Thomas Castelford's Chronicle

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THOMAS CASTELFORD'S CHRONICLE

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THOMAS CASTELFORD'S CHRONICLE

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Her was arthur, kyng of brittane,
Crovnyd emanges his lordes ilkon.

Dede es kyng vter pendragon.
Alle þe lordinges in britaine won
In to silcestre, þat gude cite,
Þai samened fra ilke divers contre;
Hald samen spech þar þai al bigan
Bifor dubrice, þat haly man,
Þe archebeschop of legions,
Maste worthe clerk of þe britons.
Þai bisoght þe Archebischop dubrice
Þat tim to do solempne office
And sacer Arthur, kyng vter son,
Of alle britaine to haf coron,
Þar kyng to be and ek soueraine,
To gouern þe hile of britaine.
Þarto, þai sade, þam stode gret nede:
Þar famen þe north occupede;
Saxons fra þai herd and wiste
Kyng vter dede it was puplist,
In to germane rathe þai sent,
And efter mar succour þai went.

Þar come wel son of germanie
A duk with ful grete cheualrie
Þar chef to be, þe duk colgrim;
ffele thousandes men he broght with him.
He aforcede him þoru werkes brem
Þe britons out of britaine flem.
Saxons wan to þam in Aqwile
fful grete partie of britaines hile.
Þai broght in þar subgection
Cites and alle þat within won
ffra vmber flodd, baȝ mar and lesse,
Right to þe ce of cathenesse.
Þe Archebischope dubrice behelde
To þe comun peple in britaine duelde,
To þar wrechenes, so grete to se;
In herte he had dule and pete.
Oþer bischopes to him he calde,
Þat comon wer þe consail to hald.
Arthur in to kyng he raisede;
In þe regne of britaine he him saisede.
He sette on his heide diademe,
Cristen folk to mainten and yieme.
Arthur was þan of fiftene yiere,
Þe noblist knawen in þis warld here,
ffair of theues, of cors, of mode,
Gifen to alkins vertues and gode.
Men herd neuer child of better vertues:
Alkins gud[ness]es in him neues;
Prowes and alkins maner bontes
Anens his elde in him men ses.

Of larges certes he hade grace
And fauour bifor ilkemannes face,
Sua þat alle ledis peple welnere
In herte h[im] lofede and had fuldere.
Qwen he was gifen coron to haf,
To alle gude theues he him gaf.
In his forme vertues he stode,
Oþer mar and mar in better he yiode.
Anens his state he vsed largisse
And freli gaf to mar and lesse.
Of knightes so grete multitude
On alle sides vnto him fluede;
Knightes to wille thourth him nan want;
Tresor for þam he had ful scant.
So litel firste he had in hend,
He failed tresor for to despende,
And ek to gif til foud and vage
To knightes þat war at his costage.
Siþen efterward he had anogh
H[im] was comande qwarto he drogh.
Qwa so hafes larges naturele
With proues, strenghful of cors to fele,
Þof him sumquil be tresor gned,
Rathlie haf mar he comes to spede.
fforsoȝ pouert continuele
Sal noght him dere largeli wil dele.
Anogh, es sene and saide in saghes,
Ofte comes vnto þat man to draghes.
Arthur, in quam larges was sene,
It with proues he wald sustene.

He vndertok and in hert keste
Þe aithen saxons to mak vnreste;
Haf parte of þar riches so large
Þoru strengh to win he wald noȝ targe.
Þam to mak riche he wald noȝ spar
Þat knightes of his mene war.
Anens his selfe fulwele kneu he
Alle britaine hale his suld be.
He kneu þoru right of his linage
Alle suld haf ben his heritage.
So folk him tald, he vnderstode
Alle þe hile was his þoru right of blode.
Thralie Arthur fra north and suth
Assemblede alle þat was in yiuth,
And alle þat wer to him subgettes
Ordainede in oste, lo, he þam settes
With dukes, erels, and princes slik
Vnto þe cite of eborwik.
Bot þar he wald noght duel þat tim:
Mare north he paste to seke colgrim.

Her come arthur and batal toke
Agane colgrym, þat mighty doke.

To colgrim þis tiþandes wer broght,
So north þe kyng arthur him soght.
To gider he gadres his saxons
And alle þat wiȝ in þe north wons.
Scotes and pecthes with him he nom,
And agains kyng arthur he com

With multitud of folk so grete
Kyng Arthur and his oste to threte.
Arthur and he þai mette þat tide
In duglasdale bi þe stremes side.
Arthur welraȝ on comes and feghtes
On þe saxons, scotes, and pecthes;
And aiþer oste durand lang qwile
ffightande was in fulgret perile;
And fulgret harmes aiþer side laght.
So lang durand baȝ ostes faght,
To þe mar half of folk þat daie
Of aiþer partie þar slane þai laie.
Welner alle wer so for fogthen,
Þat of þar lif naþing þai rogthen.
Bot at þe laste, slane manie aman,
Þe victorie kyng arthur wan.
Bot certes his oste was so ouertane,
Þat mar half of his folk was slane.
Colgrim scomfite was putte to flight;
Arthur him suede baȝ daie and night.
Arthur him suede chasand þat quile
Now este, now weste, thre vndreȝ mile,
ffra wod to wode, fra felle to felle;
Arthur him suffred nouqware to duelle.
Bot colgrim at missechef in þat
Within eborwikes cite gatte.
Yitte kyng arthur so wald noȝ blin:
He seged him eborwik within.
Eborwik þase daies stuffed was sene
With saxons and with peple paigien.

Arthur þarfor he wald noght lette,
Strenghful sautes þarto he sette.
Alle cristen folk to him he calde
Þe sege on þam baldelie to halde.
Baldulf, colgrimes broþer, he herde
How colgrim, his broþer, so ferde,
How strenghfullie scomfite he was
Besid þe watter of duglas,
And how he was so chacede and fledde,
In eborwikes cite so stedde.
With sex thousand men and ma
To þe sege ward he com fulthra,
Als sone for to de[li]uer his broþer
Ouþer on a waies oþer on oþer:
Baldulf he was be þe ce side,
Qwiles colgrim faght in þe same tide;
In þe north land du[e]lling he made;
Duk cheldrikes commyng he abade,
Þat fra germanie was comande,
Als in þar helpe suld rife to lande.
Qwen he with his sex thousand men
Was so þe space of miles ten
ffra þe cite with sege vmsette,
Ner it certes þan he ne plette.
Conseile he tok with [þam] to dele:
Bi night he wald apon þam stele,
Thefelie opon þam forto fight,
Scomfite þam so or þai wer dight.

Kyng arthur herd how þat baldulf
Wald com opon him als a wulf
Bi nighter tal so dose A thef;
It so suld be he wald þink gref;
Þar with he wald be war bifor.
He cald to him þe duk cador
Of cornewail with sex vndreȝ knightes,
Aparaild wel als to þar rightes,
And of fote men thousandes thre
Agains baldulf wend suld he,
Þe same night so with þam to mete,
Vnwarned destrube þam þe strete.
Duk cado[r] sone þis folk puruaide;
He dide so kyng arthur him saide.
Þe same waie to take he fande
In quilk his famen wer comand,
And, þai vnwarnede, with þam he mete,
Thra on alle sides on þam he sette.
Of þe saxons he wonded and slogh;
He wroght vn þam slaghter anogh.
Wele fele of þam he slogh þat nyght:
ffone aschapede and tok þe flight.
Baldulf had þan gret sorow and car
Of his folk he sagh so misse far.
In herte he had yitte sorou to dour
Þat he might noght his broþer succour.
fful gret desir he had þat tim
To spek with his broþer colgrim,
Same speche and consaile to haf
How wald be best þam baȝ to saf.

He amed ful mikel it wald þam waile
To wirk in þar bather consaile,
To his presens if he might win
Þat seged was þe cite with In.
If he might win his broþer vnto,
Baȝ suld þai compas how to do.

Her come cheldryk, duk of germane,
In to þis land with many a mane.

Baldulf he sagh nan oþer wane
His broþer to helpe, his folk was slan:
Of his heide he schofe þe hare,
His berd he schofe, he made him bare.
Iugelour he feignede him to be,
Þat mikel cuȝ of gam and gle.
And in slik gise, was his assent,
Þoru out arthures oste he went.
With harp in hand welfast he harpes;
ffele burdes and wordes for soȝ he carpes.
Passand Arthur tentes Amang
Throfeles in harpe he sang.
Arpur so forth he was degisede;
Of him it was na man auisede.
Harpand so þoru þe oste he yiode,
Naman suched to him bot gode.
Þe cite walles he droght þam ner,
To þam within als to Aper.
Signes he made and takenynges slik
Til þam wer within eborwik,

To þai enclusede had knawyng
Qwat man he was, him in to bryng.
Priue he clambe vp at þe mote,
Til he com to þe walles fote.
With rapes and cordes vp þai him drogh
Within þe walles ioiful anogh.
Vnto his broþer þai him broght,
He schewed him alle how he had wroght.
Þai kiste als treu breþer and lele,
Aiþer þar faine of oþer hele;
Aiþer in armes oþer enbraste;
Of ser wordes and conseile þai taste.
Qwen þai had spoken many skilles,
Aiþer til oþer schewed þar willes,
Þai fel in to despare and dout
Of þe cite how to win out.
Þar legates þan with gret nauie
Repairde againe fra germanie.
Þe duk cheldryk with þam com he
With sex vndreȝ schippes on þe ce
And scharged with strenȝful knightes,
Atrede and stuffed to þar rightes.
Þai rifed vp in albanie;
Of þar comyng ras gret noise and crie.
To kyng arthur fulson was talde
Comyng of cheldrik, þe duk so balde,
With schippes ma þan thrite score.
His conseilours, cald him bifore,
He hasked þam in slik A nede
Qwat was to do how beste to spede.

Þai conseile him nalangre he sald
Þe sege a bout þe cite hald.
His conseilours familiere
Þai tald him þus and ilkan sere:
If it tide so gret multitude
Of germanies folk so rude
Com on þam and sette bi night or daie,
In ful vtrage peri[l] wer þaie.
Þe gret cite on þe ta side
Þat out wald com if chance moȝ tide,
On þe toþer half cheldrik so kene
With folk withouten nu[m]ber to sene—
Cheldrik had fightand knightes so fele—
Þai kneu þai might noȝ with þam dele.
If folk of þe cite com out,
Þe victorie it war in dout.
Kyng Arthur, in perile and angre,
If he þe sege held any langre,
He kneu on him wald com cheldrik
To deliuer þe sege of eborwik.
And he behofed lefe ostes thrin
To hald þe gret cite within.
Welfon knightes þam lefte to his schelde
On duk cheldrik to win þe felde.
ffor slik periles, þe sothe to saie,
ffra þe cite he sette his waie.
He lefte þe sege so at þe laste
And to londen þider he paste.
He recetted him in þat cite
Parlement to hald how beste wald be.

Þider he cald alle þe primates,
Þe clerge, and þe potestates,
Dukes, erels of alle þe hile,
fforqwi þe land was in perile.
Qwen þai in his presens aperde,
Þar aller conseile he enquerde
Þe regne to sauf how it wer beste,
Sen it was stedde in slik vnreste
Þoru þe saxons aiethen paigiens,
Þat wer in þe hile so sustens.
Þai þoru lang tides wald neuer ces,
Bot euer in malice wald þai encres.
Lo, þoru þar aller comun assent
Honurable messangers went
To kyng hoel of amorik
Þar nedes to scheu, lo, slik and slik,
To scheu him alle þe chaitifete
Þas daies in britaines hile to se,
Help and succour of him to craf,
Þe kyng arthur and þam to saf.

In help of arthur hool come þan
With fyveten thousand good men.

Hoel was arthures sister son;
On her h[im] gat þe kyng buton.
Buton he was kyng and soueraine,
Regnand in Amorikes britaine.
And qwen hoel þis tiþandes hers,
Tald him þoru worthie messengers,
How þe saxons wald neuer ces
In his heme landes to mak vnpes

And how þai wer so egre and breme
Slik wranges to do vnto his heme,
He bad sone paraile his nauie
And sam gader his cheualrie.
Redie he had out of his landes
Of armed men fifeten thousandes.
With þam to his nauie he yiode
Towardes britaine on cees flode.
Vnto his willes bleu þe windes;
Þe hafen of hampton sone he findes.
He arifed vp at hamptones port
Of his heme in helpe and conforte.
Lo, him resaiued þe kyng Arthur,
So worthie was, with gret honour.
Lighli and ek in lof suthfast
Aiþer þar oþer in armes enbraste.
Wordes bituen þam fair and softe,
Thankes and graces þai yiald ful ofte.
Qwen it was past daies bot fone,
Þai soght to kaierludicone.
Paigiens wer þar with ful gret ruth;
Þe cite þai seged alle abouth.
ffer on alle sides waste þai made,
Alle þe contres destroied þai had.
Þe cite paigiens about laie
So in contres of lindesaie.
And hegh on amontaine it standes;
Men may it se fra welfer landes.
Lagh within rinnes a water flode;
It dose þar to gret ese and gode.

A noþer name now to þe cite falles:
Þis daie lincolne folk it calles.
Kyng arthur and hoele alsua
Strenghtfulli þider com þai tua.
Gret multitud of folk þai broght,
And on þe duk cheldrik þai soght.
Duk cheldrik had of folk plente;
Sum sette he hald in þe cite,
Maste parte with him with þar chefetains
Kyng arthures ost to stand agains.
Arthur and he sone same þai mette,
And in bataile to gider þai sette.
Þai slogh and gaf fele wondes sar;
So hard fight sagh þai neuer ar.
Of þe pagiens, þe soth to spelle,
Sex thousande men in feld son felle:
Sum þoru smiten with arues and spers,
With alkins vapen armed men bers,
Sum rused agains in þar awn turne
And drunkend so in þe watres burn,
Sum fele doun slain nou her, nou þar;
Þase oþer sagh awondred þai war;
Anens þam self fulsar adrede
Þai lefte þe sege, awai þai flede.
Langre abid þai sagh na boute,
Sum rad, sum tok þam to þar fote.
Arthur þam folghes with willes gret,
He slas al þas he may ouer gete.
Thrali he suede þam opon
Vnto þe woddes of colidon.

Þe scomfite saxons þar abides,
Þai flued þider fra alle sides.
Þai thoght defens for þam þai fande
Þe kyng arthur to again stande.
Þar stod þai to defens ilkane;
Enter within þam þai suffred nane,
Againe arthur þai tok consaile
And held him out with egre bataile.
In þar defens manlie anogh
Many of þe britons þai slogh.
Þai targed þam þe gret akes;
Cum out in plaine ilke þar forsakes.
So mikel of þe harmes þai eschuede
Þat þe britons opon þam neuede.
Þai mad defens þe wodde within;
Þe britons might noght to þam win.
Kyng arthur þis bihaldes and ses;
He comand son hew doun þase tres.
Bi þas parties of þe wodde endeling
Ilke tre on oþer þai stod so thrang.
Ouer ilke ake suld he oþer crop
Þar issu out til þam to stop,
Ilke ake on oþer so alle a bout,
Þat nane of þam suld might cum out.
Enclusede with in sege þam he wald,
Til þai for vnger die within sald.
So lang on þam duel he stablist
To þai for vnger wer alle periste.

Alle about he sette his ostes
To hald þam in in alle costes.
Kyng arthur þus on þam dueld he,
To passed wer daies thre.

Cheldryke on ce for thoght his aygh,
On lande he come and dide gret skagh.

Qwen þe saxons þe fode þus tharned,
Issu to þam on alle sides warned,
Durand thre daies, baȝ aeld and yiongre,
Welner certes þai periste for vngre.
Ne naþing þai might win ne gete
Of erdelik fode þat þai might ete.
Issu þai asked of þe kyng arthur,
To lefe with him alle maner of tresur,
Gold and siluer and alkins win
Þat þai had won britaine within,
In comandme[n]t alle til him to gif,
Qwar þoru he salle suffer þam lif,
Anelie to passe with þar nauie
Againe hame in to germanie.
Þar bune to haf, þai said and suar,
In britaine suld þai cum na mar.
And ek þai hight for þar passage
ffra germanie gif him truage,
Ostages to duel vnto his wille,
Þar bode in alle þinges to fulfille.
Þan þoru conseil arthur þe kyng
He granted to þam alle þar haskyng;

And he withheld alle þar riches
In britaine funden, baȝ mar and lesse.
Ostages alsua with him he held
ffor þe truage þai suld him yield.
Anogh he gaf þam passage fre
With þar nauie opon þe ce.
Qwen duk cheldryk was passand hame
With his nauie on salt cees fame,
Welraȝ bigan he to misselik
Þat he had mad coue[n]andes slik.
Þai wald noȝ hald þat þai had suorn
And hight þe kyng arthur biforn.
To hald treuȝ alelie alle þai scurned.
Þar vailes on ce againe þai turned.
With eger wille þa[i] come againe
To win þe contres of britaine.
Þai rife vp at þe hafen totenaise,
Alle neu contek and wer to raise.
Qwen þai had getten þe hard lande,
Þai destroid þat þai bifor fande.
Þai wasted alelie þe contres,
To þai com to sabrines ces.
In þase contres durand þas stundes
Tilȝmen þai slogh and gaf dedde woundes.
Þai straied how fer fra side to side
And brinned alle þat was edifide.
Doand slik grete harmes and skath
Þai paste to þe cite of bath.
With strait sege þar on þai duelde;
Þe cite britons againe þam helde.

To arthur kyng com þis tiþandes
How duk cheldrik was in his landes
And how he suth contres brinnes
And so destroie his land biginnes.
fful gret wondre kyng arthur þoght
Þat þe saxons slik waies wroght:
Þe coue[n]antes brek þat stablist was,
Agains treuȝ do slik trespas.
ffor þar vntreuȝ and þar vtrages
He bad sette dome of þar ostages.
Of þar iuesse was na duelling:
Of galwes þai wer dampned to hing.
Arthur þe north contres þan
On scotes and pecthes rise he began.
Vnquiete þam he wald noght ces
Þat wald noght stand vnto his pes.
Na duelling in þe north he made,
On scotes and pecthes nalangre he rade,
Bot hied him with gret desir
Suthward to someresetes schir.
He lefte saxons and againe turned,
Bot gretlie in his hert murnede
ffor his cosin þe kyng hoel,
Þat nedelinges most þar after him duel.
Hoel was in slik sekenes stedde,
He might noght cum out of his bedde.
Arthur for him had sorou and car:
He lefte him in sekenes so sar
Within þe cite of alclud
And parte him self in to þe sud.

Withsamed to him an oste fulgrete,
He entred þe schire of someresete.
Qwen he com so ner bathes cite,
Þat alle þe sege he might ouer se,
Of þe saxons, þat his treuȝ brak,
Þat alle might her, þis wordes he spak:
“Lo, þe saxons, so fals of fame,
Of falsed and of weked name!
fful weked and fals þai mai be cald;
Treuȝ to me þam dedeignes to hald.
In þe faiȝ I haf my godde to queme,
Anens þar treuȝ I salle þam deme.
I anenter strengh salle me afors
Þis daie to venge me on þar cors.
I salle me venge þis ilke daie
Manli in feld, if þat I maie,
Of blodde schedde of my citisains,
Sen falsli þai rise me agains.
Armes yow men, armes yow now,
Lo, þe tratours er befor yow.
To fight on þam makes yow boune,
Haf na dout to ber þam doune.
Als tratoures treuȝ haf þai broken
And wikedlie opon vs wroken.
Þoru þe help of þe vertu
Of criste of heuen, of lorde iesum,
Þe maistrie of þam sal we win.
Dotes yow noght on þam to rin.”

Her brittons and saxons to gedir yode,
Gret scheddyng þar was of mannes blod.

Qwen arthur had þus said and doune,
Vp ras þan saint du[b]rice fulsone,
Þe archebischope of legions,
In presens of alle þe britons.
He clame vpon a litel montaine
Þat for him was so eise and gaine.
With hegh voice on þis maner
He cried, þat alle þe folk might her:
“Yie cristen men in britaine won
Þat haldes cristen profession!
Hafes in yow now reuȝ and pete
Of our neghburs and þe contre,
Þat þoru treson of þe paigiens,
Þat yitte Agains yow sustiens,
Welner yitte þoru your herd [er] drifen,
In endelise sorow for to lifen,
Bot yie fight with wapen in hende
Your awn contre for to defende.
ffor your contre with wille yie fight
On your famen; dies for your right.
Die for your right es victorie;
To your saul it es remedie.
Qwa so hafes in wille and rede
ffor his broþer to suffer þe dede,
He offers himself withouten ende,

Qwilk sacrifice til godde to wend
Criste he folghes in his traces;
Þat man in þis warld has þe graces
ffor rightwisenes stand in strif
And for his broþer to gif his lif.
If any of yow, qwat so he be,
In bataile die with willes fre,
Þat ilke dedde he þis daie in rinnes
Standes in penance of alle his sinnes;
I grant him absolucion
Bifor iesum criste goddesson,
Of alle þat he has done biforn
Sen he was of his moder born,
Qwar þoru he noght refuys þis daie
Die for his broþer, so I yow saie.”
Of þis, in ded, was na targing.
Þai tok þe haly manes blissing
And armed þam son with willes gode,
And vnto his biddyngs þai stode.
Kyng arthur tok on ane auberk,
So lik a kyng of worthi werk,
And on his heid a helm of gold
In dragons forme slik vse he walde,
And on his schuldres a scheld ful bright,
Þat name was perdwen it heght.
Þe ymage þat in it was paint
Of marie goddes moder so saint.

ffor haf her in memor he wald
Sen in alle nedes to her he calde.
He tok his suerd hight calborn,
Girde him þarwith he wald noȝ scorn,
Wroght in þe hile of auelon;
And his sper, þat was cald ron,
In his right hande, lo, he it takes;
Wide wondes and brad in fight it makes.
Arthur he ordaind his oste,
In batailes he and þam asoste.
fful hardelie he tok þe strete,
With þe saxons in feld to mete.
To gider strak, lo, þar batailes,
Aiþer on oþer harde dinttes deles.
Þe britons harde opon þam yiode,
And manli þai agains þam stode.
Þai laide on faste, gaf many a dinte;
Noþer oste for oþer wald stint.
Ilke man oþer to sla was boune,
Na man might knaw qweþer side yied doun.
Neuer þai ces bot euer þai fight
Alle þe lang daie, til it was night.
Aiþer on oþer þar wapen brak,
Noþer side forsoȝ gaf bak,
Bot alle þe daie aiþer oþer sloght.
And qwen þe son to reste it droght,
To a montane neghum þai yiede.
Þe saxons sone it occupede,

Þai tok it þan for þar castelle,
Þe night þaron to hofe and duelle.
Of saxons þan þe number so grete
ffra þai þis ilke montane might grete,
Þai þoght anogh suffis it wald
Þam alle þaron þe night to halde.
Alle about þam þai ordained wache
Harmes bi night fra þam cache.
And þe britons þe vale þai tok.
ffor þar resete sum of þam wok.

Colgryn was sclane her with his breþer,
Saxons was chast now her, now þeder.

Þe night it paste son on þe morn;
Þe son it ras fair þam biforn.
Arthur biheld vnto his face;
Lo, he auised him of þe place.
Þe monte he bigan to ascende,
Þe saxons þam for to defende.
Þoru fors he wald and noȝ þoru sleght
Of þe montain win to þe heght.
Bot in vp clauering of his oste
fful many of his men he loste.
Saxons doune fra on hegh þai ran,
Þai wondede and sloght ful many aman,
Sen better þai had donward fra hegh
Þa[n] britons vp climbande might dregh.
Bot þe britons with fors ful grete
To þe heght of þe hille aboun þai gete.

Þar reght schuldres þai sette to thring,
To þar famen schuldres þai bring.
Saxsons þar bristes agains þam sette,
Win þe hille on þam forto do lette.
Schuldre to schulder, briste to briste,
In slik brussing fele many periste.
Britons vpward þoru fors þai wald,
Saxons donward, þam for to halde.
Vpwarde, donwarde þus þai thrang,
Aiþer folk on oþer durand ful lang.
In þis maner alle daie þai faght,
And yitte þe hille to win in waght.
Qwen mikel of þe daie was paste,
Dedeing þught arthur at þe laste
Þat þai þam sulde þe feld so warn
And þe maistre in point to tharn.
His suerde in hand out he drogh,
Hight caliburn Aknawen anogh.
Þe nam of saint marie he criede,
And to þe thikeste prese he hiede.
Lo, qwar his enemise thikest preste,
To entre þar neuer he ceste.
He criede to god with willes gude
And smate on alle befor him stude.
Of his enemise he spared nane;
Alle þase he toched þai fel doun slan.
To sla his famen neuer he stint,
Ilke man he toched dede of þe dint.

With caliburn stik neuer he lefte,
To he of fele þe lifes had refte.
Bi numbre he slogh þat tid of men
ffour vndreȝ and sextie and ten.
Britons sagh arthur on þam gatte,
In thik batailes þai folgh in þatte.
Þai sued þar king with ful gret ruth,
Þai slogh and feld doun all abouth.
Colgrim slane and baldulf, his broþer,
And many thousandes of þe oþer;
Duk cheldrik sagh þe gret perille:
His side yiod doun, he stod ful ille.
With þe oste þat lefte he tok þe flight,
Naui to gette if þat he might.
Kyng arthur certes wan þe bataile;
He bad cador, þe duk of cornewaile,
On þase enemise þe sute to mak
And sla alle þase he might ouer tak.
ffor him behoued so hastelie
Passe northward in to albanie,
Sen neulings to arthur was talde
Scotes and pecthes with willes balde
About alclud cite þai duel
And seges þar in þe kyng hoel,
Þat greued lai so sek and sare.
Arthur him hiede to he com þare,
Þat he nane harmes tak wer sene
Of þat ilke folk barbariene.

Duk of cornewaile in þe suth landes,
Of men with him, yia, ten thousandes,
On þe saxons fleand, rebouth
To þar flight, wald he mak na suth.
Bot bifor þam faste hied he
To þar naui opon þe ce.
To destrube þam he was bousum:
Til þar naui þai suld noȝ cum.
He werniste þam with knightes gude
To warn þam þe naui on flude.
Þe paigiens þam to naui hiede,
Þar naui son was þam deniede.
He hied him, qwen þis was done,
His enemise to enchace welson.
Withouten reuȝ, withouten pitte
He slogh al þase fonden might be.
Alto ful fille was his entent
Þat was arthures comandement.
Paigiens, þat so felons had bene
On þe britons, with willes kene,
With dredefull hert þat tide þai fledde
ffra toune to toune, fra sted to stedde,
ffra wodde to wodde, sumtide in plaines,
Sum qwile in creuesses of montaines,
Bi night, bi daie, fra place to place,
Als of þar lif for to haf space,
So in defens þar lifes to saf,
Also lang so þai might it haf.

Þai entred in to tanettes hille,
Þar lifes to safe þar in sumquille.
Þe duk of cornewaile in tanette
He suffrede þam þar haf na recette.
He folghede þam þider in willes grete;
He slogh all þase he might ouergete.
He cessed neuer of slaghter slik,
To he had slane þe duk cheldrik.
Alle þe oþer he tok in gude and ille
To stand vnto þe kynges wille.
And þaropon he tok ostages,
In þe kynges wille to gif truages.

A stang þar was within þat land,
Þat sexti yles was contenand.

Stabliste was pes, lo, in þe suth;
Þe duk he paste vnto alcluth,
Þe qwilk arthur, or he come þider,
Had deliuerd alle to gider
Of barbariene oppression,
Þat þar about gret harmes had don.
He ledde his oste siþen þoru feif,
And sua he come in to mureif,
Qwar scotes and pecthes segede war,
Within ane hald recettede þar.
Lo, þai haf foghten in plaines thrin
Agains kyng hoel, his cosin,
And siþen into þat ilke contre
ffledde þai war, recettede to be.

Þe stagne of loume þai entred þat qwiles
And occupede forsoȝ þase hiles,
Þat within war, recette to haf,
And siker griȝ þam seluen to saf.
Þat ilke stagne es large and brade;
Thre score hiles þar in es made,
Sextie hiles contend þarin,
And sextie flodes þarto þai rin
ffra þe contres er on alle sides;
It þam resaiuede forsoth alle tides.
And of þat stagne, knawen to be,
Bot A curse rinnes in to þe ce.
And in þase hiles of tald bifor,
Þat resaiues þe flodes thre scor,
Er many and fele ful rugh rochi[n]es;
Bot foghles fleande vnto þam winnes,
Qwar aernes fele comes and restes
And in þar rochis makes þar nestes.
Þar ilke arnes yier bi yier
Þider þai gader fra contres ser.
And if any wonder be to cum
In þase landes to þe kyngdum,
Anogh þai will it clarifie
With hegh yielling and griseli crie.
Sua þe comun noise of aernes
Of wondres comand þe contre warnes.
Þe enemise fledde fra kyng arthur
Til þase hiles to haf succour,

Help of maraie haf in þase places;
Bot aschort qwile it þam solaces:
Lo, arthur after nauie soght
And in to þase flodes þam broght.
He seged þam so alle about;
Bi fefeten daies might nan cum out.
With honger he dide þam so wa,
A thousande died of þam and ma.
Qwiles arthur suo þam enfamiste
So þat þai alle welner periste,
Gillamur, kyng of hirlande,
Of aithen folk ful many A thousande
With plentiuous nauie on þe cite
Þase daies to lande Arifede he.
Lo, he on come with willes thra
To helpe þase men wer segede sua.
Kyng arthur he lefte his sege þan,
And turne his harmes sone he bigan
Þe hibermenes folk againe.
He draf þam sone out of britaine
Withouten pite; he spared þam noght:
fful mikel sorow on þam he wroght.
Many thousand men þai loste,
Hamward repare nedelings þai moste.
Qwen he had þus victorie wonnen,
He turned to þat he had bigonnen:
Scotes and pecthes sla albedene,
Of þar linage britaine mak clene.

He bade þai sulde nan of þam spar,
Alle do to dede, bath lesse and mar,
Man and woman, bath ille and gude,
Do wai for euer, yia, alle þar blude.
Qwen arthur þus had suorn spar nan,
Alde and yiong alle suld be slane,
Alle þe bischopes assembled ful yiar
Þat in þase waful contres war,
Alle þe clergie and religions
In halikirk þar ofes and wones;
Bokes of saintes þai tok and bar,
Alle þinges in kirk þat halowed war,
Barfote, reueste, al þis þai bring;
Þai falle on knes bifor þe kyng.
Relikes þai scheu to him and croices,
Mercy þai hask with doleful uoices,
Mercy þai crie with herte and wille:
Þe peples blode he suld noȝ spille.
In his presens þai sitte on knes,
So þat he þam bihaldes and ses.
Þai praide him of reuȝ and pite
Haf of þat waful folk to se—
Anogh þai wer to mischef drifen—
Þase so fone lefte to suffer þam lifen.
Him thurt noght do þam alle awaie,
Þase þat lefte—bot fone wer þaie—
Suffer þam alitel porcion
Of þe contre, þar in to won,

Thraldum for euer mar to bere
To þase þat now on lifes ere.
Qwen þai had þus with sorowful cher
Bisoght þe kyng on þis maner,
Grete pite mofes þe kyng and deres
Of þe wepings and þe teres
Of þase halimen so saint and gude;
Pite vnto his hert it stude;
He granted þar hasking and þar bone
And ceste of harmes he wald haf don.

Her telles arthur of þe thewes,
Þat off þar stangnis commys and schewes.

Qwen þus was done and þai had grace,
Kyng hoel he biheld þe place.
To þe si[t]e of þe stagne he lokes,
Þat resaiued so fele grete brokes:
So fele flodes þarto aproches,
So many hiles, so many roches,
So many aernes nestes to se
Withouten number semed to be.
Awondred he was of þe marais;
Kyng arthur comes and him sais:
Anoþer stagne forsoȝ kneu he,
Noght fer fra in þe same contre,
Bot twontie fote of brede to ame;
Mesur of lengh it hafes þe same;

ffife fote of hegh es þat mare,
Withouten manes crafte four squar;
So many a man proues and lokes,
ffour kindes of fische in þe four nokes.
In na partie salle men now finde
ffische of anoþer parties kinde.
In euerilke noke to tak men spedes
Þe kind of fische þat þar in bredes.
And naman mai in a cornere
Tak þe fische of a noþer so nere.
Yitte arthur tald him in his tales
Anoþer stagne in þe contre of wales
fful ner sauern, þe soȝ to sai;
Þe ce ouerflues it euerilke dai.
Þe contre folk amanges þam alle
Linliwam certes þai it calle.
Alle þe water þar doun it sinkes,
Þat ouer it flues, it swelghtes and drinkes.
Durand þe flodde alle it resaiues,
So þat passande na water ouerwaiues.
So alle þe water flues þar vntille
Mai it neuer to þe bankes fille.
Ne alle þe water ouerflues and rinnes
Mai neuer ouercouer þe margines.
Qwen it es eb, þe ce wodraghes,
So it þoru kynde vales and laghes,
Þan þe stagne it rises and spoutes,
And strinkels waters alle a boutes.

Abouen þe bankes rise it wille
And be on heght, so wer an hille.
Þe water bifor þat swelgh and sank
It comes and rises abouen þe bank.
Vpwarde it rises and ek wille caste
Alle ouer þe margin at þe laste.
Þan if þe folk of alle þe lande
War þar neghum for to stande,
If þai stand and þar faces turne,
So qua towardes þe stagne burn,
If þai resaife of þat burn þare
Strinkelande opon þam naked and bar,
Within þar wede, vnder þar claþes,
Þai aschape noght withouten staþes,
Vnnese forsoȝ oþer neuer mare
Out of þe place win, þeþen to fare.
Bot þe stagne sone þam draghes to drunken,
Within it to be swelgien and sunken.
If þar face be noght turnede þarto,
Þe stagne mai þam nane harmes do.
Of it thar þam haf nakins dout,
Þof it den on þam alle A bout.
Yia, þof þai stande opon þe brede,
It salle þam noiþer der ne werde.

Þe kyrkes qwylk he distroyd knewe
He reedified þam and maid newe.

To scotisse peple was granted pes
And alkins distance for to ces.
To eborwik kyng arthur wald
Solempne cristemesse þar in to halde.
ffor ner drogh iesum cristes birth,
Þe daie arthur with ioie and mirth
He held ful grete solempnite
With alle þe prince of þe contre.
Kyng arthur within þe daies of yiol
In his herte had gret sorow and dol
Of temples and kirkes casten to grunde
Þoru pagien folk bifor þat stunde.
Saint sampson putte awai was sen,
Þat archebischope bifor had ben.
He remeued him to lesse britaine,
Na mar he was sene com againe.
Oþer saintes of religion
ffele wer awai þarin suld won.
Of goddes seruice cessede had þai,
Temples alfebrinde, abbais awai:
Pagiens destroiede alle þinges to neuen
Pertende to goddes seruice of heuen.
Kyng arthur, againe to restore
Þe temples þat war destroide bifore,
Þan bifor him son gert he calle
Þe clergie and þe pople alle.

He dide sacre in worschip of criste
In archebischope piram, his priste,
Primate and metropolitane
Ouer þe north bischopes euer ilke ane;
Þe kirkes quilk he destroide kneu
Reedifide and mad þam neu;
And ek religious abbaise
A gaine to state he dide þam raise.
He raisede þarin religions,
Monkes and nonnes and oþer parsons.
Princes þat wer in vnquiete,
Þoru þe saxons putte vnder fete,
He gaf þam þe contre honours,
Alle þat had bene þar predecessours.
Thre breþer þar was of kinges linage
Þat casten wer out of heritage:
Loth, vriane, and augusele.
Of þe north þai salle haf mikell dele
Bi for þe comen of þe saxons,
Þat destroied þe north barons.
Þe principa[t]e suld haf bene þairs;
It fel to þam and to þar airs.
Kyng arthur wald þam thre restore
In þe right suld ben þares bifore.
To augustele for soth he gaf
Þe kyngdum of þe scotes to haf;
Vriane, his broþer, kyng to be
Of mutesienes dignite;

Loth to auance was his purpose,
Þat in tim of aureile ambrose
Had wedede to wife his sister Anna
And geten on her þis childer tua,
Walwan and his broþer modrede.
In to forme state he wald him lede.
He made him duk of lodonesie,
With oþer contres til him to sesie.
He gaf him alle to him pertende,
To him and his withouten ende.
Qwen alle britaines contres wer paisede
And ilke man in his right resai[s]ede,
Alle þe land so paisede to se,
In forme state and forme dignite,
Kyng arthur ches him wife to finde,
A maiden comen of romes kinde.
Her name for soth was gainnore,
Nuriste in þe dukes chamber cadore.
Of alle þe maidens vnder þe aire
Within britaine was nane so faire.
Wedde her in eborwik was his wille;
And suo to somer he du[e]ld þar stille.
Qwen somer come þat next ensuede,
Kyng arthur alle his nauie 'he neued,
Alle his schippes he apparailde,
Suo of vitales him naþing failde.
He sette him on þe hirisse ce,
And in hirland arifede he,

ffor he had in affection
Bring it in his subiection.
Kyng gillamur with folk anogh
Withouten number agains him drogh.
So arthur rifede vp in his costes;
To geder mette welraȝ þar ostes.
Þe hirisse folk was nakede and bare,
Vnarmede in feld, wondede fulsare,
Þai fledde sone so þai same mette
Qwar þ[ai] might finde grith or recette.
And taken was þe kyng gillamur,
Subgette to be to þe kyng arthur.
And alle princes of þe contres,
Þat ensample of þar kyng ses,
To þe kyng arthur þai þam yialde,
Þe hile of him for euer to halde.
Qwen alle hirland was yielden to him,
He sette his nauie forth þat tim.
Þe portes of hi[s]land sone he laght,
In sere batailes on þam he faght.
He wan and alle þe land þoru soght,
In his subgection he it broght;
So of him pupliste þe tiþande
Þat naman might agains him stande,
Kyng of godeland, doldau doghtie,
And gunwas, kyng of orchadie,
With þar gude wille þai heght [and] suare

Truage to yield for euer mare.
So after winter he comes againe
In to his kyngrik of britaine.
State of his regne in pes he helde,
And twelf yiere so in pes he duelde.

Her gret fame off arthur sprang
Ouer alle þis warld both bred and lang.

Arthur had won many landes,
ffele of þe hiles about him standes:
Scotes and pecthes and þe saxons
And all þat within britaine wons.
Hirlande and hislande alle sua
Won he had þase landes tua.
Þe kyng doldau and kyng gunwase
Comen to his wille was baȝ þase.
And in tim qwen þe winter was paste
Britaine he entrede at þe laste.
Þan in britaine he dueld him self
In stabliste pes þe yeres tuelf.
ffra fer kyngrikes durand þas yiers
He cald to him beste bachelers.
Meigne of his curt he encreste,
Curtaisie lerede baȝ mar and leste.
Alle in his house ful worschipelie
Wer suo enformed of curteisie,
Þat þe worde and also þe lede
In to fulfer kyngrikes it yiede.
In to alle lande þe word it sprang
Of Arthures curt pople amang,
Suo þat welner baȝ pouer and riche
Alle þis warlde þoru him had in speche.

Þase daies it was na noble man
In oþer fer kyngrikes þan
Þat worthi held him to be louede,
Bot in his curt he had ben proued,
Wer in wede claþing to were
Oþer armes in felde semelie to ber,
Bot if he cuth anens his mightes
Ber him in lede of arthures knightes.
Kyngs and dukes in fer thedes wons
To arthures house þai send þar sons,
His dedes, his wordes to se and here,
Þe thewes of his house for to lere.
ffor soth, of his largesse þe fame,
Of thewes and of pruesse þe name
ffulfer was herd durande þas tides
Of þis midelerde to þe ferrest sides.
ffele of þe kynges of þis midelerde
Him þai adredde, ful mikel aferde
Þat he ne suld þam vnquiete,
Þar nacion bring vnderfete
And der þe folk vnder þam won,
Bring þam in his subgection,
Þam lose and tine for to be sene
Þat þar aeldres and þairs had bene.
ffor wordes þai herd of arthures dedes
Wel fele of þam so forth him dredes:
ffor drede of him in þar hertes feste
Þar cites neve þai adreste.
Castells and haldes þai made neve,
Adrest qwar þai defautes kneve,

Þat, if chance tid kyng arthur coms
Bale to bigin in þar kyngdoms,
Recette to haf, if þai stand ned,
Þar lifes to safe of griȝ to spede.
Qwen arthur herde þis tald to him
Þat alle kynges him dredde þat tim,
He said he had in wille and hope
Til him to purchace alle europe.
Sone he dight nauie fulgret
Þe landes europe for to threte.
Bot firste he paste for to bigin
Þe kyngrik of norwaie to win,
Til loth to gif þat diademe,
Þe regne of norwaie for to yieme,
To loth, þat wedde his sistir biforn,
Qwam his tua cosins wer born.
And loth, forsoȝ, he was cosin
To þe kyng of norwai, sicheline;
Kyng sicheline diede þase daies;
Loth he assignede in kyng to raise.
To loth his kyngdum he destinde
Als nexte of his blode for to finde.
Bot princes and dukes of norwaie
Þerto resaife him wald noȝ þaie.
Anoþer, riculf, in kyng þai raisede,
And in kynges pouste þai him saisede.

A gaines arthur, if he wald cum,
Alle þe cites of þar kyngdum
Þai warniste, him to againe stande;
Þai þoght for to gif logh na lande.
Þan was walwan a bacheler,
Lothes sone, aelde of tuelf yier,
Bitaght to þe primate sulpice
Þoru his heme to duel in seruice;
And of arthur, his heme, walwan
Alitel bifor þe armes had tan.
Arthur þas daies applie was sene
In ane of þe hafenes norwegiene.
Þe kyng riculf comes him againe
In bataile to kepe him in plaine
With alle þe pople of þe contre.
In bataile smate baȝ he and he.
Qwen mikel manes blode was sene
Þat daie schedde in feld þam bituene,
Baȝ one þe taside and on þe toþer,
ffor euerilke man ful yiern sloȝ oþer—
Þai faght ful lang, slan many a man,
Bot þe britans þe mastrie wan.
Þe kyng riculf forsoȝ þai slogh
And on þas oþer wroght sorow anogh.
Þe britons wan þe victorie,
And forth þai paste ful feloneselie.
fflaume þai sette in þe cites
And destroiede alle þe contres.
Þe contre folk alle tok to flight,
To saf þar lifes fledde out of sight.

Þe britons suo þoru norwai þai soght;
Þe lande to arthures wille þai broght.
Siþen danmark þai þoru went;
Alle þe contres þarin þai schent.
Ofte þai faght in feld with dakes,
Bot arthur fas þe felde forsakes.
Contres, cites þe britons brinde
And destroiede alle þat þai might finde.
Þai faght with alle þai bifor fande,
And euer þai wan and had ouerhande.
Þai cessed neuer of þar ire,
Bot euer þai slogh and sette on fire
And harmes wroght baȝ night and daie,
Til alle danmark and ek norwaie
Wer in arthur subgection,
In his wille forto life and won.

Her arthur wered opon þe galles,
Þat now alle men france it calles.

Kyng arthur, qwen alle þis was done,
Loth he raisede in kyng welsone.
He auancede him, þe soth to saie,
And made him kyng of alle norwaie.
To his nauie went arthur kyng;
To france he made þan his passing.
Lo, in batailes his folk he sette;
Þe landes of france to win he thrette.
Þe contres he began to waste;
Cites he brinde, men he enchaste.

Þas daies gallicanes contres
Pertende to romes dignites.
ffollon, þe tribunere, it aght,
fforsoȝ to him þan was bitaght
Of france contres haf þe honour
To hald on leon, þe emperour.
Alle france so he gouernd and yiemede,
Þe laughes þarin he sette and demede.
And qwen he kneu arthur comande
And þe landes of france entrande,
He gadrede vnto his awn cors
Of þe regne france alle þe fors
And alle for soȝ þe armed knightes.
He kepes arthur and with him fight[es].
Bot welner na power he fande
Agains arthur in feld to stande.
ffor arthur þe iouthhed had he
Of alle þe hiles in þe weste ce,
Þase he had to his signorie broght.
And of soldeyours to him soght
So many knightes he had in oste,
Slik cheualrie to him a soste,
Þat wele it semede to ilkeman sight
Vencuse him suld naman in fight.
To him a soste þe better partie
Of gallienes cheualrie,
Qw[a]m he had draghen for his to be
Þoru his largesse and willes fre.

ffolon sagh his partie sone faile,
Him stode þe wer of þe bataile,
His folk slane in fight doune fel,
In felde he durste na langre duel.
He lefte þe feld with folk welson;
To paris cite he fledde felson.
His sparpliste folk þar resost he,
Warniste with þam paris cite,
And efte he þoght he might spede
In felde with arthur to haf dede.
In wille he was made to him cum
Þe contres about him neghum.
Bot, lo, arthur with his gret route
Opon him commes with folk fulstoute.
He seges him þe cite within,
Sodaineli opon him to win.
He spredde þe cite allobout,
Þat naman might cum in ne out.
Parisse within his oste he loukes;
He segede it suo durand four woukes.

Man for man batayll was tane
Be twyx arthur and follone.

Paste it was after a moneth
Þat ilkeman with himself keste leth.
ffolon had dole, fulwele he wiste
His folk for hunger wer ner periste.
Nede drafe him to þis auisement,
To arthur kyng þis worde he sent:
Anelie to gider fight suld þai tua.

Qweþer þar might ouer cum and sla
Baȝ þar kyngdums suld he haf;
His folk and his suld veuche it saf.
So þai suld na mar blude spille
Bot aman þoru þar aller wille.
ffollon was knight of large statour,
Hardie in fight and lang to dour,
Of strengh and of grete hardinesse,
Naman of strengh til him to gesse,
Man strenghful, man in warlde to sene.
Þerfor þe landes galliene
Of þe emperour was him bikende,
Þam gouern and to defende.
A knight he was ful mikel of cors,
He mikel hafed him in his fors.
So for he in his herte kneve
Þat na man him suld vencve.
If his haskins might granted be,
He and his folk so saifede sulde be.
Þis worde come to arthur þe kyng;
He liked wele follons hasking.
His self þarto redie sendes
Conandes to hald held vp þar hendes:
To queþer so þe victorie comes
ffor euer suld haf baȝ þar kyngdoms.
Baȝ redie dight als in a qwille
Þai mette to gider þar in an hile,
Þat es without paris cite,
Alle ledisse pople on þam to se
Qwat suld worth of þase tua knightes.

Baȝ armede [wer] wele to þar rightes,
And baȝ þai wer, þe soȝ to spelle,
On gud orses suifte and snelle.
It was naman þat tim so wise
Wiste qweþer of þam suld win þe prise.
Bot þat daie to stande to þar chance
Aiþer to oþer had dreste þar lance.
Lo, follons orse and ek arthures
ffulsmert wer smiten with þe spures.
Aiþer lance to oþer was sette,
With gret dintes same þai mette.
Arthur mar quaint he bar his sper
ffollon to spie him for to der.
Alle þe briste a bouen he sett his dint,
Bot þe scheld it made to stint.
In alle þe strengh he had þat stounde
He bar follon vnto þe grounde.
Arthur his suerde he droȝ out tite
ffollon doune fallen for to smite.
Bot follon vp in þat he ras,
Againes arthur he tok a pas;
His orse in at þe briste he bare,
With his lance wondede to dede sar.
So kyng arthur and ek his stede
fful braþelie baȝ to ground þai yiede.
ffollon on fote so on þam soght,
Baȝ to þe ground he had þam broght.
Þe b[r]itons þai sagh and bihelde
Þar kyng how he to clai was felde.

In dredde þai wer welner ilkane;
Þai wend þai wer dede and slane.
Vnnese þai might þan with halde,
Brek alle maner of conand þai wald,
Opon þe galliens to rin
Þar lordes dede wrek to bigin.
Bot quiles to brek þe bondes of pes
Rightwisenes þam targed to ces,
Arthur swith him vp adreste
And his scheld bifor him he keste.
To follon with smerte curs he soght.
Aiþer on oþer gret wa þai wroght,
Aiþer on oþer dubled þar strakes,
And aiþer of oþer gret dintes takes.
Arthur sumquil opon follon,
And he againe welfaste laide on.
Aiþer oþer to sla wel fast þai smate.
ffollon þoru chance in slik debate
Arthur he smate to chance his fronte.
Bot þe swerd slent, made sumdel blonte,
ffor þe helme keped þe dint sumdele,
Bot noght halilie, so semed wele;
Dede wonde it was, ilke man to sene,
If þat þe helme in helpe [n]ade bene.
Wonded he was þus in þe face,
Ouer his armur þe blod tok race.

Kyng arthur sone was war of þan
Þe blode fra his fronte doun ran
Ouer rin his helme and his auberk.
Sone naþing him liked þat werk;
To wrek him [he] had gret desir,
ffollon to smite in br[a]ȝ and ire,
Þe same againe him for to turne;
He þoght on his swerd coliburn,
Þat was noble grunden so scharpe.
It ouer his heide ful hegh he warpe
Adint on follon for to onquelme:
It sank þoru bacin and þoru helme.
He smate him so opon þe croune,
Vnto þe breste bane it sank doune;
In tua parties þe heid he cleue;
He made him suo þe lif to leue.
Helme and heide clouen in partise,
ffollon so felle, neuer efter to rise.
ffollon felle doune opon þe claie
With þat adint, þe soȝ to saie.
Arthur nama dintes him deles.
A quile he spurned with his heles
And sone opon he yialde þe gaste.
Arthur þe prise he so purchaste.

Kyng arthur wan france hym tyll,
And newen ȝers he dweld þar styll.

Þis was sone anogh puplist.
Sen alle þe oste it kneu and wiste,
Alle parisses citisaines
Þai stode nalangre arthur againes.
Þai opend þe yiates of parisse,
Þe cite yiolden to arthur and hisse.
Alle þe cite withouten targing
Þai yield to arthur þe kyng.
Qwen arthur had þus follon slane
And þe cite of paris tane,
And alle vnto his willes yiolden,
Iilkeman redie do quat he wolden,
Mar to win yitte he was thra.
He partede his oste ful euen in twa:
Þe ta hal[f]e with himself to duel,
Þe toþer he taght to þe duk hoel.
He bad him wind sone and thralie
On gwitard, duk of pikardie,
To fight on him and his contre
And make subgette him to be;
Þe toþer partie with him to halde,
With þas to oþer contres he salde,
Þam and þar princes for to tak,
Subgettes to him þam for to mak.

Kyng hoel went to aquitaine;
He destroied alle was him againe.
Cites of þe contres he laght,
And on gwitarde ofte siþes he faght.
In fele batailes ofte times þai smite,
Bot euer guitarde he was scomfite.
Hoel him euer so forth on soght,
Til he had him in seruage broght.
Gascoine he sette in flam and fire,
Destroiede euerilke contre and schir,
Þe cites segede, þe peple he slogh,
He wroght þar in grete sorow and wogh.
Princes and dukes bath gud and ille
Alle broght he þam to Arthurs wille,
In his subgection for to dare,
In seruage suorn for euer mare.
Þus to werrai and fight þai dreghien,
To it wer past þe yiers nighien.
Þan alle þe contres galliene
Broght in Arthur pouste wer sene.
Alle princes and dukes withouten lette
In seruice war stabliste and sette.
Eftesons to paris arthur comes
Þar to ordaine for his kinghdomes.
Lo, in paris paisable he duelde,
And fulgrete curt þar in he helde.
A gret parlement haf þar he walde;
Alle þe clergie þar to he calde,
And alle þe dukes, erles, and princes
Þat wer in galliene prouinces,

To ordaine him and þam bituene
State of þe regne to sustene,
Þoru alle þe regne to stablis pes,
Alkins distance to stem and ces.
Arthur cald his knightes Þat tim
Þat in bataile had dured with him,
And he gaf þan to beduere,
Þat lang had ben his botelere,
Lorde to be of carusie,
Qwilk now men calles it normundie.
To caie his knight, so forth conable,
Þat meses sette opon his table,
He gaf alle andegaues contres.
ffele oþer contres, prouinces, and fes
He gaf to oþer noble bachelers,
Þat had him serued durand yiers,
Þat helped him in bataile and wer;
He gifen ilkane after þai wer.
Kyng Arthur sagh and vnderstode
Alle was stablist in laughes gode,
Cites stabliste also at þe beste,
Þe comun pople in pes and reste:
Winter past, wartide it was,
Til britaine þeþen certes wald he pas.
He ordainede him to turn againe
After þas ten yiers in to britaine.
Of arthurs comyng alle þe britons
And alle þat within britaine wons
Joyful þai war and made gud cher,
Of þar frendes comyng faine ilkan ser.

Alle mad þai mirthes and wer ful faine
Þar kyng wer comyng and þar soueraine.
Arthur had made þe table rounde,
So fer of spoken and mikel renound,
Mad for euenhed withouten fraude:
His knightes and he alle parigaude,
Nane best, nane warste, nane hegher þan oþer,
Alle euen peris, alle frendes and broþer,
A uoise quant, of A corage,
Of thewes fair, nankins vtrage,
Of strengh, pruesse, of facund gode,
Curtais, and in A wille þai stode.
In alle landes was speche delitable,
Speche of þe knightes of þe round table;
Arthur alosede alle landes þat tim,
Spak bontes And pruesse of him.

Her was solempned pentecostyn,
Worschipfuller was neuer none seyn.

Bi[f]or þe somertidde þe sam yier
Þe feste so noble, sol[e]mpne and der,
Of þe pentecost towardes it drogh;
Kyng arthur was ioieful anogh,
Þe maistry ouer alle kinges he wan.
Þe comyng of witte sondaie bigan.
Kyng arthur had in wille and walde
Þe wittesondaie in worschip halde,
Þe haligast als for to queme,
On his heide to sette diademe.
Kynges and dukes and princes alle
Subgettes to him he dide þar calle.

ffor to solempne þe so grete feste
Alle suld þai com at his requeste,
Amanges þe grete folk of his cur
To aferm þe pes stablist to dur.
And als we rede þe storie mons,
In þe cite of legions
It was þe kynges conseile and wille
Alle his purpes for to fulfille.
In glamorgane on oskes flode
Noght fer fra sauernes se it stode.
Þis cite he to þis feste ches,
Of alle cites mast of riches.
Ek beste it semed in þat cite
To hald þe gret solempnite.
Of þe ta halfe þe noble flod þat tide
fflued þe cite faste biside,
Qwar kynges and princes with þar nauie,
Þat comand wer, might fair aplie.
On þe toþer hal[f]e was wodes and henges
And palais fair for dukes and kynges,
Large palais als lik to rome
ffor ese of alle lordes þat come.
In þase daise þe cite within
Wer edifid riche kirkes twin:

Þe tane in honour of saint iulie,
Þe holi martir saint and worthie;
And in þat kirk habites and wonnes
Gadring of saint maidens and nonnes.
Þe toþer kirk was, þe soȝ to here,
Of saint aaron martir his fere.
Of chanons þar duelde þe couent;
Þai seruede god in gude atent.
Þe thridde see metropolitane
Of britaine hafed, and ek it schane
Als in lare of astronomie
And of alle artes of clergie.
Þar in was vniuersite hale
Of alkins artes cald liberale.
Þar in was clergie so many and fele
With alkins sciens for to dele,
Þe curse of sternes tentif þai kneu,
Wondres comande to scheu of neu,
To kyng arthur scheu qwat slik stentes,
Proue þam with suthfast argumentes.
Þe cite hafede delices honeste
Þar to solempne þe kynges feste.
Legates, sent lordinges to bede,
Into diuers kyngdomes þai yiede,
Sum in to gallicanes contres,
Sum to þe hiles of þe weste ces.
Þai bid þam alle in ilke kyngdum
Þat biden sulde be þider to cum.
Þar come kynges and dukes worthie:

Augusele, kyng of albanie,
Þat now es calde þe land of scoce,
Cadwallon, kyng of venedoce,
Þat now for northwales es tane,
Of murefensie kyng vriane,
Stater, þe kyng demeciene,
Þat es suthwales als for to mene;
Of cornewaile come þe kyng cadore,
Of knightes with þam wele many A score.
And þider come þe primates thrin,
Archebischopes britaine within:
fformaste þe archebischope of londen,
Þe toþer, alsua nexte him funden,
Primite of eborwikes see,
Dubrice of legions cite;
He of britaine þe aeldest prelate
And of þe Aposteles see legate,
He was man of ful holy lif,
In alkins gude werkes tentif.
Men þat languste, seke and vnfer,
He wariste þam þoru his praier.
Lo, þis thre metropolitanes
Wer comen with alle þar suffraganes.
Þider com dukes to vnderstande
Of nobles cites of þe lande:
Morwide, þe duk of claudocestre,
And ionatal, duk of dorchestre,
And mauron, þe duk of wirgorn,
Nou warwik cald, so hight biforn;

Of legecestre þe duk iugen,
Boso, þe duk of ridochen,
Þat oxenforth siþen namede þaron,
And vrbgen, þe duk of badon;
Duk of caicestre, cursale, was þare,
Þe duk of dorobern kymare,
Duk of salesbir, his name galluk,
Alle þase with many A oþer duk.
Oþer dukes and barons men ses,
Þat wer comen, of lesse dignites:
Heroes, donaut, and mapapo
Ceneus, meppoil, peredure alsuo,
Maberidure, grisud, and regin,
Mapnogoide, mapeledauk, eddelin,
Maplaud, kyniar, gorbaniane,
Kilbelin, mapcatel, poluane,
And many oþer of britaines hile;
To number þar names wald haf lang quile.
On hiles wer without on sides
Þe kynges þai come þider þat tides:
Gillamur, þe kyng of hirlande,
And doldau, þe kyng of godelande,
And þe kyng of islande, maluase,
Þe kyng of orchadie, gunwase;
Kyng achille of Dainmark þat daie
He come and loth, þe kyng of norwaie.

ffra ouer cee come dukes and kynges,
Qwilk þe nauie fra ouer cee bringes:
ffra rictenore þe duk holdie
And beduer, duk of normundie,
Duk of coloine, laodegare,
Gwitarde, duk potters, com þare,
Borelle, duk of cenemansie,
Caie, þe duk of andegausie.
Tuelf pers of france þider soght;
Gerin carnotens duk þam broght;
Of amorik þe kyng hoel,
Of lesse britaine, þe soth to spel,
With alle erls And þe barons,
Þat wer in þar subgections.
Qwat horses and mules and riche schrudings
Was comen þider with dukes and kynges
And riches out of landes diuers,
Es noght to saie ne to rehers.
Withouten þise þar lefte na prince
Renunde of prise in any prouince.
Na prince it was about hispaine
Þat þider to cum [n]e did his paine.
Nawonder; forqwi þe pruesse
Of kyng arthur and þe largesse
In alle landes it was pupliste;
Nane slik in alle þis warld men wiste.
To luf him alkins folk he drogh;
His name it was knawen anogh.

Þe kyng and qwen went procession,
With crovnys on hede, gret off renowne.

Gadredde wer alle in þe cite
To bigin þe solempnite.
Thre Archebischopes, so men sais,
Wer broght formaste to þe palais,
Þar for to sette þe diademe
On arthures heide, so it walde seme;
fformaste primat of aelde, dubrice,
Sen it was in his diocice.
Þe messe to sacre he tok þe cure
In presens of þe kyng arthure.
Þe kyng cronde to temple was ledde
Of primates see to þe saint stedde.
Twa archebischopes him ledde þat tidde:
Aprimat certes on alder side;
ffour kynges forsoȝ apar[a]ilde ware
ffour swerdes of golde bifor him bare:
Þe kyng of albanie was ane,
Cornewailes kyng anoþer was tane,
Kyng of demecie þe thridde,
Of venedoce þe ferde þam midde.
Þai bare foure swerdes of gold so breght,
So men said þan it was þar right.
Of clerkes of order ful gret couent
fful loude singhande bifor þam went.
Þe quen gainor, so semede þat tide,
To temple was ledde with ful gret pride.

On [o]þer partie gainor þe quen
With coron of gold men might her sene.
Primates, bischopes, so men saidens,
Ledde hir to temple of nonnes and maidens.
Of þis four kynges bifor saide
Þar four quenes richelie wer graide.
Þai yiode in sight of þe qwene gainor;
ffour qwite doufes þai bar her bifor.
Alle þe laidise þider comen þat daie
With gret ioie her ensuede þai.
Trumpes and beimes, orgons and harpes,
With alkins mirthes þe pople of carpes—
Qwen þis processione was done,
And þai to temples broght welsone,
In aiþer temple orgons and sang
So mikel was herd of folk amang,
Þat of þe gret swettenes to here
Alle þe knightes þider comen were,
Þai ne wiste ne ek cuth telle
In queþer temple swetter to duelle.
Bot alle þe tide now ane, now oþer,
Paste fra þe tane vnto þe toþer,
Þat schort þai [þ]oght þe daie so lang
Slik ioie to se, to her slik sang.
Alle þe daie þam wald þink fulschort
To be, þam þught, in slik confort.

Of þe gret fest and þe largese,
Þat arthur maid and þe prowese.

Office was done of ane and oþer
Baȝ in þe takirk and þe toþer.
Kyng and þe quene þai wer broght hame,
Þar diademes þai dide fra þame.
Þai tok opon þam lighter wede:
Þe kyng to þe palais he yiede,
And to anoþer palais paste scho
With laides, so fel her vnto.
Aiþer þar with company gret
Þai sette þam richelie to þe mete.
ffor þe britons þase dais wer sene
Hald aunciene custum troiene:
Men with men to mangerie cum,
Women with women þoru custum
Solempned þar dais festiuale,
Sondre to ete in kynges sale.
Qwen alle wer sette to bordes calde,
Ilke man so his dignite walde,
Caie, so richelie in heremin cledde,
Sette fode bifor þam suld be fedde.
Athousande knightes him suede þat tim
Sette meses on bordes þat daie with him,
In heremin cledde þis knightes alle,
Þat serued with him in þe kynges halle.

On oþer parte come duk beduere,
Cledde in veire als botelere.
Him suede ten vndreȝ knightes fair,
With coupes on hand, alle cledd in vair.
Coupes þai bar with diuerse drinkes,
Ministrede to þam satte on þe binkes.
In þe quenes palais þat daie
Ministres withouten numbre wer þai.
Þai ministrede in þe quenes presens,
Alle cledde in riche diuerse ornemens.
Þai dide þar office fair and clene;
Slik sight in britaine was neuer sene.
State of þis seruise for to spelle
Es noght til vs langer to duelle.
To slik state certes of dignite
Was britaine broght þase daise to se,
Þat þe plente of large richesse
Þoruout alle þe hile to gesse
And þe ornemens of riche schrudyng,
And curtesie and fair bering
Amanges britons anens þar lede
Alle oþer kyngdoms it oueryiode.
Ilke knight of fame and of honour
His wede, his harmes of a colour,
In felde, in halle, in folkes sight,
Withouten pompe had semelie dight.

Noble women and þe laidys
In schrudyng vsed þe same gise.
Naman þai lofed, na man þai louede,
Bot he wer thris in proues prouede.
Women wer þan mar chaste and gode,
And better in bering certes þai stode.
Þe knightes þam mar to prowes þam gaf
Þe lofe of gude women to haf.
Qwen folk had eten and drunken anogh,
Knightes to ser plainges þai drogh.
Sum without cite durande þe daie
Þai went to feldes, þam þar to plaie.
Knightes without þe cite rade,
Plaiyngs on horse wele fair þai made.
Laidise ouer þe walles bihelde
How knightes plaiede in þe felde.
Þar lof þai kest on knightes þar
After þai sagh þam semelie far.
Sum plaiede with swerdes and sum with spers,
Sum oþer plaiyngs in handis bers,
Sum plaide on horse and sum on fote,
Sum boghes in hande als for fo schote,
Sum at þe cailes, sum at þe balle—
Women bihelde on þe cite walle—
And sum wiȝ hevie stanes to caste,
Vnto welner þe daie was paste,

With alkins manar diuersites
Of alkins plaie þar men ses.
And king arthur to euerilke man
Of alkins plaie þe mastrie wan
He gaf þam giftes als large and fre,
And þus he dide þe daies thre.
Þe forte daie certes sone at morn
Ministres was cald him biforn.
Bath his knightes and clerkes lerde
Þar mede to tak of him aperde.
Þar he þam gaf fes and honours,
Cites and ek castels and tours,
Archebischoberikes and beschoberikes
To clerkes, so he þar seruice likes,
Abbais and ser possessions,
Sum made abotes and sum parsons.
Saint dubrice ceste of dignite,
He lefte þe archebischopes see.
To life of heremite he him tok,
All worldisse honour he forsok.
In legions kirk to ber his state
Saint dauide was sacred primate.
He was þe kynges heme, arthur,
In alle godnes prouede chaste and pur,
His life ensample of alle godenesse,
His doctrine lare to mar and lesse.

In lesse britaine, cald amorik,
Of dales kirk, þe archebischoprik,
So þar in sainte sampsones stedde
Theliau was sacrede and þider ledde,
Theliau þe gude preste of landaue;
Þe kyng hoel so veched saue.
ffor A hali man he was pupliste
Anens mours and lif of priste.
Þan silcestre bischoperik was gifen
To maugan, gastelie þar to lifen.
Wintonies bischoperik onane
Was gifen alsuo to duniane.
And alclude bischoperik was sene
Þat tim gifen to eledene.

Twelf knyghtes of rome in goodly agh
ffro lucius to arthur com messagh.

Qwiles arthur frelie gaf slik gi[f]tes
Ande his ministres to honour li[f]tes,
Lo, in entres twelf semelie knightes
Of forth aelde and voutable to sightes,
Honurable men of stat and vouth,
Als fra þe empir with outen douth.
Oliue braunches in handes þai bar
In takening messangers þai war.

Ande with a ful atempre pace
Þai com bifor þe kinges face.
And, lo, on knes fair þai þam sette,
With honour þai him saluste and grette.
ffra lucius þai him offrede and bede
Letters in þis wordes to rede:
“Lucius tiberion so fre,
Proketour of romes dignite,
To arthur kyng in britaine lendes
Þat he has seruede same he him sendes:
Wonder me think and wonder it esse
Of þine folies in dedes to gesse.
Amanges þin pers als A tiran
Bers þe so þou gas of na man.
Anens þi stat me think gret wonder
Þat þou wenes ouer, it es alle under.
Vnright þou dos and has done lang;
To romes empire þou bers þe wrang.
Þou hafes þe born fulmisse lang thraw,
So al þis warld mai se [and] knaw.
Dedeing me þink anens þin dedes,
Þe to amende na þink þou spedes.
Qwat it es þou ne knawes ne ses
Do wrang to romes dignites,
To qwilk þis warlde so wide and brade
Subgection so frelie has made.
Of rome þou standes noȝ to þe laghes;
Truage þar fra ek þou withdraghes
Þat of britaine to yield es stent
Þoru senatoures comandement,

Qwilk iulius gaie first he wan,
Siþen after him many A doghti man
Has resaiuede þis daies biforn.
We wil noght suffer þat it be lorn.
In þe weste þou makes þe slik A sire
A gaines þe order of þe empire,
Þat saide es þou has vndertane
Truage to rome for to yield nane.
And alle þe landes galliene
And þe contres allobrogene
ffra romes empir certes þou refes,
So þat þe landes with þe bilefes;
And alle þe hiles in þe weste ce
Þou has þase daies aproprede to þe,
Of qwilk þe kynges with willes gode,
Quiles romes pouste in þas hiles stode,
To myne antecessours truage yia[l]de,
And vouched of þam þar landes halde.
fforqui þou has done alle þis wranges,
Our senatours þam alle amanges
Has sette þar on decre and dome
Amendes þat þou salle mak to rome:
Truage of þe vs to recouer,
And for þe yiers þat er paste ouer
Asseth mak of alle es bihinde,
Of lang tides so writen we finde;
Qwarfor bi letter I comande þe
Þat þou within þes yiers thre

Obeisse and cum þi lordes bifore,
Þe thinges withdraghien so to restor,
And vnto þar domes to stande
Of alle þou has done biforhande,
Þat þou has wroght agains þar wille,
Stand to þar domes in gude and ille.
If þou wille noght be so Ad[r]este,
Mi selfe salle cum in to þe weste;
And alle þe strenght of rome sal rise
To cum with me til þase partise,
Bot þou within þis thre yier space
Yielde þe to vs and gette our grace.
Þi fame fra þan it bes periste.
Þat þou fra vs with wrang rauiste
Restore Againe I salle noght stint
In slaghter of dede with swerdes dint.
Bring þe to rome I salle þoru fors,
Iewes to suffer anens þi cors.”

To counsell yoid þar lordes alle
In gyanttes tour, þat so was calle.

Redde wer þis letters, þe soth to witen,
Worde for word, so þai wer writen,
Bifor þe kyng and his dukes alle,
Þat satte A boute him in þe halle.
With princes and dukes þe kyng arthur
Went vnto þe geauntes tour,
Qwilk tour was edifide to be
At þe palais ouer þe entre,
With þam alle þar conseile to tak,
Againes slik sandes ansuer to mak.

Þai entrand in to þe consaille,
Sone logh cador, duk of cornewaille.
Slik wordes he saide with gladful cher
Bifor þe king, þat alle might here:
“Dred bifor noght in herte I keste
Britons to lang has pes and reste
Þe lang pes and quiete fra now
Suld mak þam slau, naþing to dow,
And so amanges alle folk suppose
Þe fame of cheualrie to lose.
Britons þe beste of þis midelerde
Of þam I was ful mikelle Aferde
ffor lang durand slik reste and pes
ffame of p[r]owes in þam suld ces.
Quare vse of armes amanges folk cesses,
Licherie certes and sin encresses,
fflaume of women, aserd, and tables,
Alle slik riotes ful vncouenables;
To think in herte thar na man scurn
Our vertues suo to vices wil turne;
Our hardinesse, honour, and fame
Þoru odiuesse wil turne to schame,
If we in reste lirte forth our life,
Sen it er paste now yiers fife
Þat we haf lifen in delices,

Of slawnes gifen vs to þe vices,
And nane dedes of armes hauntes.
Godde vs na langer so grauntes.
He settes willes in þe romains
ffor to rise vs now agains.
Renouel our state wil þai of rome,
Schame wer til vs to lang lie tome.”
Slik wordes and slik quen duk cador
Had spoken and saide þam alle bifor
Gadred þar wer, þe princes grete,
And ilke þar sette doune in his sete,
Arthur saide þus þam all vntille:
“Mi fers treu in gude and ille,
Our prowes es anogh prouede,
And I, þoru yow honourd and louede,
Wroght I haf at your consailes
In cheualries and in batailes.
And in þis nedes it spedes now
Helpe and assent to haf of yow.
Wiselie lokes now your assentes
Qwat es to do of slik maundementes.
Consaile of A man þat es wise
Helpes mikel in speding for to rise.
Wise mannes consail ful mikel spedes
Esplait to haf, quen comes to dedes.

Lighlieste es vs defend and were
Againes him þat wil vs dere,
Lucius, þat wil vs vnquiete
And thretes to put vs vnder fete,
If we þoru comun stodie bi war
Qwatkins gise beste kepe him vs thar,
Him and his folk to enfeb[l]isse,
Mak him of his purpos to misse.
Me think of him I haf na dout,
ffor I am noght his vnderlout.
And ek he has na right cheson
Of vs hask truage þat here won.
Lo, he desires in his curage
Of þis britaine to haf truage.
He sais I salle stande til his lagh
And þat þis hile truage him agh,
for it was yiolden to iulius,
Þat þoru strenȝ so wan it on vs,
And siþen to oþer emperours
Þat has ben his entecessours.
Iulius cesar with armede pouste
Entred þis hile euer hade ben fre;
Þoru fraud and gil of sum of ours
Truage he wan þe emperours;
So þoru fors And falsed in þatte
Truage for alle þis hile he gatte;

ffor þai it wan falselie þoru gile
Of vs won frelie in þis hile,
Þoru treuȝ and right ilke man to lok,
Of vs falselie truage þai tok.
Naþing vonen þoru fors and wrang
Mai be vsede and maintend lang.
He þat þoru fors oght winnes and takes
Vnstable chosen to him he makes.
Haske me truage he has bigonen
Þoru strenȝ and fors vn to þam wonen.
Lo, þoru þe same reson and dome
Haske we salle truage of rome.
ffor im es noght bot profe in felde
Qweþer to oþer salle truage yielde.
Iulius cesar and oþer romains
Entred opon our citisaines,
Broght in seruage þas landes here
Truage to yield þam yier bi yier,
And so þoru strenȝ þai wald noȝ lette
Kynges of britaine in thraldum sette.
Þe same I think, if þat I life,
Rome to me salle tru[a]ge gife,
ffor qwi my Antecessours it wan:
Belin, þat was so noble a man,
And brenius, his broþer so fre,
Rome þai wan and þe contre;

With albrogenes and britons
Þai had it in possessions.
Yia, þat tim belin, britones king,
Romaines he dide bifor him bring.
ffour and twentie dide þai hang
Of þe nobleste wer þam amang.
And siþen rome þai had lang thrawes,
So alle þe warlde it wa[t] and knawes;
Kyng constantine, elines son,
Satte rome in possession,
And maximiane, baȝ he and he
Þoru right of blode baȝ ner to me,
Aiþer after oþer, þe soth to saine,
Wer corond kynges of britaine.
Baȝ þai had rome and þe empir,
Hask it þar for I sall desir.
Qwarfor þoru right, als semes to se,
Þe landes of rome agh myn to be;
And of þe landes galliene
And hiles in þe weste ce er sene
Ansuer to þam am I noght halden,
Defende þam þan sin þai ne walden.
Defende þam þase daies þai forsok,
Qwen I þam fra þar pouste tok.”

ffyrst spak hoel, þat dughty man,
Þat was kyng of lytyl brittan.

Hoel, þe kyng of amorik,
After arthur said wordes slik—
Nexte kyng arthur he formast herde—
Bifor þam alle þus he ansuerde:
“Þof ilkan of vs had [þo]ght
Qwat in þis cas might best be wroght,
I wate to seke of vs ilkane
Better consaile certes es it nane
Þan of þe witte we here þe saie,
Þoru þi descrecion to puruaie.
Amanges vs alle certes we loue sale
Of noblest consaile profite so hale,
Of stedfast man þe willes frek,
And eke of wise corage effek.
Lo, wide to rome if þat þou wille,
So þat þou has saide for þe same skille,
Defend our franchise to bigin,
Nadout we salle victorie to win,
Sen þai of vs wille hask and crafe
With wrang þat þai of vs wille haf;
Þai, þat hafes in wille now and modes
To refe fra oþer men þar godes,

Worthelie þai þar aghien sal tine,
Sen wrang euer worthes to euel fine.
ffor þe romains in willes er þai
Refe vs our gudes, if þat þai mai,
Refe þam þaers we salle not lette,
W[i]ȝ chance fra þai and we be mette.
Now þe metyng es for to se
Of alle britons desirede to be.
So befor saide sibille þe sage:
Thris salle rise of britons linage
Þat sal haf and welde romes empir.
Alle britons þis honour desir.
Her wordes fulfilde er of þe tua;
So scho has said, it has bene sua.
ffor first þe noble prince belin,
And essones þe kyng constantin
Of rome þai wan þe diadem.
Þou es þe thridde þat it salle seme.
Þe thridde salle we haf þe þoru right
To qwam þat ilk honour es hight.
Hie forþi honour to tak
Þat godde has ordainde for þi sak.
Hie þe in þat honour to lif
Qwilk godde ordaines to þe to gif.

Hie þe and mak þou na targing
Þis ilke folk vnder þi yok to bring,
Þat in þar aghien wille þus soght
In þi subgection be broght.
Hie þe vs alle now for to raise
And þe in to þe empir to saise.
Hie þe til him now after þe sendes,
Lok queder salle mak to oþer amendes.
Hie þe vnto þe prude romains,
Sen þai bigin rise þe agains.
Þat ilke empir to win to þe,
In wille, in dede, I sal noght fle
Þarfor in feld to suffer wondes
Oþer life to lose, li dede on grondes.
Þis to fulfille of armede men
I sal þe forde thosandes ten,
Alle asocede vnto my schelde,
With þe to mette þam in þe felde.”

Þe answer þat kyng arthur sent
With messyngers agan to rome present.

Fra kyng hoel had said þus wele,
Of albanie kyng augusele
Qwat was his wille was noȝ to laine;
Þis wordes he said ioiful and faine:
“Sen me wele likes al to fulfille
Þat my lorde, þe kyng, has in wille,
So mikel ioy and lighsumnesse
In my corage me think it esse
Þat to naman I may it spelle.

Of alle pruesses þase bifor felle
Þat we bifor to kynges has wroght,
To ame me think þam welner noght.
Qwiles þai of rome haf bene so felle,
We dide þam neuer apoint of ille.
And þai of germanie alsua
Of vs had þai neuer sorow ne wa.
Alle our dedes þai er bot fone,
Welner noght, þat we haf done,
Qwiles þe germains and þai of rome
ffonde we neuer amanges þam tome.
Ofte haf þai endrede þis contres her
And wroght þam sorow our aeldres wer.
To brin and sla þai wald neuer blin,
Þis hile fra our aeldres to win.
Toche þar contres I wald her speke,
Sum tides vs on þam to wreke.
Now I desir to se þe daie
In feld might mete baȝ we and þaie.
It wer my ioy cum in þe stedde
Qwar I might se þar blode be schedde.
Þis wer me leuer in herte me think
Þan, if I thre daies tharned drink,
Weld be to finde a fair welle prest
Qwar I might drink and sloken my threst.
A, þat I þat daie might se
In felde be mete baȝ þai and we.
To suffer wondes me wald be swete,

Qwar þoru þat we and þai might mete,
Our fadres to wrek dede to sustene,
And our franchise noght lost be sene
And ek our kinges dignite
Se regne fra ethen to romes cite.
Go we on þam, þis es my rede;
Hald we to gider, þai er halfe dede.
Vencus we þam alle þe honours:
Þat now er þairs þai salle be ours.
Our ostes to ek þus fele oþer ma,
Of armed men thosandes twa
Withouten folk salle cum on fote
With spa[r]thes and speres and boghes to schote,
Þis salle I furth vnto our kyng,
My self in feld with þam to bring.”
And after alle oþer þar willes had saiden
And granted folk suld be puruaiden,
Iilke princes and dukes in help þai hight
ffolk of armes redie to dight.
Withouten þase, þe soth to saine,
Kyng Hoel hight fra lesse britaine
Of britaine hile was numbred anelie
Of armed men thosandes sextie.
Oþer kynges of þe hiles thries thre
Of armed knight hade na plente;

ffor þi þai hight of fote men fele,
ffour scor thosandes be numbre hele.
Yia, sum on horse and sum on fete
Sulde be of þam gret numbre þai hete,
And þam self ek with þe knightes
Þat þai might arme vnto þar rightes.
Hirland, hislande, and orkanai,
Godeland, danmark, and ek norwai,
Þise sex kynges of þise sex hiles
Slik helpe to þe kyng þai hight iqwiles.
Þe dukes of france and of rutens,
Of pontifes, and of neustriens,
Of pikardie alle þis hight þen
To furth four scor thosandes of men.
Þe twelfe pers þat þan was sene
Come with duk gerine carnotene
Vnto arthur þase þar þai plight
Twelfe vndreȝ men redi to dight,
Sua þat of alle broght of þase landes
Thre and ten scor thosandes
And twa vndreȝ þis armes bare,
Of fote men certes þe number was mare:
Archars with boghes, sum with alblaste
And sum with s[l]inges stanes to caste.
Ligheli þam number it might na man
Þat s[o]ght vnto king arthur þan.

Arthur accepted þar promesse,
In helpe to him an[o]gh to gesse.
He bade þam alle with wordes fair
In to þar contres hame repair,
Þis to him hight to mak redie
Baȝ of fote men and cheualrie,
Ilke þar with alle to þam apendes.
And of auguste in þe calendes
Þai sal arife with willes gode
At þe port hafen of barbes flode,
Þat þien þai might passe with him
Til allobroges contres þat tim
And þar to mete with þe romains
And þase contres come þam agains.
To þe emperours ansuer he sent
With þar legates þat agains went:
Na truage yield þam for his lande
And to þar domes he wald noȝ stand.
Bot wite þai he wald mak his come
Hastelie to þam of rome,
Of þam to hask—he vnderstode
Rome suld be his þoru right of blode—
Þat fra him lang was with halden;
Þe empir of rome haf it he walden.
Legates þof þai er with scurnede,
With his ansuer hame þai turnede.

Kynges and princes next wai to caste
Hame in to þar contres þai paste.
Arthures bidinges with willes large
Paraile redie þai wald noȝ targe.

Arthur was schewen in a vision
A dredfull ber and a dragon.

Lvcius tiberion he herde
How kyng arthur again ansuerde.
With alle þe senatours assent
Welraȝ he made his comandement
To alle þe kinges of þe este partise:
With parailde ostes þai suld rise
Til him to cum, britaines king
In þar subgection for to bring.
Sone gadred to him within þat yier
Wel fele kynges of landes seir.
Spistrope, þe kyng of grece,
With alle þe dukes of þase contres;
Þe kyng of affrik mustensar,
He in batail ful gret woke bar;
Of hispaine kyng aliphatim
With gret power he come to him;
Of partes þar come þe kyng hictase
And of egipte þe kyng pandrase;
To him comes bokke, þe kyng of medes,
Grete cheualrie with him he ledes;
Þer come sertor, kyng of libie,
And serses, kyng of iturie;

Of babiloine kyng micispa
To lucius come with willes thra;
Polit, þe duk of bethinie,
Echion, þe duk of borune;
Of prigie com þe duk theuter
And of sirie duk euander;
Of crete come þe duk ipolite
And oþer dukes of grete profite.
ffele oþer princes with þam cam
With knightes þat wer subgettes to þam.
Of senatours order come lucius,
Capel, lupidde, and marius,
Gaie maptel, cutase, and quint,
In feld aper þai wald noȝ stint,
Quint secunde, catule, and caruk,
And milue, renound a noble duk;
And oþer so fele, lo, þai cum alle
To lucius tiberions calle:
Of armed men bi number redie
ffourti thousandes and ek sextie
Ane vndreȝ yitte numbred þar war
Of knightes auentours, þat armes bar.
And alkins þinges ek þai puruaide
Þat to so grete folk suld be graide.
And qwen auguste calendes bigan,
Towardes britaine þai passede þan.
Come of þase kinges, so kene and balde,
In arthur curt fulraȝ was talde.

Arthur, or he of britaine yiede,
He gaf to his cosin modrede
And to gainor, þe quene alsua,
Alle britaines hile vnto þam tua,
To yieme and gete in his assent,
Quiles he againes þe romains went.
Qwen arthur kyng þus had done,
To hamones porte he com fulson.
And þar forsoȝ with fulgret oste
And princes fele with him asoste
He entrede into þe cees flode;
Þe winde[s] vnto his willes þai stode.
Qwiles with his so grete bachelrie,
Withouten number schipes of nauie,
With winful curse als forto gesse,
On hegh ce stedde with lightsumnesse,
At þe midde night so for to ame
Kyng arthur slepe on ce fame,
In schipe he slepe at þe midd night,
Him þoght he sagh a wonderful sight.
He þoght he sagh in þe air so hegh
Ane aghful bere with winges flegh,
His noise so rude, alle þis midelerde
He þoght for him might be aferde;
So griseli a beste opon to luk,
Alle þe ce bankes þai trembled and quok.
A griselie dragon eger and preste
He sagh cum fleande of þe weste.

Þe splendur of his eghen to se
Enluminde bright alle þe contre.
Aiþer of þase bestes on oþer ran,
And same to fight sone þai bigan.
Wondreful fight was þam bituen
And ful austere in sight to sene.
Bot þe dragon ful ofte on rinnes,
With brinnand aende þe bere he brinnes.
Þe dragons aende it brind so fire;
On þe bere he smittes with ful gret ire.
Þe bere he brinde, þe soȝ to saie,
So brinde he rused him to þe claie.
Arthur of his slepe he wok,
To þis vision kepe he tok.
He tald qwat he sagh in his dreme
Of þe bestes so eger and breme.
Þai expond and saide þat tide:
Him self þe dragon signifide,
And sum geant menes þe bere,
“Þat in batail thinkes þe to dere.
ffighting of þam it menes sa[n] faile:
Bitwen yow es comand bataile.
And þe dragons victorie
Þe ouerhand haf wil signifie.”
Bot arthur þoght þis vision
Of þe bere and of þe dragon
Wald mene þe batail and þe stoures
Bitwen him and þe emperoures.

Tythanddes com to hym certane
Of þe gret gyant of spyane.

Daie spran and sone opon þe morn
Þe son it ras fair þam biforn.
Þe weders þai war to þar confort;
Þai rifes in barles fluuies port.
And sone on landes þai raised tentes;
Mak duelling þar arthur assentes.
Kynges of þe hiles þar he abides
And of contres fra alle þe sides
Dukes and princes, þat wer comande
With fulgret strenȝ to vnderstande.
To arthur kyng iquiles was talde
Of A geant felons and balde,
In fight so mikel and gret of cors;
He semede be of wonderful fors,
Out of hispaines contres comen,
Wonnyngstede in þase wastins nomen.
Þai tald he had rauiste A maiden,
Elene, kyng hoeles nece, men saiden.
He had her refte fra her wardains
And born her into þe montains.
Þis geant was so rebel and curste,
Mak him rescu certes naman durste.
Þe maiden he tok to wirk his wille
With her vp in wastins hille,
Qwilk folk þat now in contres duel
Names it þe mont of saint michel.
Knightes off þe contres so fele
Þai had na strenȝ with him to dele.

Againes [him] certes þai might do noght.
ffor euer so þai opon him soght,
Wer it on ce, wer it on lande,
With gret stanes he a bout him fande
Of schipes he wald þe sides smite out,
And drunken þe folk he had na dout,
Oþer he wald with willes thra
With alkins gere men brisse and sla.
And many of þase qwilk he ouer tok
Welner for dede he þam for sok,
Oþer dede oþer slane þam lefte,
Oþer sumkins lim fra þam he refte.
In þe secunde hour of þe next night,
Qwen al was derk, vnnese oght light,
Kyng arthur tok twa bachelers:
Caie, þat serued him so fele yiers,
Þe toþer it was þe duk beduer,
Þat for him self was butuler.
Na ma knightes bot þase thre
ffra þar tentes þai past priue.
Þai name þe waie þai kneu mast gaine
Towardes þe of spoken montaine.
Arthur said noght to mak boste
ffor A wo[i]ding trauil A noste,

Sen he alon, if nede to drogh,
To fight with alle suffiste a nogh.
Allan, lo, he affies him wele
To vencus slik a þink vnfele.
To þe montains qwen þai drogh ner,
On hegh þai sagh fires brin cler.
Anoþer fire þai sagh þat tide
Opon A lesse montaine biside.
Bath þase fires, lo, þai bihelde;
Þai ne wiste at qweþer þe geant duelde.
Beduer sone assignede þaie
Qwar he suld be for to assaie.
Beduer paste forth so priuelie,
Of him þe certaine for to spie.
Alitel pace he fand ful preste
ffor þe passage redie þar feste.
Beduer þar in passede þe brok,
To þe lesse mont firste þe waie he tok;
Oþer he ne might þar to win;
Þis montains was þe ce within.
So he ascens þe mont bigan,
He herde weping of A woman.
He herde A woman yield and murnde.
ffirste for drede in herte he scurnede.
He douted þe geant wer neghum,
Auentour opon him for to cum.
He tok mar hardinese of herte:
His swerde out he drogh ful smert.

So draghien he bare it in his hande.
On þe hegh mont na þing he fande
Bot þe fire þat brind so bright,
Qwar of bifor he had A sight.
A grafe he sagh of new berielles,
Newlinges made; he fande noȝ elles:
Biside sittande, in sorow and care,
Ane aelde woman wepand fulsar.

A nald woman sat sor wepand,
Tald bediver alle of þe gyant.

Þis aeld woman, þat so sair wepe,
To beduer comen raȝ scho tokep.
So grete wald suffer in sorowful cher,
Scho saide þis wordes to þe bacheler:
“Vncelie man, qwat has þou soght?
Qwat waful werdes þe hider broght?
Qwat has þe broght in to þis stede
To suffer and thole so waful dede?
fful waful paines er towardes me,
And ek yitte me for þinkes of þe
Þat þis geant, þis vnsele wight,
Þi faire cors sal confunde þis night,
So wafullie þi blode sal schede,
Destroi þi flour of þi yiouthede.
Þis geant sal cum griselie to se
In manes schape so degise,

Þat rauiste kyng hoeles nece,
Slane and draghien her alto pece.
Þe maidens name it was elene,
ffaiyer in þis contre nan sene.
Als of her aelde fairyer was nane
To mannes sight of fleis and bane.
He tok of her þat him þoght beste
And þe remelande fra him he keste,
Þat he of her might gader haf:
I haf it delfen her in þis graf.
Her lies my dere, in lif nan swilk;
I fostrede her with my pappes milk.
Me her he kepis againes my wille:
Þe geant me broght in to þis hille.
Alsone, lo, comes þis latheli geant
Vnkinlie me to vse and hant.
Þe wil he murther in angre and tene
Þe vileste dede euer herde or sene.
Of my norrice so waful werdes:
Of forme faireste certes of alle bierdes,
So gude, so fre, gentil and fair,
Nan faryer þer funden vnder þe air,
Of tender aelde, in þe yier thretende,
So vile A wight her so suld schende.
So vnkindelie he with her delte;
Enbraste within his limes scho swelte.

Peti and reuȝ to mannes þoght
How he siþen with her fair cors wroght.
Mi warldes wele was her fairhede;
Mi help, my lof, my lif, my lede,
Alle my swetnesse, my herte, my dere,
Alle my likyng in þis warlde here,
Mi mirth, my ioie his paste me fra;
Mi dede on hastes, me es fulwa.
ffle hithen, þou man, swith hithen þou fle!
Þis foule wight son hider comes he,
In his fleiselie lustes, so vile,
Mi cors in licherie to file.
Godde wittenes and aelde of my cors:
Againes my wille it bes, þoru fors.
ffra he me haf to him enbraste,
In schort qwile sal I yield þe gaste.
If he þe se, witte þou, fulsone,
In fulschorte qwile þi life bes done.
Of þe he wille certes ful hastife
Ilke lim fra oþer ful rudelie rife.”
Beduer fra he had spoken with hir,
To soȝ, to witte, and knau and spir,
He conforted her with wordes of m[u]th
On þe faireste maner he cuth.
Of sorow he hight her haf solace
And helpe to cum within brefe space.
To kyng Arthur he come a gaine,
Þat he had s[e]ne na worde to laine,

He schewede him sone, yia, albidene
Þat he þe night had spirde and sene.
Arthur hade sorow and grete pite
Of þis maiden slik chance to be.
He bade þai sulde suffer him allane
Wrek þe maiden, dede þus slane.
Bot fra him þai suld noȝ be fer,
So it chance tidde he stode þe wer.
Manlie þai suld þam to him spedde
And help him, after þai fande nedde.
Þai þam A dreste with willes stout;
Þai com in to þe hegher mont.
Þar horses þai taght vnto þar swaines,
Þai gafe þam to þai come againes,
Qwils arthur, beduer, and caie
Went slik A wentour to asaie.
Arthur formast so bald anogh,
Þis oþer ensued neghim an[d] drogh.

Her arthur sclowe þe giant wyght
Thorow þe grace off god almyght.

Sight of þis geant had arthur,
Of griseli schape in mannes statour.
Threten foutes he had of lengh,
Dredful to mannes amyng his strengh.
A wel gret fire, lo, þar þai fande,
And þe geant þar to comande
Vnto þis fir; on aiþer coste
Wer spites with tender fleis to roste,

Swines fleis tender and oþer slik,
Haf for his fode so him walde lik.
Rudeli certes he ete of þis fleis,
With salte, þat was so tender and freis.
He ete þar of bi bites and bites,
Rostande it rathelie on þe spites.
Sumdel rosted and sumdel ra,
fful vnsemelie he fedde him sua.
Bot on þe spites yitte he tholes
Sum rostande better opon þe coles.
Arthur and his twa fers him midde
Hofede and bihelde how þat he didde.
Þis geant of þam was war and sagh
Þam thre comande towardes him dragh.
Welraȝ he ran to tak his mace,
Þat laie biside þarin þe place,
With iren on lapede, of a grete clifte:
Largelie it was of twa mennes lifte.
It was so heuie, þat bachelers twin
Vnnese it might fra þe erde win.
Bot arthur sone his swerd out drogh
And sette it to defens a nogh.
He hiede him lettyng to mak,
Or þe geant his mace sulde tak.
Or armes was A pon him born,
He wald be at þe mace biforn.
Bot cum betwene þam might he noȝ;
Þe gea[n]t gat þe mace he soght,

Adint on arthur for to feste.
Arthur his schelde bitwix þam keste.
With so gret fors oncom þe dint,
Sumqwat þarof to þe scheld stint,
And sumqwat sklent done to þe stane;
Slik sound of dint herde þai neuer nane.
Yia, qwen þe dintes to þe ground tok,
Þam þoght al þe montaine schok,
Þe cee bankes and alle þe grunde,
And ek þar heren filde and stunde.
Arthur þan was forth smitten in ire;
He hefe his swerde with gret desire.
Þe geante in þe front he smate,
Þat sone ouerran þe blode so hate
His eghien, þat he might haf na sight
Agains qwam þat he suld fight.
Bot dedewonde certes was it nane,
Þof his face was blode ouergaine.
On Arthur euer þis geant miste;
Qwar him to toche, blind, he ne wiste.
Bot betwin þam he put his mace
ffra dedeswonde to defende his face.
In curs of blode he, so made blinde,
Griseli and als A hunde he grinde.
On arthur egrer þan he was are
He ran in lede of A wilde bare.

Gripande on him þat him enchases
Þe kyng to him so he enbraces.
Bi þe midel he titte arthur on knes;
Beduer and caie bihaldes and ses.
Arthur revigourde vp of new;
He tok to him strenȝ and vertu,
Þe geantes handes he ascaped out;
Of him hade he þan na mar dout.
ffra he out of his handes wan,
About him with his swerd he ran,
Now her, now þar, euer on him dang;
Bot forto felle he was fulstrang:
Yia, euer he stod als A gret ake.
Arthur him gaf fulmany A strak,
And euer in þat he yiemede him wele
ffra reching of his maceuele,
Sumquile bifor, sumquile bihinde:
His fa wiste neuer qwar him to finde.
Þe blode was so ouercomen his eghien,
Þe mar sorow him was to dreghien.
Arthur þarfor wald neuer reste
To þe dedewonde wer on him feste.
His swerd he preste into his hiede,
And so þe life sone he him reuede.
Þe harnes out sprang þe harnepan;
Rudelie to rare so he bigan.

With griseli sounde so at þe laste,
Als A grete ake þoru windes blaste,
Louse rifen vp so bi þe rotes,
Þis geante fel doune bifor his fotes.
Þe kyng þan fulsone he logh,
And at þis fal mad gam anogh.
He bade beduer þe hied of smite,
Of him þe contre for to A quite;
Gife it ane of þar swaines he moste
ffor to ber it sone to þe oste
Als for A wondering þar to be
To alle þe peple þat it suld se.

Arthur, þe kyng, was noȝ aferd
To feght with rictor for his berde.

In arthur daies, sumquil bifor,
Qwen he ouercome þe geant rictor,
Qwen he faght with rictor so stoute
And slogh him in araues monte,
He saide he suld, if tid wald sua,
Of mar strenȝ fer A geante sla.
Þis geant r[i]ctor slogh kinges fele;
Na prince, ne king might with him dele.
Arthur king to fighting he calde,
ffight with him nedelinges he salde.
Þis rictor ful gret pride he hade:
A furrur pane certes he him made
Of kynges berdes, þe qwilk he slogh;
And siþen fra þam þar berdes he flogh.
He scrudede him in A furrur pane
Of kinges berdes qwilk he had slane.

Yia, alle þe kinges About him aerdes
Had he slane and flane þar berdes.
To kyng arthur þar for he sent
And bad him als in comandement
ffla his berde with deligens
And send it flane to his presens.
And als he was of maste louinges,
Kyng renonde ouer oþer kinges
And of kynges alle þe beste to halde,
Honur his berde ouer oþer he walde,
His berd ouer oþer forto be beste;
In his pilche it sulde be a dreste.
And if þat Arthur wald noght sua
At his bidyng his berde sone fla,
Nedelinges him and him biod fight,
Win oþer berde lok queþer might.
So fight to gider suld he and he
His berde to fla ouercomen sulde be.
Arthur, þe kyng, was noght aferde
To fight with rictor for his berde.
He and he, lo, same þai mete;
Bodi to bodi sone samen þai sette.
In Araues mont, lo, þai bigin
To proue queþer oþer berde salle win.
fful lang þai faght fra þai bigan;
Bot Arthur certes þe mastrie wan.

Rictores berde awaie he schar,
And a waie with him he it bar.
And alle he wan vnto his hande,
Alle þinges þat he with rictor fande.
So soght he to þe monte araue
Pris to win, his berde to saue.
Now afterwarde, so he had hight,
With Astalwardher to sight
He fightes, so we bifore haf talde,
With þis geant so rude and balde
Þat þus rauiste þe maiden childe
And in his lustes her corse so vilde,
So it es talde A nogh biforn.
And after þe toþer night, at morn,
Þai come A gaine vnto þar tentes
And to þe oste þe hiede presentes.
Bifor alle folk þis hied þai bring
To schewe it þam als in wondering.
Alle thrang to se, baȝ hegh and lagh;
So rude a hiede neuer þai sagh.
And alle þai yiald thank and louing
ffor þis dede to arthur þe kyng,
Þat hade deliuerde þe contre
Of slik an vnfele wight to se.
And kyng hoel, qwen þis he ses,
ffor þe case tidde so to his nes
Murnyng and sorow he hade in herte;
And in þat ilke montaine he gerte
Ouer his corse a kirk edifie,
Þar in to be fele monkes worthie

And of her name þe name to halde:
Elenes tumbe þe kirke þai calde.
Þat name it haldes, þe soth to saie,
In þe contre vnto þis daie.

Her was þe nece of þe emperours sclane,
Quintiliane, for soth, þe man of nayme.

Comen wer alle kynges and princes,
Ereles and dukes of fer prouinces.
Redie and boune sone þai þam made;
Towardes þe emperour þai rade
To þe cite augustudoune,
Qwar þe emperour of grete renoune
Was comen vnto with ostes so grete,
Arthur and his folk for to threte.
Arthur he come to albes flode,
Lo, spies on alle sides him yiolde.
Þoru spies fele and messangers
Arthur ful sone tiþandes he hers
Þat þe emperour fulner biside
His tentes raisede and edifide.
And þe emperour, so þai saide,
So grete a oste he hade puruaide,
Anens his power fulwel þam þught
ffight with þam arthur ne mught.
Þerof arthur was naþing flaide,
Bot baldeli him agains þam graide.

He swar he sulde þam againe stande
And putte þam sone out of his lande.
On þe flodes bankes endelang þe coste
He raisede þe tentes of his oste,
Qwar he might haf his ostes so fre
And fre issue, if nede wald be,
Þam self to safe þar tentes within
If nede stode so to begin.
Twa dukes þan tok þe kyng arthur:
Boson of Wath, man of honur,
Of carnothene þe duk gerin.
And ek walwan, his awne cosine,
To lucius tiberion he adreste
Him to entice vnto þe beste,
To bide him als with wordes fair
In to his awane contre repair
And duel na langre to mak distance
Within his contre of france,
Oþer, sen þai logede so neghum,
On þe nexte daie in felde to cum
ffor to proue þar in armes dight
Qweþer in france suld haf mar right.
Of arthures curte alle þe yiouthede
Of þe romains couaitede dede.
Þai com and enticede walwane
And him bisoght welner ilkane

Sumkins distance he sulde bigin
Þe emperours tentes within.
Occasion so haf þai might
With þe romains sone for to fight.
Þis thre legates of grete honour
Paste to lucius, þe emperour.
Þai bade him þoru arthur, þe kyng,
Nalangre he suld make his duelling
So neghim france, bot þeþen turne
Vnto his awne forto sogeurne,
Oþer on þe morn nalangre to targe
Cum in to þe feldes so large,
To proue þar right stande to þar chance:
Þat winnes þe felde, he broukes wele france.
Qwen lucius slik wordes herde,
To þe messangers he ansuerde:
Paste of þase landes he ne walde,
Bot als his awne propre þam halde.
Stille þar to dwelle qwa suld him werne,
His awne contre for to gouerne?
Of þe emperours knightes come ane,
His awne cosine quintilliane;
He saide britons in euerilke place
Habundes in rosing and manace
Bifor mar þan þai worthi ere
Pruesse to win, armes to bere.
Þar wok in rosing mar it esse
Þan in prouing of hardinesse.

Walwan herd þis, he bicom wraȝ;
His swerde out he drogh welraȝ.
He lette for na man þat bar state;
Quintilianes hiede he of smate,
And with his fers astife in þatte
ffra þam vnto þar horses þai gatte.
Romaines þis ses, nalangre to mote,
Bot sum on horse, and sum of fote
On þis legates ensuede þai
To wrek þat vtrage don þat daie.
Þai suar þoru fors þai suld noȝ blin,
To wreked wer þe emperour cosin.
Bot gerin, þe duk carnothene,
On horse fleande ner tane was sene.
Ane of romains toche him bigan;
Sodanlie, lo, he turnede him þan.
His sper to him he bar with fors,
Smate him þoru amiddewarde þe cors.
He smat him þoru his armes þat stunde
And bar him doune vnto þe gru[n]de.
Boson of wath he sagh þis dede
Carnothes duk so gudlie spede;
Enwie als in his hert he þoght;
Of prowes yitte he had doun noȝ.
He turnede his horse to þe first he mette;
His lance þoru out his gorge he sette;
Dede wonde he gaf him so fulsmerte;
Parte with his horse so he him gerte.

100

In þat marcelle mutu so balde
Quintilianes dede wrek he walde.
Behinde he comes opon walwan,
He walde him haf rested and tane.
Bot walwan certes þar with scurnes
And againe to him he turnes,
A dint opon him þar to [qw]elme:
He smate þoru armurs with þe helme
With his swerde, so na þing leuede,
ffra þe breste clene of þe heuede.
He bade þan to mutu marcelle
Þat sone he sulde him hie to helle
And telle vnto quintiliane
Qwam he within þe tentes had slane:
“Britons abundes on þis maner
With manaces and rosinges þis yiere.”
Walwan ba[d] to his fers ilkane
Þat ilkan of þam sulde sla a romane.
And alle þai turnede þam to [þar] fas;
To do his wille þai þoght solas.
Þai walde neuer stind to die in paine,
To ilkane of þam A romaine had slaine.
Romains on folghiede with lances and spers,
Swerdes and sparthes and alkins gers.
On þe britons ful herd smat þai;
Ane of þam might þai noȝ restai,
Ne vnhorse, ne ek bring to grunde.
Þar happe was noȝ in feld þat stunde.

101

Arthur knyghtes com sex thousand
Son helpe was to þar dukes nerhand.

Sex thousande britons, redi graide,
Wer in a wodde for þam puruaide.
Of arthures oste bachelers gode
Þar dukes suld cum þai vnderstode;
Biside þat wode, so þai þam hight,
Þai trowede þai suld be done to flight.
Agains þam cum was þar assent,
In help of þam mak a buyssement.
Þai sagh þar dukes cum fleande þar,
And many romains about þam war.
Out of þis wode þai cum fulthik;
ffulsodanli on horse þai prik.
Þai smat þe horses with þar spurs
And kidde þam knightes of arthurs,
Bifor þar brestes sette þar schildes;
With lode crie þai tok þe feldes.
Þe romains sone, lo, doune þai bare,
ffel þam to grunde þai wald noȝ spare;
Þai made þam sone þe felde forsak,
Þai slogh alle þase þai might ouertak.
Of romains was talde þis deshonour
To petrion þe senatour.
In help he hiede him of romains;
He comes sone þe britons agains
With ten thousandes of men and ma,
He faght in felde with willes thra.

102

Britons againe to wode he drafe,
Þar þai hade bene, recete to hafe.
Withouten losing was he noght:
He loste wele fele of þase he broght.
Þis britons fledde now her, now þar
Within þis wode qware stedde þai war.
Þai held þam als in stedes strait;
Romains to der þai spie and waite.
Þai waitede and spiede þar pointes anogh
ffel of þe romains suo þai slogh.
Ridek, nun son, lo, he come þen
In þar help with fife thousand men.
Þai stande againe, nou help þai haf,
Þat suo sumtides bifor bak gaf.
Þai þat bifor þe feld werpiste
Now to þar fas þai turne þe briste.
Ilkane of þam fulma[n]y gret st[r]akes
Anens his famen baȝ gifes and takes.
Romains manli againe þam stande,
Neghim þai fight redie at hande,
Sumquil vnder, and sumquile ouer,
Sumquile fle, sumquile recouer.
Britons desirede with fulgret wille
In felde to haf fightyng þar fille.
Þai made na fors qua tint, qua wonen,
ffra þai to fight had bigonen.

103

Þe romains wiselier þai faght,
Þai dide so perion þam taght.
So agode ledesman þam taght he
Sumquile to stande, sumquile to fle.
And so þai gatte grete auantage,
And to britons dide gret damage.

Petrion was scomfet, þe senatur,
And broght prisoner vnto arthur.

Boson of wath bihaldes and ses
Wiselie þar famen standes and fles.
ffele of britons to him he calde
Of þe hardieste men qwilk he walde.
He saide to þam in schorte consaile:
“Arthur wate noȝ of þis batale.
We þis bigan on our enprise.
Strenȝful our famen on vs rise.
ffor þi wirk we þis daie manlie,
Þat doune ne ga noght our partie.
Tak we god herte amanges vs alle
Þis þing bigone noȝ doune falle.
ffor if we fale þis daies in fightes,
We salle lose fele of our gode knightes
And mak our kyng vnto vs wraȝ,
Til vs and ours damage and scaȝ,
Þe kynges folk lose agains his wille
And bring him self in gret perille.
Of hardinese luk now yie be
And on yion romains folghies me.

104

Bes balde and hardi amanges yow,
Þoru out þar oste ensues me now.
On alle yion romains swiȝ ȝe ride,
And if chance wil now for vs tide,
Perion sal we sla oþer tak
Oþer ells him do þe feld forsak.
Þar horses with þar spurs þai smat,
And on þar fas þai made þam gat.
Þai parted þar enemes cheltron,
And þoru þai rade to petrion.
Boson of wath with willes frek
Petrion he enbracede be þe n[ek].
So harde bi nekes same feste þaie,
With him he rusede to þe claie.
Þe romains sagh, sone þai to ran
ffor to succour þar ladesman.
Ek þe britons ran þam opon
Als in helpe of þe duk boson.
fful hard fighting þat tim was sene,
ffel wonded and slane þam bituene.
Þar was gret noise and fulgret crie
Þar lord to helpe þai sagh þar lie.
Aiþer folk on oþer þai laid on faste
Euer quils any wapen might laste.
Many man slane, gifen many A wonde,
Or þai war raside fra þe grunde.

105

Þar might men se in þat stance
Qwa cuȝ not spere, qwa cuȝ not lance,
Qwa cuȝ note swerde, qwa cuȝ note darte.
ffel men þai felle on aiþer parte.
Britons sagh þis with willes quik;
On þe romains þai come ful thik.
In thik batals, so many þai er,
Þe romains sone doune þai ber.
And so þoru grete strenȝ of fight
Boson þai raisede, þe doghti knight.
Petrion þai sesede in to þar handes
And feld doune alle bifor þam standes.
Romains sagh þar ladesman loste,
Þan fled þe felde nedelinges þai moste.
Þe britons sagh how þai gaf bak,
Wel many of þar heides þai brak.
And wel harde after þam þai schoke,
And many of þar grettest þai toke.
ffele þai felde and to grund broght,
fful mikel sorow on þam þai wroght.
Þai spoilede of þase þai slogh;
Þai wan gudes and armours anogh.
Qwen þai wer alle þis periles paste,
Againe þai turned þam at þe laste,
And many of þam hamwarde bringes
Captifes, armurs, and riche spolinges.

106

Þai cum again vnto þar tentes
And sone to arthur kyng presentes
Perion cocos, oþer many manyane
Captifes þai in bataile had tane.
With ioie and mirth of herte welson
Þai tald him alle how þai had don.
Arthur þam thanked of þar dedes;
Wele he hight yield þam þar medes.
He hight þam gret honur and rent
ffor þai suo wroght in his absent.
Eke þar honours he suld noȝ targe,
Gife þam rentes and landes large,
Þam and alle þaires for to amende,
And þe captife[s] to gaiol sende.
In straite gaiol haf þam he wald.
Sum of his knightes to him he calde.
He bade þam arelie on þe morn
Alle þase captifes broght him forn;
To paris þai suld þam spede
And þase captifes with þam to lede,
Biken þam, þar yiemede to be,
To þe wardains of þe cite,
Til þai of him hade oþer worde sente.
He gaf alsua his comandement
To duk cador and beduere,
Þat was his awne boteler,

107

And til oþer dukes tua,
Borelle and duk richer alsua.
He bad þis four dukes of state
Wend with þam wel fer ongate.
Þis four salle wend with þar routh,
To þai wer paste alle maner of douth.
Of þe romains þai wald do lete
With chance þe passage for to fette.
Þis four ongatwarde with þam yiode
With folk of armes, many and gode.

Þe presoners was sent, þe soth to say,
Vnto parysch be vmset way.

Wele vnderstode þe romains þis
Þai suld be ledde vnto paris,
And þe emperour so vnderstandes.
Of men he bade fiftene thousandes,
Vnto þar rightes paraild and dight,
Suld passe bifor þam þat ilke night,
In certaine stedde with þam to mete
Þer for to with sette þam þe strete,
Vnwarnede fight on þe britons,
Deliuer þar folk of þar presens:
Witrion formast of ho[n]ours,
Catelle, caruk, quint senatours,
Euander, þe kyng of sirie,
And sertor, þe kyng of libie,

108

To lede þis folk with willes thra,
ffour senatours and kynges twa,
Þis sex to gouern and susten
Þe numbred folk thousand fifeten.
Þe night bifor passe forth þai sale;
Þai mad þar buyssement in a dale.
fful priueli þar stil þai duelde;
Þe britons commyng þai bihelde.
On þe morn, qwen it was daie,
Þe britons come bi þe same waie
With þar captifes in þar keping.
Of þe buyssement þai þoght naþing.
To þe stedde þai come; na þing þai wiste
Þar famen bifor þam stabliste.
Of þase dales romains comes out
And fightes on þam with willes stout.
Þe britons oste fulraȝ þai partede
And sodainelie þai þam reuertede.
Þe britons ses þam occupede
And sonderstrewede; so þam stod nede,
Manlie sone þai þam resoste
And stode againe þe romains oste.
Sum with þar captifes þai sette
And sum againe þar famen plette.

109

Duk richer and beduer with him
Þai lefte with þar captifes þat tim
And many A man with þam to haf,
Þar captifes þan to yieme and saf.
Cador, þe duk of cornewaile,
Duk borelle with him sette to bataile.
Romains withouten order þai war
On britons fightand now her, now þar.
Of wardes settyng na þing þai roght;
On þe britons wel harde þai soght,
And many of þam þai felde and slogh,
Or þai in to gud ordre drogh.
Sua þe britons welner þai stint,
And mikel of þar beste folk þai tint.
ffoulie welner þe feld þai lefte
And þar captifes bifra þam refte,
ffor qui þai might nalangre dure,
Bot sone þar come helpe and succure.
Gwitarde, þe duk of poiters,
Of þis gile þat night he hers.
Hastife to þat enprise he soght,
Thre thousande men with him he broght.
In his comyng reuigurd þar herte;
Þai turnede to fight to willes smerte.

110

Dintes and wondes þai againe yialde,
Qwilk þai bifor tok many falde.
Bot fra þai firste mette at morn,
Wel fele of þar beste men wer lorn.
Þai loste þe nobleste knight of france:
Borelle, þe duk of conomance.
He mette in feld and faght manlie
With euander, kyng of sirie.
Euander þoru þe gorge him bare;
He yialde þe gaste, he lifed na mar.
Þai loste four knightes, bald and stout:
Ane hirelgas of perimont;
Anoþer was maurice cardorcane;
Alduc of tintagol was slane;
Þe fourte was her, hider son,
Þe beste knight of his nacion.
Þase daise it was na man so wise
Cuth ches þe noblest knightes of þise.
Þarfor britons fel in despaire,
Welner of feld for to repaire.
Bot yitte at grete mischef þai duelde,
And þar captifes wel faste þai helde.
Þe romains sagh þam selfe adredde,
Þai lefte þe felde arghlie and fledde.
Vnto þar tentes wel fele fledde hame,
How þai had farne to schew with schame.

111

Þe britons sagh þam so rebuyt;
On þam þai made ful hard ensuyt.
Þai folghiede þam þat lefte þe felde;
Dede wondes to þam þa[i] delde.
To felle and sla þai wald neuer reste,
To þai haf geten sum of þe beste.
Of sirie þai tok þe kyng euandre;
Þai wald him thole naferer to wandre.
Witrion and þe duk catelle
Þis thre with oþer dide þai duelle.
Alle þe remeland ouer tak þai might
Þai sparede nane bot sloȝ doun right.
Qwen þai hade wone þe victorie,
Of romains tane þe degrie,
To paris þe captifes þai present,
Þai þase with quilk þai first war sent.
To kyng arthur þai passede againe,
How þai had spede scheu him certaine;
How þai had farne þai tald þe kyng,
And neu presons to him þai bring.
Gode spair to hete him þai bigin
Of alle þe victorie to win,
Sen þa[i] in feld þat wer so fone
On þar famen so wele had done.

112

Arthur son her ordance maid he
Alle his bataills as þai suld be.

Tiþandes comes to tiberion
Lucius, þat taken was wetrion,
Catel, and þe kyng euander;
His side essones it stode þe wer.
In his curage als for þis case
Sorow and þoght his hert ouergase.
He smate in many þoghtes and ser,
Now her, now þar, in mikil wer,
And in fulgret dout and dredde
Agains arthur how for to spedde,
Qweþer he suld with arthur fight,
So he had bigone and tight,
Oþer for to remu mak him boune
Into þe cite augustudoune,
Þar to abide helpe and succour
Of leon, þe toþer emperour.
Þase daies of þe dignite of rome,
Alle þis midelerde to haf in dome,
Twa emperours þai wer stableste
ffor to mainten þe þing pupliste,
Alle landes to halde þoru þer pouste
In truage to romes dignite.
Lo, þis emperour lucius,
Þat agains arthur bigan þus,
Þat had with him kinges so fele,
With arthur dredde he had to dele.
To him wer comen kynges sextene,
Þe strenghfuleste in þis warld sene;

113

Alle þe maste strenȝ of þis midelerde
Of arthur alle þai wer aferde.
ffor dredde lucius na better kneu
Bot þe nexte night for to remu
With alle þe ostes to þe cite;
Lengias certes so entrede he.
Arthur of þis aknawen he was
He was remeued to lengias.
Þat night he wald passe him biforn
Qwar he suld passe forth of þe morn.
Arthur þat night forth he rides,
Lefte þe cite on his lefte sides.
With alle his ostes, sum dele or daie,
He come into A large valaie,
Qwar þe emperour passe forth he salde.
Siesia certes þe vale es calde.
Þar arthur son ordaines he
Alle his batails how þai suld be.
Of claudocestre þe duk morwi[d]
With his legion he sette þat tide
Withouten alle batails for to hofe,
His hardinese sum tides to profe,
Opon to cum, qwen tide maste nede,
Als in bak her fighting to bede.
Alle þe oþer he sette in batals seuen,
Ouer ilkane gude wardains to neuen,

114

In ilke bataile fife thousand men
ffife vndreth and fife siþes ten.
And alle þai wer in armes dight,
Sette and lerede qwat gise to fight.
Of batails stabliste A partie
Was on horse in cheuailrie;
Anoþer parti sette in bataele
Of fote men wer ordainede fulwele.
Amanges þam was þis comandement:
Qwiles þe fotemen to fight assent,
Horse folk þai sulde oncum so boune
Þar enemies oste for to ber doune.
ffote mennes bataile, þe soth to saine,
Was sette in þar gise of britaine
With right horne and with lefte to pare,
ffulthik sette, stabliste four scyuar.
Of þis four to þe firste bataile
Was cador þe duk of cornewaile,
Auginsel, kyng of albanie,
Baȝ doghti knightes of cheualrie:
Þe tane for sette at þe right horn,
Þe toþer þe lefte corner biforn.
At anoþer wer sette alsua
Of þe noblest oþer dukes tua:
Gerin, þe duk of carnothene,
And boson, þe duk richedene,

115

Þat now amanges aelde and yiong
Oxenforth hatte in saxon tong.
To yieme þe thride ek vndertakes
Aschil, þe noble kyng of dakes,
And loth, þe kyng of norwaie.
And to þe fourte was assignede þat daie
Hoel of amorik þe tane,
And þe kynges cosin walwane.
After þase four oþer four bihinde
Wer stabliste on þe beste gise to finde:
To ane assigned beduer and caie;
Þe kinges selfe ministres wer þaie.
And til anoþer was sette bifor
Holden, þe duk of riktenor,
And gwitarde, þe duk of poiters.
To þe thridde worthi bachelers:
Of legecestre þe duk iugen,
Þat stat bar grete amanges men,
Of dorcestre duk ionathal.
And of [c]aicestre þe duk cursal
Of þe ferde þe yieming he hade
With vrbegen, þe duk of bade.
Arthur chese him a legion,
Of golde bifor him a dragon.
Þis dragon of golde, so riche and fair,
Was born bifor him in þe air,

116

Þe qwilk he vsede als for baner,
Þat alle þe folk þat wondede wer
Oþer werie in place for foghten
Might dragh þar to qwen þam þoghten,
If nede stode and þam þar to draf
Leche and recette þar for to haf.
In arthurs legion þat tim,
Qwilk his selfe þan hade tane to him,
Sex thousande men, þe number to se,
Sex vndreȝ sexti and twis thre.

Her maid arthur, as ȝe may her,
A gret sermond to his men seir.

Now er alle arthur knightes
Sette and batailde vnto þar rightes.
Þar famen batailde abide þaie.
Arthur þis wordes biginnes to saie:
“Yie britons, myn familieres,
Myne derlinges and myne bachelers!
Trauailde ȝe haf bifor þis qwile
In grete honour to britaines hile.
Yie haf it made lauedie to be
Als ouer kyngdoms ten siþes thre.
And þat I thank yowr grete prowes;
Anogh in dedes certes prouede it es.
Bot amanges yow fife yier biforn
Vsing of armes welner was lorn.

117

Of armes fife yiere yie haf had pes;
Armes of vs now we se encres.
Romains begin on vs to fight;
Þai hafe in wille refe vs our right.
Þai bigin in hautes and pride
On þe landes we wan forto ride.
ffra vs þai wille haf þe emprise
And tak fra vs aunciene franchise.
On yow þai haf bigon bataile;
Bot of þar purpas yitte þai faile.
To felde þai cum fer ma þan yie,
And yie þam made þe felde to fle.
In þis cite recetted er þai
And passe þai salle bi þis valai
To augustunes cite.
Bot here þai sal desturbance se.
Her salle yie kepe þam in þis place,
Þam als bestes for to enchace.
Naþing forsoȝ þai er biþoght
How bifor þam we hider haf soght.
Þis kynges out of þe [e]ste partise
Þai wene to finde in vs faintise.
Þai wene to finde vs hidel and slaw
Our franchis to defende þat thraw.
Þai wil vs bring in to seruage
And do vs yielde to þam truage.

118

Qweþer þai naþing to herte takes
Qwat batals we had with þe dakes,
How we faght with þe northwegiens
And with so fele dukes galliens,
How yie þam broght to my pouste
Yow out of þar lordschipe to be?
Þoru yow fele kinges and dukes assentes
Obeisse to hald my comandementes,
Þoru yow þe lordes of landes fele
Er suorn to be my bachelers lele.
Claime sal we þe cite of rome,
Do þe romains stande til our dome.
Tak sal we certes romes cite
In our possession for to be;
And so plente of siluer and golde,
Of alkins riches haf we wolde.
Palaise, toures, castels, cites,
Riche honours, and large contres,
Alle salle yie haf plente to wille,
Alle your desires for to fulfille.”
Þe kyng þus saide in þar present
And alle þai criede with hal assent
Þat alle þai wer in wille and rede
ffor him in felde to suffer dede.
Yia, alle þai sall þe dede tak
Ore, qwils he lifes, þe feld forsak.

119

Sermond to his pepyll maid lucius
And ordand his batails in legions þus.

Neulinges lucius tiberion ses
And knawes how arthur occupes
With his ostes bi night þe vale
Qwar forth with his folkes passe he sale.
To þe cite he walde haf fledde;
Bot now arthur him has so stedde
With him to fight in feldes plaine,
Þat he ne might na waies turne againe,
Bot forth nedelinges to fight halde.
Kynges and dukes to him he calde.
Dout and dredde sone he forsok,
And hardinese to him he tok.
So he bigan, he saide þat daie,
Passe forth he wald þe same valaie,
So he bifor þat tide puruaide.
And to þam alle þise wordes he saide:
“Honurable faders, yie lordings,
Beste of þis warld, dukes and kyngs,
Als of emprise chosen þe beste
Of alle kyngdoms este oþer weste!
Yie wate alle kynges in þis warld won
To rome salle make subgection.
Yowr antecessours, so noble and gode,
fful hardelie þai schede þar blode,

120

Þe empir of rome for to maintene.
Of þar prowes ensample yie sene;
Þai lefte ensample of prowesse,
Of cheualrie, of hardinesse,
To yow, þat er þar successours,
ffor to susten þe same honours.
Þoru gifte of godde þai wroght so wele,
So þai hade bene men immortele.
Þoru godde þai wer so worthi þan
Þat alle þis warld to rome þai wan.
Goddes wille was þai so sulde do,
Elles might þai neuer haf comen þarto,
Sen your faders þat was bifor yow
Wer of so gret noblaie and prow,
Þat alle þis warld spekes and redes
Of þe hardinese of þar dedes
And of þe so gret seignorie
Þai wan and gate þoru cheuailrie,
Alle landes in erde in pes to be
Als subgettes to þe empires pouste.
Naþing of yow now I desire
Bot to maintene þe same empir.
Stalwarthlie yie stande þis daie,
ffightes on your fas in gude araie,

121

Þat rise againe yow [has] bigonen,
Denies þat your faders has wo[n]en!
Þis daie of þam we salle haf dede;
To fight on þam haf we na drede.
Ne hafes noght in þoght of me
Þat I suld wende to any cite
Þar in vs alle for to recete,
To fight with þam dr[e]dde suld me lette.
Bot certes I dide þis for a traine,
Out of þar strenȝ bring þam to plaine,
Qwar I might beste withouten targing
Þam vnto our auanteg bring.
Þof þai now seme redie batailde,
Alle þis night þai haf trauailde,
And tharnede reste and night slepe.
We sale þam now sla doune als schepe.
ffight we on þam, þof þai be warnede,
Þat weri er and þar reste tharnede,
Lighelie we sal þam now ouergane:
Of armes we er twa agains ane.
We haf þe heght and þai þe lagh,
To fight on þam haf yie nane agh!
Descendande doun on þam we sale
And ruse þam doun in to þe dale.
To fight on þam we salle bigin;
Na dout we salle þe maistrie win.

122

Stande we manlie þe firste stours,
Witte yie, forsoȝ þe felde bes ours.
ffor þai þat firste stand wel biginnis,
fful ofte es sene, þe bataile winnes.”
Qwen tiberion lucius
Bifor þam alle hade saide þus,
Alle of ane assent þai ware,
His willes to do, yia, heght and suare.
Þai helde up hende to life and die
And armede þam ful hastelie.
And armed sua swiȝ fra lengias
Towardes þe valai yierin þai passe,
Qwar arthur was fulwele þai wiste
And his ostes agains þam stabliste.
Þar þai ordainede tuelfe bateles;
Þar dukes and knightes in tuelfe he deles.
Þar folkes on fote to þam þai do,
So þe gise of rome assentes þarto.
In ilke bateile armed to þe rightes
Wer sexti and sex thousande knightes
And sex vndreȝ with sex to sene,
So þar legion wald contene.
To ilke bataile gret dukes þai gaf,
Amanges þam þar lades men to haf,
To sette þam auantage and sleght
How beste on þar famen to fight.

123

To ane þai gaf þam to ordaine
Al[i]phatim, þe kyng of hispaine,
Lucius catelle, so quaint of artes.
To þe toþer was gifen þe kyng of partes,
Hirtes, and ek to him þat tide
Þe senatour maurice lepide.
To þe thride was sette gaie metelle,
Þe senatour, and with him to duel
Bokke, þe doghtie kyng of medes.
And to þe fourt, so men redes,
Of libie, þe noble kyng sertor,
Quint and milue, þe senatour.
Þis four in þe wainwarde stabliste
Wer batalde in þe formaste briste.
And oþer four at þe bake of þase:
ffirste of egipe þe kyng pandrase,
And at þe toþer for to maintene
Was serses kyng ituriene.
And at þe thridde was politene
Kyng of frigie, doghtie and kene.
To þe ferde was gifen a knight doghtie,
Teucer, þe kyng of bithinie.
And after þis swede oþer tuis twa.
Þai gife vnto þe firste of þa
Quint carukes, senatour sene,

124

And to anoþer beline hostiene;
Sulpice subdukel to þe thridde,
Marice siluan þe ferde amidde;
His selfe to teche now her, now þare.
And bifor him forsoȝ þai bare
Ane egle of golde, so riche and fair,
Þe folk þarto for to repair,
Þat wondede wer, if nede þam stode,
Þar to haf lech and recette gode.

Her come þe romans with gret bost
And brake opon þe brittans ost.

Erels, dukes on aiþer side dight,
Alle hofede in feld in armes bright.
In þar batails comes þe romains,
Þe britons batailde þam agains.
Þe sounde biginnes of trumpes and bemes
Als in felde to kynges it semes.
Þat ilke bataile formaste it plette
Of þe romains, in fight to sette,
Qwilk kyng of hispaine, aliphatim,
And lucius catelle hade with him.
Þai sette and fightes on þe batele
Qwar was of scoce kyng augusele
With þe noble kyng of cornewaile;
Harde þai gainestande þar bataile.

125

Againe þai stode so harde and frek,
Þai might nanewais on þam brek.
Als þai so egre onsoght þan,
Anoþer bataile on þam ran,
Qwilk boson and gerin gouernde;
Þai faght harde so þai wer lernde.
Of cheualrie þoru curse sodaine
Þar bataile þai it brak in plaine.
Þar cheltron certes so þai partede,
And þar knightes sondri reuertede.
And on anoþer þai sette and stedde,
Qwilk þe kyng of parthes ledde
Opon þe bataile þat was so stark
Qwar aschil was, kyng of danmark.
Na duelling langer; alle sette to þan,
Bataile to oþer, man to man,
Knight to knight, with sper and lance,
Noght bot ilke man stande to his chance.
Þis batals þai faght albidene;
Sorowful slaghter þar was to sene.
Alle þe batails wer same smiten;
Qwarto suld worde, naman miȝ witen;
ffor aiþer side certes faght so manlie.
Loud noise þar was with griseli crie,
Spers and lances, and swerdes brak;
Iern ilke man oþer heide to crak.

126

Ilkeman gaf oþer þe dedes wonde;
ffulthik þai fel dede on þe gronde:
Sum doune þe fete, sum doune þe hiede;
So ilkman oþer þe life reuede.
Sone schedde to se so mikel blode,
Þe curs it ran so watres flode.
Bot þe firste harmes to se and knaw
Þe britons had durand lang thraw.
ffor slane was þe duk beduere,
Þat in arthures curt was so dere;
And caie dede wondes he þar tok;
Yitte for to fight he ne forsok.
Beduer þat daie, so chance him ledes,
He mette with bokke, þe kyng of medes.
Smitten þoru he was with þe kynges spere;
He fel amanges enemies here.
Caie com; he wald him wenge and wrek
And on þe medes bigan to brek.
Þe medes him sone so environde;
In felde þai gaf him dedes wonde.
Bot yitte he als a doghtie knight
Openede þe waie þoru fors of fight.
Þe britons m[e]n, so harde ensude
ffra alle þe medes multitude,

127

Beduers cors þai tok vp þan,
Awai fra þam þarwith þai wan.
Kyng of libie on come with þatte;
fful harde encontre of him þai gatte.
On his bataile nedelinges to done
fful harde þai faght alle bot a fone,
Þat fledde out with fulgret fors
With caie wondede and beduers cors.
To þe dragon of gold þai fledde,
Griȝ and lich haf in þat stedde.
Beduers cors þai schewed fulyar,
And þe duk caie wonded so sar.
Grete dole of þe folk estrusiene,
Þe cors of þar duk fra þai it sene.
ffele wondes on his cors þai bihelde,
Greselie þai criede and loude þai yielde,
And so grete dole amanges þam aues
Of caie þar lorde þe andegaues.
ffor so þai for him yielde and criede,
A manges þam alle welner he diede.
Þar plaintes þai ne wiste qware to tak;
Na space þai had lang sorow to mak.
Þar famen come opon þar hende,
Nede þam stode þar lifes defende.

128

The hardinese of herelgas,
Þat ner to beduer cosyn was.

Beduer cosin, hirelgas,
Grete sorow he hade þat þus it was.
Beduers dede certes wrek he moste,
Thre vndreȝ knightes to him asoste,
Amanges hundes so Awilde bare
On his famen bigan to fare.
Þoru sodaine curs of horse he rade,
Þoru his enemiese gate he him made.
To þe kyng of medes baner he soght;
Qwat tidde of him selfe he ne roght,
Bot he þat daie in felde so breme
Might wrek þe dede tid of his heme.
To þe stede he come, so forth he droȝ,
Þe kyng of medes in fight he slogh.
And þe slane cors he rauiste þar
And with his fers awaie it bare.
Þe dede cors he keste doune fulner
Biside þe cors of beduere.
On þe romains againe he rinnes.
With noise and crie, lo, he biginnes
Alle þe britons, his citisains,
To do fast fight on þe romains.
He bade þam fight and far als fire,
ffel doune þar fas with grete desire.
So he criede, so dide oþer chefetains,
Baldiste þar folk þar fas agains.

129

Ilkeman schewede how mikel he dught;
Þai faght also faste, so þai mught.
Naman þar wald for oþer stint,
Ilke man gaf oþer þe dedes dint.
So mikel folk of aiþer side felle,
Na men þam might number ne telle.
Þar fel withouten knightes and swains
Vn numbrede folk of þe romains.
Þat tim wer slane gret kinges twa
Of babiloine kyng misappa,
And aliphatim, kyng of hispaine.
And of þe senatours was slaine
Marius lepide and milfe and quint;
And fel oþer dukes with þam wer tint.
Þe kyng of rictenore þat tide
Was slane on þe britons side,
And of boloine leodegare
With fele knightes þat with þam ware.
Of britaine thre dukes wer slane:
Cursale of caicestre was ane,
Galauk of salesber so kene,
Þe thridde of bad duk vrbigene.
And alle þe folk þat þai thre ledde
So febliste war and so harde stedde,

130

Gaf bak and fledde for flebes slik
To þe britons of amorik,
Þat batailde wer in þe yiemyng
Of walwan and hoele þar kyng.
On þar famen þat bataile fars
So flame of fire þat na þing spars.
On þar fers fleande þai criede;
Amanges þam þai þam reliede.
Þoru fors againe, lo, þam þai haf
Þat on þam bifor þar fers draf.
In slaghter grete þai fel and sla
Alle þar fame[n] þat þai ouerta,
Þai felde and slogh þar wai to hald;
To þe emperour batail þai walde.
Þai cestede noght, þof þai lefte sum,
To þe emperours batale þai cum.
And of þar fers þai se it esse
Missechef grete and wrechednesse
And þe schenchip þai suffer and dour;
Þai hiede þam swiȝ þam to succour.
Or þai come, britons on þam faght,
And gret harmes on þam þai laght.
Chinmarok slane, duk of trigers,
With him twa thousandes of his fers,
Slane alsua noble lorddes wer thre,
Doghtie knightes of willes fre:

131

Rithomark and blocton wer slane,
Þe thride was lagwin of bodelane.
Slik prowes þis anens þar aelde
Þa[t] daie schewed fightande in þe felde,
Þof þai wer princes of kyngdoms,
Slik emprise of fone oþer comes.
Of þam þe fame it rase and sprang;
Or þai wer slane, þai faght fullang.
Þai fel qwar hoel and walwan rade
Or þai on fas hastinesse made.
Nane enemie smitten of þam so yiape
Þat with þe life þiþen might schape,
Wer it with swerde, wer it with spere;
Qwik might naman þar dintes bere.
Bot fra þai come into þe stoure
Of Lucius bataile, þe emperoure,
Þar wer þai in romains routh
So harde environde alle abouth,
Þat nede þam stode þar to duelle.
With þe forsaide duk dede þai felle.
Hoel and walwan noght a ferde—
Nane better knightes in þe midelerde—
Þai sagh þar fers forfoghten die;
In helpe of þam þai faght manlie.
Þai slogh alle doune now her, now þar;
Hegh ne lagh þai walde nan spar.

132

Þe tane bi þe ta parte he rides,
Þe toþer paste forth bi þe toþer sides.
Alle þam forstode doune þai smate;
To þe emperour þai made þam gate.
Walwan in alle þe strenȝ he might
Soght on lucius selfe to fight;
Als hardi knight, of witte so gode,
He laid on alle bifor him stode.
Of þe romains he felde and slogh
And euer to þe emperour he drogh.

Her faught þe emperour and walwayn.
fful gret st[r]akes was betwix þam.

Manlie alsua hoel he wroght,
fful many men to grunde he broght.
So thoner he fore, na wers was he
Þan walwan was in felde to se.
fful eger he maintende þe saut,
In him was sene nankins defaut.
ffaste he ondang and ofte was dongen
And ofte in pres of fight harde throngen.
To bihalde þe tane and þe toþer,
fful harde to deme qweþer better þan oþer.
Walwan he gatte, lo, þat he laitede;
He hade þat he in herte couaitede.

133

Naþing he stint bot held þe gate;
On þe emperour selfe vnto he smate.
Lucius, chosen man of maste moures,
Of his yiowehed was in his floures,
Vigrous and knight of hardinesse,
fful mikel renounde man of prowesse.
Naþing mar to desire he plight
Bot for to mette with slik a knight,
Þat might proue þoru cheualrie
How mikel in armes he wer worthie.
Qwen walwan come and to him sette,
Joieful he was þam same mette.
fforqwi he harde had of his name,
And of prowes he kneu his fame.
Lo, aiþer on oþer dintes þai dele,
Aiþer tok of oþer strakes so fele.
fful lang þai faght to gider in felde
And in defens sette doune þe schelde.
Noþer of þam for oþer stintes,
Bot aiþer gaf oþer ful gret dintes.
Aiþer on oþer with willes thra
Aiþer yiern trauaild oþer to sla.
Iqwils þai faght to gider so faste,
Romains recouerde at þe laste
And fulgretelie þan drifes and stons
Þe knightes of amorikes britons.

134

Þai com and helped þar emperour,
And fra walwan þai him succour.
Lo, romains slik recouerer haf,
Hoel and walwan bak þai draf;
On þam and þaires þai wer so hak,
Þat alle þe britons þai draf or brak.
So þai drafe þe britons againe,
On arthur selfe þai come sodaine.
Arthur he was fightand fulharde;
He ses his folk so drifen bakwarde;
With his bataile on þam he rinnes,
Ruse þam againe, lo, he biginnes.
He drogh his swerde, calde caliburn,
Manli againe þam for to turne.
ffulharde on þam his selfe, lo, fightes,
And gretelie he baldiste his knightes.
Opon his fas grete dintes he laide,
And with loude crie to his he saide:
“Qwat do yie men, qwi hofe yie sua,
Qwi thole yie your fas passe yow fra?
Laes on faste, gifes dinttes thik,
Suff[r]es nane of þam passe awai qwik!
Menes on qwat yie bifor has sene,
In how fele batails yie haf bene,
And euer haf yie had þe ouerhande
And won to me so many alande!
Yie haf me wone als doghti men
Of stra[n]ge kyngdomes thre siþes ten.

135

Haf menyng of your antecessours
Qwat harmes þai tok of þe emperours,
Qwat harmes romains dide yours and yow,
Qwen þai wer stalwarder þan now!
ffalselie þai gatte of þam truage,
In thraldum broght alle your linage.
Menes on your franchis to maintene!
Slas alle þase famen yie her sene!
In to þis contres comen er þaie
Your fredum to fordo for aie.
Hies yow swiȝ and laies on faste,
Þat þai yow in na thraldum caste!
ffelles and slaes so faste yie maie,
Lates noght ane ga qwik a waie!
Laies on faste! men, qwat do yie?
Lates nane of þam ga, qwik fra yow fle!”

Her was sclane in þat gret stour
Lucius of rome, þe emperour.

Þis wordes and oþer slik fele he criede,
And on his fas faste he him hiede.
He gaf þam many a dede wonde,
An[d] fast he felled þam to þe gronde.
He peled þam doune on alle sides,
Sua þat welner nane him abides.
Of horse, of man he might ouertak,
Ilke man he sloght doune at a strak.
ffra he biginnes, lo, neuer he stintes;
Na man might stande ane of his dintes;
Wer it with swerde, wer it with sper,
A dint of him might na man ber.

136

Ne þat daie nane knight ne swaine
Þat agains him durst fight againe.
It durste na knight in alle þat place
A bide and stande agains his face.
Þai fledde him als so men wer won
To fle fra ane cruelle lion,
Qwam grete hunger makes to sek
Qwat beste so comes to him to clek.
Þase arthur smate nane quik paste;
So he þam tochede, þai yield þe gaste.
Nankins armur might againe stande
Þe dintes gifen of arthurs hande,
Ne hauberk, helme, akedon, na plates;
Alle felde he doune stod in his gates.
It might noiþer helme, ne bacinette
Kyng arthurs dintes ne turne, ne lette,
Þat alle þase he tochede with his swerde
Þai yailde þe gaste, baȝ laude and lerde.
Lo, þe kyng of libie sertor
Chance him draf kyng arthur bifor,
And bithinies kyng, polithene:
Baȝ þar hiedes he smat of clene.
Baȝ þar hiedes, lo, of he smate;
To helle he bade þam tak þe gate.
Þe britons tokepe and bihelde
How kyng arthur his fas doune felde;
Mar hardinesse þai tok to þam,
On þe romains þe wai þai nam.

137

Þai ran alle neu in cheliron thik,
And on þar fas fulharde þai tik.
On þe ta partie fote men on rinnes
And faste to fight fulharde biginnes.
On oþer parte armede men on horse
Þe romains oste þai percede with forse
In harde enconter, lo, þe romains
fful egerlie þai stode agains.
And yitt lucius baldissing
Þan baldiste þam in alkins þing.
Þe same slaghter againe þai made
To þam britons bigon þai hade.
Aiþer folk oþer fulharde a sailde,
Aiþer oþer to sla fulharde trauailde.
In also grete fors, lo, þai fight þan
So frelie þai at morn bigan.
Ilkman on oþer his wapen werede,
Suaforth nane of þam oþer sparede.
Also faste, lo, þai fight to gider
So þai at morn wer comen þider.
Arthur on his folk criede ful loude,
To felle and sla he þam a woude.
And euer his selfe laide on and dang
And slogh his fas welfast amang.
With loude uoise he criede on ofte
And bade þam stande, halde þam on lofte.
He criede þai sulde alle manlie stande
And sla alle þai bifor þam fande.
And ek lucius tiberion
Bade þe romains sulde fast lai on.

138

And ofte siþes he ledde þam vnto
On þe britons prowesses to do.
ffra oste til oste he rade abouth;
To fight he bade þam haf na douth.
Britons, he criede, wer ner ouercomen,
Þar kyng sulde sone be slane or nomen.
And alle he bar doune with his lance
His famen drifen to him þoru chance.
Oþer els he slogh þam with his swerde
His famen in felde þat to him aperde.
He ne ceste neuer on his famen strik,
Qwen case to drafe so euerlik.
Þus aiþer side oþer doune felles,
ffra morn to euen þar was noght elles.
Sumquile þe britons better ware,
Sumquile welner þai might namare,
Sumquile romains victorie van,
Sumquile þai fledde welner ilkman.
Durande þe daie slik dolful fight,
So griselie slaghter to mannes sight.
Lang faght þai þus, bot at þe laste,
Qwen mikel of þe daie was paste,
Of claudocestre þe duk morwi[d]—
Alle þe daie he waitede and spiede
And helde him within þase montains;
Of him wiste na þing þe romains.
He had a legion with him
And ma he had reliede þat tim—

139

Lo, he comes out fra þe hilles;
He smites on þam with fulgret willes.
In sodaine curs he comes bihindes
And ruses on alle bifor him findes.
Þoru alle þar batails, lo, he brak,
Þai wiste noght he come at þar bak.
So freise and balde on þam he rade,
fful grete slaghter he on þam made.
Þan fel to gronde of diuerse landes
On þe romains side many thousandes.
On þe emperour fulharde þai yiede,
Within þam þai him occupede.
Knightes and swains fele on him thrang,
With swerdes and spers on him þai drang.
Ane of þam bare to him on wer;
Þoru þe corse he smat him with his sper.
Þe emperour slane, so dede he lise,
Britons þat daie þai wan þe prise.
Alle þai forfoghten in grete trauaile
At þe laste þai wan þe bataile.

He beried men þat war dede slo
Lys and þe romans w[iþ] þars also.

Romains sagh þar emperour felde;
ffightande þat tim nalangre þai duelde.
Þai fledde þe felde for dout and dredde
To safe þar lifes, so þam stode nede.
Sonder þai strewede, sum hider, sum þider,
So chance þam draf, þam wist [ne] quider,

140

Sum to þe wodes, sum to wastins,
Sum to þe cites, Ande to haldes winnes;
Sum to castells and tours þai fledde,
Sum to montains, fulsar a dredde.
Britons on þam gret suite þai mak;
Þai slogh alle þase þai mai ouertak.
Sum þai despoilede, and sum þai slogh;
Þai wroght on þam gret sorow anoȝ.
Sum of þe beste fra þai wer fonden
Þai nakenede and broȝ againe fast bonden.
On knes þai fel and haskede grace
Als of þar lifes to haf sum space.
Þai helde vp handes and mercie criede;
Truage for euer hask þai deniede,
Sen þar tides bifor so lang
Þai kneu þai hade it wone with wrang,
Þe britons aeldres bifor þam slane
And ofte þar gudes with wrang had tane.
Þai kneu worthie slik to tine,
Anogh schewed þoru pouste diuine.
Britons franchis, lo, quite þai claime,
ffor trespas done þam selfe to raime.
Þam selfe and alle þat þaires ware
To kyng arthur þai yialde fulyiar.
Of kinges and dukes vnslane þat daie
Alle wer restaide, nan wane awaie.

141

He sent þam strat gaioles vntille,
Of þam to he walde do his wille.
Kyng arthur þus þe maistrie wan.
Sone he made his comandement þan:
Alle þe corses of his folk slane lies
Sulde he gadrede fra þe enemies.
And qwen þai wer fra þase corses skilde,
To beriells haf þam he wilde
In kirke yiardes sum her, sum þar,
After þai of dignite war.
Sum he hade worthie delfen to be
In þe abbaes of þe contre,
Honurablie in þe monument
With kynges worschip in his present.
And beduer cors, his botelere,
He dide it lede in a riche bere
Worschiplie to baiones cite,
Þar with his aeldres delfen to be,
Qwilk beduer bifor þat tide
And his thridde fader had edifide.
Estrusiens with dole and caire
To þat cite his cors þai bare.
Þar in A kirke yiard fair and wide,
Of þe cite in þe suth side,
Þat honurable for him was graide,
In beriells riche his cors þai laide.
Duk caie, so greuelie wonded, þai haf,
Qwilk he hade wroght, to castelcaf.

142

Bot sone after within schort stondes
Caie diede for soth of þe same wondes.
His cors þai bar with dolful cher
To awude, þe cite maste ner,
Til ane abbaie of herimites,
Þat in þe sam wude habites.
With honur his cors þai laide in graue
So fele to þe duk of andegaue.
Duk holdines cors of rictenore,
So his beste frendes ordainde him for,
Was broght in to flandres contre
And dolfen in teruanes cite.
Þe corses of oþer dukes and princes,
Þat slane wer of diuerse prouinces,
Vnto þe contre abbais was born,
So kyng arthur ordainede þam forn.
Þe corses of his enemies ilkane,
So fele thousandes þar laie slane—
Kyng arthur þoru reuth and pite
He hade of so gret number to se—
To þe contre folk he bade him selfe
Anens þar state þai sulde þam delfe.
Of þe emperour cors, lucius,
Kyng arthur bade þai sulde do þus,
ffor his cors was of maste honours:
Ber it to romes senatours,
Of britaine haf it if þai walden;
Nane oþer truage þai sal be yialden.

143

Þe tratour mordred and þe qwen
With gret ost lett arthur landyn.

Arthur in þase contres he duelde,
To after winter þar he him helde.
To him he ceisede alle þe cites
And alle þe haldes and þe contres
And alle þe folk allobrogene
In his subgection albidene.
He ordainde him qwen somer come
With grete power to winde til rome.
Rome to haf his purpos þan,
Þe montes to passe, lo, he bigan.
Bot, lo, passand þoru out þas landes
ffra britaine sone him come tiþandes
Þat his cosin modrede þat stunde
Alle britaine so to him baundunde,
To qwam he taght in his absent
Þe yiemyng, quils he ouer ce went,
Of alle britaine, so in treson
In kyng he raisede, he nam coron,
And on his hiede sette diadem
Als lorde and kyng þe lande to yiem.
And ek alsua þe qwene gainore,
Qwam kyng arthur had wedede bifor,
Scho had her yiolden vnto modrede,
With him in spouse brek life to lede,
With him agains lagh to be quene,
In þar falsehede þam to sustene;
Þus coplede þai þam in licherie,

144

To þam a soste gret cheualrie,
To þam þe strenȝ of saxons calde
Out of britaine Arthur to halde.
Kyng arthur þis tiþandes he hers
Talde him þoru certaine messangers,
And fer beginnes to spring þe fame
Of slik sin done, so mikel to blame.
Alsone arthur he tok delaie,
Na ner to rome he tok þe waie
Als for þat tim armes to bere,
Nalangre vnquiete ne dere
Leon, þe kyng of þe romains.
Bot in þe montes he turnes agains
On his cosin, him for to wreke,
His traitour, þat wroght him spousebrak.
Þe kyng of amorik, hoel,
He lefte in þase landes to duel,
With him alle þe gallienes oste
And oþer fele dukes to him asoste,
Alle þase parties to sette in pes,
Alle distances and risinges to ces.
Kyng arthur selfe als sone iquiles
With alle þe kynges of þe west hiles
And with þar ostes he turned againe
Towardes þe kyngdum of britaine.
Þis ilke fals traitur so curste,
Modred, þat do slik falsede durste,
fforto maintene treson and swike,

145

Sent þe duk of saxons chelrik
In to þe landes of germanie
ffor [to] asoce mare cheualre,
Asoste to him þase dukes and knightes
Þat armede wer and able for sightes.
And alsone with nauie on ce
Againe to him repaire sulde he.
Conantes bituen þam stable and gode
Wer made, or he paste þe cees flode.
Modrede to him þus swar and hight,
To cese þam in þe landes he plight,
Cites, castells, and þe contres
Bituen humber and scoce men ses,
In alle þat parte of þe hile
Of qwilk þai cesede wer sumquile,
Þat es halelie to vnderstande
ffra humbres flode vnto scotelande,
Alle þat es bituen trent and twede.
And yitte þarto þam hight modrede
To gife til þam he sulde assent
Þe landes and þe contres of kent.
In alle halelie he suld þam saise
Þat kyng vortigern in his daise
To orse and to hengiste he gafe,
To þam and þairs for euer to hafe,
Paisable in alle for euer to won
Þat was in þar possession.
Duk chelrik dide his comandement:
Lo, in to germanie he went;

146

A gaine to britaine sone he soght;
Aght vndreȝ schippes ful he broght
Of paigiens wele armede þat tide.
With þam in britaine he applide.
To þe traitor modrede þai suar
Als to þar kyng for euer mare
In alle batails with him to cum,
To susten him in þe kyngdum
ffor þe contres þam hight biforn,
Qwilk þam to gif modrede was sworn.
And modrede yitte to him asoste
Of scotes and pecthes a fulgret oste,
Of hibermens number fulgrete,
And ek alle oþer þat he might gete,
Alle þase þat hattede arthur, his heme;
In modredes oste þai com wel breme.
Ane oste he gadrede of diuerse landes
Bi number of men four score thousandes
Of paigienes and of cristienes;
Alle melde to gider he þam maintenes.
To hete þam giftes he wald noȝ targe,
Tresure, landes, and rentes large,
Þoru þar helpe and þoru þar succur
Out of þe hile to halde arthur.
Qwen alle wer gadrede, an oste so rude,
Of peple so gret multitude,
To ruptuseporte fulraȝ he plette,
A gaines arthur þe hafen forsette.

147

At arthur landyng, þe soth to sayn,
Wer many of his knyghtes sclane.

Kyng arthur comes with his nauie
To ruptes porte for to aplie.
Bot, lo, modrede his sister son,
Raisede to kyng againe reson,
At ruptes hafen him againe standes,
Wil noght him suffer proche þe landes,
Of paghiens with grete oste and strang
And cristen men wel fel amang.
To fight fulraȝ, lo, þai bigan,
In schorte stonde slane many aman.
On modredes folk, lo, arthur fightes,
And sone he loses ful many knightes,
Bi fulfer ma þan dide modrede,
Or þai might cum on harde to spede.
On paghien folk ful eger þai faght,
Þe lande þoru fors on þam þai laght.
In eger fighting, lo, þai bigin
Britaines entre on þam to win.
Kyng arthur putte him selfe formaste
Entre to gette so at þe laste.
Bot many a man was slane þat stunde,
Or he might gette to þe harde grunde.
Many of his folk kyng arthur loste,
Entre þat hafen or þat he moste.
And many of his schipes iquiles
Periste for alle wer in periles.
Kyng augusele of albanie
Þat tide was slane, fightande manlie,
And ek þe kynges cosin, walwane,
In þe same stour certes he was slane.
And oþer withouten number to saie
In þat fighting was slane þat daie.

148

ffor augusele sone regnede a noþer,
Iwan, vrianes son, his broþer,
Þat aftwarde in batails and fight
Was prouede als for adoghtie knight.
Amanges knightes of arthurs
Wel and lang in fight he durs,
Prouede in þe same daies to gesse,
A man of fulgret hardinesse.
Qwen þai hade getten þe harde bank—
Or þai it gatte fulharde þai swank—
And hade it wonen with harde traiuale
fful sone þai fel vnto bataile.
Þe schame þai tok againe þai yialde
In slaghter of þam ful many falde.
Arthurs knightes wiselie wroght þai;
His oste þai sette on gode arai.
In fightes þai war assiduele
In batails ofte hade done so wele.
Lo, firste þai sette þar bateiles,
Number of horsemen vnto þam deles.
On þis maner fight þai walde:
Qwen þe fotemen fight bigin salde
Oþer gainstande comand cheltron,
Horsemen suld on slent cum on.
Þai sulde cum harde drifand on hors
And parte þar enemies oste with fors.
And sua to fle þai suld þam make,

149

Vnnese to stande, gif any strake.
Qwen þai hade þar batails araide,
Modredes ostes sone þai asaide.
Þar was nalangre targing ne lite,
Bot in harde fight [s]amen þai smite.
In harde meting to gider þai yiode,
Bot þe ta side ful litel quile stode.
Opon modrede so harde þai fight,
Him and his oste þai putte to flight
And suffer þam fle alle at laiser;
fforsoȝ þai folwede þam noȝ fer.
Bifor þai hade bene so forfoghten,
Mak ferrer suite on þam þai ne moghten.
Þis fals traitour modrede forsworn
He sagh he hade þe felde forlorn;
In þe nexte on [f]ilghande night,
Qwen alle was mirk, bot starnes light,
To gider he calde alle þe saxons
And ek of oþer nacions,
Þat quik fra þe bataile fledde,
In plaines and wodes sondrie stedde.
So with his oste asoste come he
And entres winchestres cite.
Þan and mikel of þe yier bifor
Sogeorn forsoȝ þe quene gainor
In þe cite of eborwik.
To her come sone tiþandes slik
How þat þe kyng arthur was comen
And þe lande on modrede had wo[n]en.

150

ffor her dedes wer ne gode ne fair
Of her selfe scho was in dispair.
In sorow and scham scho at þe laste
ffra eborwik cite paste
Vnto þe cite of legions.
Þar in a kirk amanges nons
Þider scho fledde, þar scho yialde hir,
In iulius temple, þe saint martir;
Amanges saint women stedfaste
Scho yialde hir þar forto life chaste.
Scho tok þe vaile with þam to won
And solempnede hir profession.

Her vencust was mordred, gon fle
Þer into wynchestre cite.

Yitte arthur smiten in fer mar ire
Vengede to be þoru gret desire,
Sen he so many vndreȝ knightes
Had loste for him þase daies in fightes,
With his oste after þe thride daie
To winchestre þoght he tak þe waye.
Bot firste certes dide þe kyng arthur
Þe corses bring to sepultur
Laie slane on grunde so fele to se
In comyng vp at his entre.
At þe thride daie, qwen so was done,
To þe cite he comes fulsone.
Þis traitour modrede, his cosin,
With his saxons recetede þar in,
Þe cite agains him þai halde;
Nan entre haf suffer him þai walde.

151

Þe kyng arthur þe entre tharnede,
Saxons þoru fors þe yiates him warnede.
He sagh noȝ ells þar of might be:
A sege he settes to þe cite.
He segede it strate allabout,
Þat naman might cum in ne out.
Þe traitour, closede within þar,
He suld him hafe nedelinges he swar.
Modrede he ces na waie of pes,
Of þinges bigone he wald noȝ ces.
Alle his knightes and ek his fers
He baldiste þam on many maners.
To alle þase þat manlie standes
He hight largelie to gife þam landes.
He parailde to issu sum tim,
Qwen maste vantage might be for him.
Him þoght he hade of folk plente,
To fight in felde if chance wald be.
To isse þarfor was noght to lette;
His ostes in batails he sette.
Of þe cite with fulgret rout
Into þe felde he essude out.
He ordainede him fight with his heme,
Þat was to him so eger and greme.
To gider in felde sette þar batals,
Aiþer oste oþer ful egerlie sails.
fful many men slane þat ilke tide,
fful griselie slaghter on aiþer side.
Bot of modredes partie þat daie
Mar number of folk dede þar laie.

152

Arthur and his knightes so kene
On modrede fight in felde was sene.
Sa harde and eger on him þai tak,
ffelde þai him dide foulie forsak.
Modrede fledde, so he ne roght
His slane folk qua to þe erde broȝ.
Lo, modredes oste biginnes to fle,
Sum bi lande waies and sum be ce,
And alle þai tok fra þe bataile
In to þe contres of cornewaile.
Arthur bihelde, him was ful wa,
Modrede so aschapede him fra.
He had ful gret anguise and tene
Þat he of felde aschape was sene.
In herte him þoght gret tene and a[n]gre
If he aschap sulde any langre.
Arthur kyng forth þoru gret desir
He folghiede after þoru deuenschir,
And in to cornewaile sone he soght;
Gret persecucions þar he wroght.
In þat contre with willes thra
He come to þe flode of cambla,
Qwar modrede and his oste abade;
To þe same stede kyng arthur rade.
Maste hardie was his selfe modrede
Of alle þe folk he hade to lede,
And euer maste eger vnto fight;
fforsoȝ he was an hardie knight.
Lo, alle his folk in fife he deles
And sette þam in ordainde bateles.

153

Better him þoght als knight hardie
In felde vencus oþer for to die
Þan langre fle als in slik gise,
So he hade done and loste his prise.
His prise was loste, ek his faiȝ broken;
Þar of anogh es talde and spoken.
Yitte of his fers him was lefte þen
Bi number sextie thousande men:
Of scote and pecthes and aliens,
Saxons and oþer with him sustens;
And of þat number he þar hade
ffife batails fulsone he made.
In ilke bataile ordaind he
Sex thousande armede men to be
And ek sex vndreȝ men alsua
To þase sextie and ek thries twa.
And ane bataile he made to him
Of þase þat lefte ouer þat tim,
To ilke bataile sette gode ladesemen
In fight þe folk to lere and ken.
Qwen alle was sette, he made þam balde,
Of þar famen he þam talde
Alle sulde be þaires þai hade in welde,
If þai might victors be in felde.

154

Þe kyng sclowe mordred, so sais þe boke,
And arthur dede wondys he toke.

Arthur his oste, lo, he ordains
On þe toþer side þat folk agains.
He settes þam of his beste gise,
In nighien batails þam to diuise;
In ilke bataile of fotemen wer
And þe right and þe lefte corner,
And ilke bataile it was four sqwar
Againe þar enemies to be war;
At ilke bataile sette dukes sere,
Þam of fighting to teche and lere.
He bade sla þe traitours forsuorn,
Dampnede paighiens for euer lorn,
“Þat in help of þe traitour comes
ffra outen landes and oþer kyngdomes.
Þai come on als traitours and thefes,
Þis hile and pople [to do] sar grefes.
Þai cum now als forsworn traitours,
Til þam to win alle our honours.
Þe traitour hafes þam sworn and hight
In þis lande gife to þam our right.”
Qwen baȝ þe ostes was baldiste anoght,
Aiþer to oþer remude and droght.
And sone to gider harde smate þase knightes,
Aiþer ostes on oþer fulharde fightes.
Griselie and fel was þe bataile,
Ilke man sla oþer dide his traiuaile.

155

Þar was na þing bot dintes and strakes;
Alle yiode to þe grunde þe dede ouertakes.
Gret slaghter þar was and fulgret crie;
Þai fel to grunde on aiþer partie.
Ilkeman laide on, so he wer wode,
To fel alle þase agains him stode.
Slik waimenting and dolful crie
Was of wondede folk for to die,
Duleful it wer be writen in bok.
Ouer alle þai wondede and wondes tok,
Ouer alle þai slogh and was slane,
To mikel of þe daie was gane.
Qwen mikel of þe daie was paste,
With his folk arthur at þe laste—
He hade with him sex thousande men,
Sex vndreȝ sex and sex siþes ten—
Qwar modrede was he wiste fulwele,
fful yiern he droȝ to his bateile.
He made him waie þider with his swerde,
He felde alle doune, laude and lerde.
Modredes bataile þoru he percede,
To modrede selfe ful yiern he [s]ercede.
Ireful he schede ful mikel blode,
Or he come quar þe traitour stode.
He slogh þe traitour with his handes;
With him wer slane ful many thousandes.

156

Yia, alle to grunde yiode arthur fas.
Alle þis oþer þat ses þis cas
Þai lefte þe place, a waie þai fledde,
ffleande þe feldes þai ouer spredde.
Als hardie men euer, so þam þoght,
Þai turnede againe, dide þat þai moght.
Þe fight þat daie was ful cruel
And þe bataile so harde and fel,
Þat welner felle alle þe dukes of prise
Þat fightande wer on baȝ partise.
On modrede side fele dukes slik:
Of þe saxons þe duk cheldrik,
Egbrut, briming, and duk erlas,
With oþer dukes also gode so þas.
Of hirlande certes fele kynges fel:
Gillapatrix and gillasel,
Gillarton and gillamore.
Of scotes and pecthes wel many score,
Withouten number, witte yie alle,
Þat daie in felde was sene falle.
On arthur side diede þat daie
Odebrut, þe kyng of norwaie,
And ek aschil, þe kyng of dakes,
Cador limenik þe dede takes,

157

And þe duk cassibelliane,
And oþer dukes ful many ane.
Als diede þe beste knightes of britons
So dide of oþer nacions,
Qwilk he with him þar to felde broght,
ffra diuerse landes to him þai soght.
And arthur selfe, þe noble kyng,
Of erdelike kynges maste of louing,
ffor qwam alle landes trembled and quok,
Þat daie in felde dede wondes he tok.
ffra þeþen he went alls for aquile
To duel in auolones hile,
Þar in forto warisse his wondes;
Bot certes he lifede bot schort stondes.
He granttede and gaf to his cosin
Duk cador son, calde constantin,
Cador son, duk of cornewaile,
Bifor alle in comun consaile
Of alle britaine þe diademe,
Als nexte of blode to him wald seme,
In þe yiere fra þe incarnacion
Of our lorde iesum goddeson
ffife vndreȝ and fourte and tua
Bi date writen es numbred sua.

158

Constantine sclow mordred sonnes,
And scomfet wes alle þe brittones.

Wondede was arthur in bataile,
Nan medicines might help ne waile.
Dede wondes he hade so fele and grefe,
He diede with[in] schorte quile and brefe.
He diede within bre[f]e tim and schorte
Alle britaine to gret descomforte.
He diede in þe hile of auolon.
His pople with grete compunction
His cors in to britaine þai broght;
And in fone daies, lo, þar to soght
Bischopes and dukes and alle þe princes
Þat wer within britaine prouinces.
To glaskenbir his cors þai bare,
And with honour þai delfe it þar.
Þe diadem þan tok constantin,
Cador son, arthurs cosin.
Alson so he to kyng was raisede
And alle britaine vnto him saisede,
Þe saxons rase with willes thra
In help of modrede sones twa
Þe hile of britaine forto win,
Modrede heris mak kyng þarin.
Gret harmes þai wroght, þe soȝ to saine,
In flaume and slaghter þoru out britaine.
With constantin ful ofte þai fight,
And euer þe kyng þam put to flight.
In felde þai might noȝ with him dele,
Vencuste þai wer in batails fele.
Þe tane, lo, he was so harde stedde,
Þat into london cite he fledde.

159

Into winchestre fledde þe toþer
To halde, so london helde his broþer.
Þase daies diede, þe soȝ to spel,
Þe religiouse clerk saint daniel,
So saint and so worthie pastor,
Bischope of þe kirk of bangor;
And gloucestres bischope, theon,
Þoru goddes grace and election—
ffor he man of saint life was fonden—
Was raisede in archebischop of londen;
And saint dauide þase daies diede he,
Archebischope of legions cite,
In meneues cite firste marte daie;
He diede within his awne abbaie.
Of alle k[ir]kes of his diocise
He lofede it maste, and þar he lise.
ffor saint patrik, þe halie man,
In his daies þat abbai bigan,
And he twa vndreȝ yieres biforn
Sande þus or saint dauide was born
Þe birth of dauide þar sulde be,
Þat halie stedde to occupe.
Qwils dauide in þat abbaie duelde
And amanges his breþer him helde,
H[im] tok sodaine langre fulgrefe;
He diede within scho[r]t time and brefe
Þoru comandement and þe biding
Of naugon venedoces kyng

160

In þat kirk saint dauide þai delfe,
So in his life he bade him selfe.
ffor him in gastelie dedes to wirk
Þe bischop of lampatrines kirk,
Kinok, was chosen maste worthie ane
To þe cee metropolitane.
Þai ches kynok als fra his see
And raisede in mar dignite.
Kyng constantin with his britons
Euer he werraide on þe saxons.
He enentisede þam now her, now þar;
A gaines him þai hade na fote far.
Þam to onsek he ceste noght,
Til he þam hade in thraldum broght,
Bonden þam in his subgection,
In his thraldum als forto won.
And ek he tak baȝ þe cites
In quilk twa modrede sons [f]les.
In winchestre þe ta bachelere
ffleande, lo, bifor goddes alter
In þe kyrk of saint amphibane
With his handes he hafes him slane.
Þe toþer in þe cite of londen
He sekes him to þat he be fonden.
Qwar he was kyng constantin hers,
Yia, hidde in ane abbaie of frers.

161

Bi ane alter in priue plas
Þoru cruelle dede fonden him slas.
After þar dede thre yier wer gan,
Kyng constantine his s[el]fe was slane
Þoru aureile conan, his cosin,
Þase daies on him bigan to rin.
Kyng constantine in þis landes here
He regnede in alle bot twentie yier.
Lo, borne he was to sepultur
And delfen with in þe stanes structur
Biside vters cors, pendagron,
Qwar his aeldres be delfen wer won.
ffra salesbir fer es it noght,
Þoru craftie arte of merlin wroght.
Þe anglise folk amanges þam alle
Stanlingel in þar tong it calle.

Her of þe kynges þat bar þe cure
After þe deth of kyng arthure.

Nexte after þe kyng constantine
Regnede aureile conan, his cosin,
A ful hardie bacheler to gesse,
Knight of wonderful hardenesse.
In britaines hile ful manlie he duelde,
And þe monarche hale he helde.
Þe diademe he hade bene worthie
Of alle þe hile þe monarchie,

162

If he in þe regne hade done na gilte,
Þe kynges blode, his heme, noȝ spilte.
And emerale þoru werkes grim,
Þat sulde haf bene kyng [after] hime,
fful gret vnquiet certes he made,
And in treson agains him rade;
With ille he ceste him neuer to saile.
In treson he tok emeraile,
And ek with his twa sones he mette;
ffalselie in gaiole he þam sette;
To emeraile done sorow anoȝ,
Him and his tua sones he sloȝ.
And suo þoru falsede and treson
He gatte to haf britaines coron.
He sloȝ þam thre, and fra þat stunde
His selfe diede on þe yiere secunde.
Regne al his daies [he] was sene
To þe montaunȝ of yiers thretten.
Kyng vortipore come after him,
Als nexte of blode þe regne he nim.
Agains him rase alle saxons,
Yia, þase þat within britaine wons.
And into germanie þai soght
And fulgret number fra þeþen þai b[roght]
Of saxons out of germanie;
Þai rifede vp with gret nauie.
Bot sone, lo, kyng vortipor
Of þar comyng wel kneu bifor.
Of alle britaine he gadrede þe knightes,
And sone with þam in felde he fightes.

163

Þe victorie of þam he wan.
Sone he purchaste til him fra þan
Of alle britaine þe monarchie,
And regned þarin ful strengfullie.
And after sua done in þis warld here
Þe pople he gouern wele four yiere
With diligens and in gode pes.
And sua he ended and made deces.
After him come kyng malg his haire,
A knight of cors [so] noble and faire,
Þe fairiste man, þe soȝ to saine,
Of alle þe dukes of britaine.
Þoru strenȝ he put out of his lande
Alle þe tirantes þarin he fande.
Þan þis oþer he was mar large;
In giftes to gife he walde noȝ targe.
In armes he was strenghful anogh,
And gretelie to prowes he drogh,
Of prowes knight chosen þe beste.
Bot a vice mikel his theus out keste:
To licherie he was so gifen,
In fleiselie lustes foulie to lifen.
Ek agains kinde he wald noȝ blin
To vse sodomites foule sin.
To fleselie sin he him turnede,
Þat godde keste leth and with him scurnede.
Alle þe hile hale for soȝ had he
And þe sex hiles in þe weste ce:

164

Hirlande, hislande, þat es to saie,
And orchades, godeland, norwaie
And danmark and þe kyng of dakes,
In harde bataile he þam takes.
Alle he þam made subgettes to be
Þoru strenȝ and fors to his pouste.
Pes durede vnto his dais wer paste.
Qwen he was dede so at þe laste,
Þe diademe tok þe kyng catrik.
Amanges his pople he bar him slik
And so wrangwiselie he bigan,
Þat alle him hated, baȝ godde and man.
ffalsed he vsede in dede and worde;
Þoru out his regne he descorde.
Of þe britons sum him maintende,
And sum agains, him to schende.
Of his dukes wele fele he slogh;
Tuene him and þam was sorow anogh.
Saxons bihelde him in his dedes
How vnstable þat he him ledes.
Þai sagh vnstablenes so mikel,
To his awne folk so false and fikel:
ffor wreȝ he ne might þe regne sustene,
Þat was him and his folk bituene.
Þoru out þar aler comun assent
Into hirland welraȝ þai went
Vnto gormunde, king of affrik,
Britaine to win of kyng catrik.

165

ffor of affrik þe kyng gormunde
Into hirlande was comen þat stunde.
With grete nauie he rifede þare.
Kyng ne dukes he walde nan spare
Þat he ne dide þe folk of þe contre
In his subgection for to be.

Kyng gormund come of affrikane.
Saxons and he þai wer both ane.

Gormunde, þe kyng of affrik, herde
How þe britons amanges þam ferde
And þoru treson how þe saxons,
And oþer winni[n]gs and achesons.
Lo, sone he comes ouer þe weste cee
With grete nauie and folk plente.
With armede men he entrede þis landes,
Of affrikans four score thousandes.
And with þis folk thousandes four scor
He wastede alle he fande bifor.
And þe four scor saxons þat tide
Þai destrode bi a noþer side.
And ek þe contre citisaines
Ilkeane ras and faght oþer agains,
So on alle sides durand þe quile
Halelie þai wastede alle þe hile.
Saxons and þe folk affricane
Als in acorde þai wer baȝ ane.
Þoru out alle þe hile þai yiode;
Þe kyng catrik þai occupede.

166

Ofte mette þai in batails and fight;
Kyng catrik euer was put to flight;
And fra cite into cite
Euer þai him chaste and made to fle.
Alle his kyngdum þai made it waste;
ffra halde to hald þai him enchaste.
Þoru out britaine so large and wide
Welner he durste þam neuer abide.
In to circestre þai him drafe;
Þai segede him þar nedelinges to haf.
So kyng gormunde him segede þat tim,
Lo, isamberde he comes to him,
Lowise cosin, þe kyng of france,
His helpe to haf in gret destance.
He purchaste him vnto his frende
Als in his helpe with him to wende.
His cristendum, lo, he forsok;
ffra iesum cristes troght he him tok
ffor gormundes lof in slik couena[n]t:
Þat gormunde sulde him his helpe grant
And ouer þe salte ce with him cum,
Of france to win him þe kyngdum
Als fra his heme, þe kyng lowise;
He schewede and saide it sulde be his.
Þoru strenghful fors withouten dout
Þer of his heme hade put him out.
He haldes him out, he saide, þase thrawes,
Wrangewiselie, so alle france it knawes.

167

Kyng gormunde for of his him hight
He sulde restor him in his right,
ffra he hade out chaste þe britons
And in britaine ceisede þe saxons.
Lo, kyng gormunde þe cite winnes
And alle tresor and godes within es.
Alle he spolede þat he might finde,
And alle þat lefte in fire he brinde.
Men and women, femaile and male,
Lerede and lawede, and childer smale,
Of þe britons þase daies life bere,
Alle he þam dide to swerde and spere.
With kyng catrik in felde he mette;
In harde bataile, lo, same þai mette.
Bot kyng catrik þe felde he loste,
And slane þat daie mikel of his oste.
He fledde waie, him selfe to safe;
Ouer seuernes flodde gormunde him drafe.
He him enchaste ouer hilles and dales
And drafe him to þe contres of wales.
He drafe him clene out of britaine,
Neuer hafter for to repaire againe.
Þan gormunde, kyng of affricanes,
Biginnes alneu waste britaines waines,
With alle his folk to waste þe feldes,
Destroi alle þinges þat frutes yieldes.
Alle bring to noght was þar desire,
Alle þe contres þai sette on fire,
Alle þe cites of þe hile þai win,
Alle þai sette þam on fire to brin.
Þai ceisede neuer daie ne tide,
To alle was brinde was edifide.

168

Naþing þai lefte biggede to be,
Alle clene þai wastede fra ce to ce,
So þat þoru alle þis hile so brayd
Was noiþer vsede plogh ne spayd.
Sua fra þe suth ce vnto twede
Nan tilthmen were, [ne] ploghes yiede.
Ne na man durste ne clerk ne priste,
Lerde ne laude, neuen iesum criste.
Þe aithen men ale dide to suerde
Þat cristenede were, baȝ laud and lerde.
In fire þai brinde alle þe bokes
Þat pristes and clerkes in kirkes on lokes.
Temples and kirkes, lo, alle bedene,
To grunde þai fellede þam lagh and clene.
Cristen poueraile, sum her, sum þare,
Þai fledde for flaide, certes þai ne wiste qware.
Þai fledde for qualm and pestilens
Till hilles and ops to hafe defens,
Sen of þar famen þai wer slane
Qwar so þai might be fonden and tane.

Brittons was drifen, and noȝ abydys,
Of britton to þe west sydys.

Lo, þis britons þat neiþer qware stokede,
Lo, now men ses þam ouer yiokede,
Lo, þai þat in fer landes wroght schame
Er vnderfete in þar lande at hame.
Lo, now ensample of þe britons,
Þat dered alle oþer nacions,
Þat alle þe hiles about þam won
Broght into þar subgection.

169

Lo, þai þoru pride and charge of sin
To falle and menuse now bigin;
Lo, now in þar hautes and pride
Amanges þam selfe bigin to chide.
Now er þai made odife and slawe
Þar awne vnworthines to knawe,
Þat bifor war so doghtie halden,
Þat so fer kyngdoms win þai walden.
Now mai þai noght þam selfe defende,
Ne þam witte qware to reste ne lende.
Now es þar pride and þar hautes
Alle broght to sorow and bitternes.
Now er þai fallen in schenschipe strang,
Alle þoru descorde þam selfe amang.
Lose propre erde now er þai sene
Þoru strife risen þam selfe bituene.
ffulfilde was þan, þe soȝ to spel,
Of þam es written in þe euangel:
Ilke kyngdum þat biginnes to rise,
Within it selfe to mak diuise,
Salle werde it selfe to wa and wogh;
Descomforth salle it hafe anogh;
And ouse againes it selfe þat strifes
It salle noȝ stande bot doune it drifes;
And halle þat rises abouen halle
It sal noght dure bot sone doune falle.
Ouse on ouse salle stande na stonde,
In litel quile sal thraw to gronde.

170

Lo, britaines regne þoru fele enprises
Þat into pride so heght it rises,
Þat alle folk in dout it broght,
In fer landes grete maistrie wroght;
Lo, now in propre pride and sinnes
Als in descorde it partes and tuinnes.
Envie of herte blondres þar thoghtes
And wirdes þam and bringes to noghtes.
Envie þam sufferde for na þing
Obeissande be als to a kyng.
Þerfor paighiens opon þam cum,
ffra þam occupes þar kyngdum,
Destroide and reueste þam þar contres
And entres in to þar landes and fes.
Ouse on ouse, lo, þai caste þam doune
And wastes baȝ cite and toune.
Þai put þam out of þar kyngdomes
In sorow to alle þat of þam comes.
Lo, now þe linages paighiene
Alle þat was þaires haf þai er sene.
Castels, cites, and bestes, and store,
Riche wedes, ieuhels, tresore,
And alle þar oþer possessions,
Lo, now þe paighiens alle þai in wons.
Now þai als caitife folk to se
Er priuede of þar form dignite.
Recouer againe þat þairs was are
Vnnes þai sal [oþer] neuer mare.

171

After þis ilke weride tiran,
Gormunde, þat was so felons a man,
With his affricans multitude
Alle þe hile welner hade destroude,
Þe mar partie of alle þe hile,
Þat loogre was calde þat quile,
And alle northumbre, and deirie,
With alkins prouinces so frelie,
Lo, alle to þe saxons he gafe
In þar possessions for to hafe.
ffor þoru treson of þam sum tide
Into þe hile firste he applide.
And sua of þis landes at þe laste
To þe kingdum of france he paste.
Of þe britons alle þase þai lefte
Alle þat þai hade fra þam wase refte.
Þai fled, so men þat noȝ abides,
Of britaine into þe weste sides,
[OMITTED] [wales]
Þar forto duelle in hilles and dales;
Þai þar duel certes, and neuer þai ces
Þe saxons der and mak vnpes;
And euer þai spi and haf in wille
On þam to rase, ouer rin with ille.

172

Prymates and prelates fled alle at onse
To vales with reliquis of santtes bonse.

Theon, þe archebischope of londen,
In hilles hidde durste noȝ be fonden,
And tadiok of eborwik,
Primate in þat archebischoperik,
Gretelie þai were greuede and anoide
Qwen þai sagh alle so clene destroide.
To temples and kirkes, lo, þai bihelde;
Þat þaires suld be þai sagh doune felde.
So fair nonres fele oþer abbaie
Alle sagh þai thrawen doune to þe claie.
Þai fledde for drede of affricans
With bischopes wer þar suffragans
And with þe clerkes ordres hade tan,
Þase in þat slaghter lefte vnslan,
In to wodes, couertes of tres,
Þat wer within wales contres;
And with þam ek to þai come þare
Þe relikes of hali men þai bare.
Þai dredde if folk barbariene
Relikes of saintes if þai might sene,
Þai wald þam brin and do awaie,
Sua neuer after sene sulde be þaie.
Of fele aelde saintes fele hali baines,
Þat wer in halikirkes waines,
Þai walde left þam in perile
Of paigiens, þam to ful and file,

173

If þai þam yiald þoru herte desires,
ffor cristes troght bicum martires.
And fele bischopes of þe britons,
Pristes, and ek of religons
ffor dole and sorow in þe hille slik
Þai soght to britaine amorik.
With grete nauie and schipes gode
Þai passede þider ouer cees flode.
Sua alle þe kirkes of prouinces twa
Of loegre and northumbre alsua
Wer voide and spoilde and fire ouertaken
And of þar couentes clen forsaken.
Þe diademe þan þe britons loste;
Haf it againe lang tides þai ne moste.
Þe monarche of þe hile halle
Win it agains lang tides þai ne salle.
Namar þam forse riche ne pouer
fform dignite for to recouer.
In þe partie of þe ile þai reste
Was lefte to þam als in þe weste,
Þar als in subgection to be
Noght of a king bot tirannes thre;
And yitte þase ilke tirannes thrin
Ilkan on oþer with ille þai rin.
Ilkan of þam oþer deres and noies
And þaires wastes and destroies.

174

Mikel of britaine has þe saxons;
Þai parte it alle in porcions.
Sum of þam es made kyng of kent,
So thams partes, it es þar stent;
Sum suthsex hafes to him fre,
Weldande sicestre, þe cite;
Sum of westesex þa[i] ber þam grete
Towardes wilteschir and somersette,
Þar es winton and saresbir
And oþer ma cites þan þir;
To sum es gifen þe gouernale
Of deuenschire and of cornewale;
Sum of estesex so for athraw,
Slik porcions we made to knaw;
Sum of esteangle northfolk es calde
And suthfolk ek þarwith to halde;
And sum of marcherie fra vmbre suth
ffra trent to thams knawen ful cuth;
To sum es gifen þe signorie
Of northumbre and deirie
Bitwex twede to vmbre and trent
To welde alle in his comandement.
In ilke contre þai multiplide
Cites and touns reedifide.
Temples þai raisede of gret emprise
In worschipe of þar maulmetrise.
Lo, þe saxons þe porcion
Þat þam es gifen in to won
Amanges þam þai it calle aenglande,
Lande of anglis to vnderstande.
ffor it es fair and delitable,
To alkins frutes ful profitable.
Englais þe folk þarin es calde,
Amanges alle folk þat name to halde,
ffor qui of forme fair men þai er,
So þe schape of angels þai bere.

175

Þat name þai bar, yia, albedene
Quiles þai wer folk barbariene,
Qwile þai paighiens in mistroth hofede,
Or þai to suthfastenes wer mofede.
Yitte þe saxons durande lang quile
Tharned monarchie of þe hile.
Þai tharnede lang þe diademe,
ffor it wald noȝ to so fele seme.
Þe regne in porcions þai dele;
Kynges þai hade sumqwile to fele.
Sumqwile yie might her neuen
Þai hade amanges þam kynges seuen,
And sumqwile thre and sumqwile fife;
And amanges þam, lo, ofte ras str[i]fe:
Ilkan on oþer als for þar rightes
Wele fele siþes chides and fightes.
Ama[n]ges þam was grete vnquiete,
Ilkane to bring oþer vnderfete.
And ek þe britons þai ful yiern
Þat drifen er ouer þe flodes seuern
Þai [spie] and waite ful eger and frek
Qwat tim on þam mak anie escheke.
To þam to do þe harmes þai maie
Of slik wille neuer mar ces þaie.

Austyn passes þe west ce,
And in kent þar landys he.

Dvrande þase yieres, lo, saint gregor,
Or he was pape sumdele bifor,
In romes he comes to þe chepings,
Qwar bie and selle men vses alþings.
ffair childer to selle he sagh þar sette—
Marchandes fra fer landes þam fette—
ffair of schape, of noble wut,
And quite of cors withouten dout.
Þar hair it schane so fair and bright,

176

ffair and lofesum in mannes sight.
Of þe marchande sone he enquerde
Of þase childer þat þar aperde,
Qwar he so fair childer fande,
Qwat contre and of qwat lande,
Qwat high þe folk of quam þam cam,
And ek qwat was þar kinges name.
Marchande ansuerde, þe soth to saine,
He hade þam broght out of britaine.
“Þat ledisse folk certes er paighiens
Þat slik fairede of cors sustens.
Paigiens er alle, þe soth to spelle;
Anglais es þar name þat þar duelle.
Derie es calde þe prouince;
Kyng elle forsoȝ so hatte þar prince.”
Saint gregor to sighting him turnes
And in his herte he wepes and murnes.
He saide: “allace, men of slik face
Of mighti godde sulde tharne þe grace;
Of so far forme slik childer and barnes
Knawing of þar creatour tharnes;
Þe fende slik childer haf in pouste,
So uoutable in mannes sight to se.
Anglais þat name þat sounes a[n]gels,
Þat euer in goddes presens duels.
In uout to angels þai er lik,
In saule for soȝ þai sulde be slik.
Of derie, lo, hider þai soght;
ffra goddes ire þam agh be broght.
ffra þe deuels regne þai sal be tak,
And cristenmen gode to godde þam mak.
To goddes regne þai sal be calde,
His willes in erde to do and halde.
And elle þe name of þar king
To mightie godde it sounes lowing.

177

Godde salle be louede in þase contres
Qwar childer haf angels uout men ses.”
In pape was sacrede, lo, saint gregor;
To fulfille þis he hade memor.
He sendes sone within brefe quile
Diuine prechours to britains hile:
Saint augustine, mellite, iohane
With oþer saint monkes many ane,
Þase aenglisemen for to conuerte,
Til godde of heuen to turne þar herte.
In þe yiere of þe incarnacion
Of our lorde iesum, godde son,
ffife vndreȝ four score fife siþes thre
Augustine passes þe weste cee.
Rifande to lande his schipe he sette
In to ane hile es calde thanette.
With him þar wer of monkes and men
Bi number welner four siþes ten.
King adelbert þis tiþandes lidde.
Of kynges of kent he was þe thridde,
Sen þe aenglis kynges to regne bigonen
And þe regne of britons had wonen.
Of aenglis kinges he was þe maste;
Mar þan his aeldres he had purchaste,
Þat his empir þoru kent it stode
And sua strekande to vmbres flode.
He sent worde: it was his wille
In þat ilke hile to halde þam stille
Vnto þat he þam to him calde.
Alle þar message her certes he walde.
Kyng adelbert bifor þat tim
Hade herde or þase monkes com to him
Of cristenmennes religion.
ffor his selfe in condicion
Of kinges of france tok his wife,
Bertha scho hight, þat alle her life

178

Her awne cristen troght to halde;
And alle her meigne so þai salde.
Kyng adelbert after daies fone
To thanettes hile he come sone.
Saint augustine he with his fers
Towardes þe kyng qware he apers—
So deuotelie, lo, þam amang
Þe letanie wel loude þai sang—
A siluer croice bifor him borne,
He come and stode þe kyng biforne.
He schewede þe kyng qware for he come,
ffra gregor sent, þe pape of rome.
Of iesum criste with wordes balde
To þe kyng and his he saide and talde,
He schewede þam þoru many reson
Þat iesum criste es goddes son.
He prechede þam þoru wordes lele
Þe right troght for mannes hele,
Withouten qwilk in herte to hafe
It suld nane erdelik man be safe.

Austyn with miracles wondyrs and prechyng
Convertyd angland to iesum kyng.

Kyng adelbert þus he ansuerde
To augustine wordes he herde:
“ffair er þe wordes and þe hetinges
Þat þou to vs now schewes and bringes.
Bot neu þai er and vncertaine.
I mai noght for slik wordes to saine
Suffer þe laughe leghlie refusede,
Qwilk lang time aenglis folk as vsede.
Bot sen yie er messangers
And fra so fer to vs apers,
Als for our gude to schew and saie
Þe þinges yie trow soȝ and veraie,

179

Harmes nane wil we to yow do,
Bot our gode wille grant yow vnto.
Within þat we hafe auisement
Qwat troght to halde we wille assent.
And to yow we na þing vs greue;
Bot to alle folk we gife gode leue
Þat with fre wile til yow wille cum
Of yow for to tak cristendum.”
Kyng adelbert gaf a mansion
To augustine qware he sulde won,
Þar within dorobernes cite,
Cantorbir now named to be.
Þar augustine and ek his fers
Alle þe pople he preches and lers.
Yia, goddes worde, lo, þai preched þan;
In water þai cristenede many aman.
Godde grantede to þam for mannes hele
Miracles and wondres to scheu so fele,
Þat mikel folk vnto þam ran
In iesum criste to trowe bigan.
And þar maulmettes þai deniede,
And with loude voice þai saide and criede:
“Goddes fra setes celestiene
Amanges erdelik men þis daies er sene.”
Kyng adelbert with dukes and princes
And alle þe nobleste of þe prouinces
ffalse goddes renaide þai and forsok,
And cristendum in water þai tok.
And siþen folk plentiuouse anogh
To cristendum ful yiern þai drogh.
Alle þe folk so with in fone yiers
Þe laughes of halikirk so lers,
Þat cristende wer alle þe folk of kent
And ek welner to þe flode of trent.

180

Within þat, lo, saint augustine
Þe pople to criste for to encline
Þoru saint gregore comandement
To areles, þe cite, he went;
And of ether, þe archebischope þare,
Augustine was sacrede ful yiare
In archebischope, to haf þe state
Ouer aenglis folk to be primate.
He comes agains and sone he gerte
Þoru assent of kyng adelberte
fforsoȝ in cantuares cite
Ordaine metropolitanes see,
Amiddes cite of cantuare
His see to stande for euermar,
Þe dignite þare þat in form stonden
Pape eleuther stabliste in londen.
In cantorbir within schorte tide
Þoru þe kyng and him was edifide
A monastre, sacrede in þe honour
Of mighti godde, our salueour.
Þe qwilk monastre stabliste it dours
ffor him and alle his successours.
Anoþer monastre in þe suburb
ffor beriels, na man to destrub,
Reale he made for þe berielles
Of bischopes and kynges in kent duelles.
In þe qwilk stede þe kyng yielbright
A fair kirk he parailde and dight
In þe worschipe of peter and paule
ffor hel of cristen men saul.
At rofe he mad a suffragane,
Bischope se in london made ane.
And in oþer stedes ek of þe lande
Qwar able him þught and maste semande,
Amanges cristen folk englais
He raisede kirkes and abbais.

181

Or augustine come to britaine
To preche þe troght of criste certaine,
Mikel of þe hile was of misse lede
Als fer so englais occupede,
Þoru fals goddes made so blinde,
Þat in þar witte þai cuth noȝ finde
How to cum out of þar errour,
Þoru troght to knaw þar creatour.
And þe contres quar britons duellde
Yitte þe cristendum þai helde.
Þe lede þai helde als wise and yiape
Þai had of eleuther þe pape.
In þat troght þai had lifed lang;
It ceste ne falde neuer þam amang,
Þof þe saxons amanges þam wonde
And þar troght ful mikel hade stonde
And drifen þam hade out of þar thede.
Bot euer forth in þar troght þai yiede.

Austyn com to bangor with good menyng
To viset þe trouth brittons stod in.

In to wales came saint augustine
To visite þe troght britons stode In.
And qwen he come in to þar lande,
Seuen bischoperikes in wales he fande,
And ane archebischoprik of þa,
Abbais and oþer nonneres ma,
With able bischopes amanges þam stabliste
In gode troght stode of iesum criste.

182

Monkes and pristes in monastres won
In right order of religion,
Amanges alle oþer religions
Of monkes in order of þe britons.
He comes in to bangores cite;
A noble abbaie þar findes he.
In þat abbaie he findes þare
fful gret number of monkes ware.
Þai dueld als in four porcions;
Priors to sette amanges þam wons.
In þe monastre diuisede þai were;
Ordre of religions alle þai bere.
Of þase porcions made had [nan] lesse
Þan thre vndreȝ monkes to gesse.
And alle in order lifede fair and wele,
Sustend with trauaile manuele.
Þar abot certes he hight dinok,
Þat ledde þam alle in goddes yiok,
A man anogh religiouse
To gouern and lede goddes house.
Wele lerede he was and cuth gret parte
Of alkins maner of liberaile arte.
Augustine haskede subgections
Of alle þe bischopes of þe britons.
Entice þam certes he walde and gere
To laughis of þe englis þam bere,
Obediens with þam to mak,
Comun trauaile with þam to tak,
With þar licens goddes worde to preche,
Þar primacie ouer þam to reche.

183

Þe britons againe ansuers and sais:
Na þing to do with þe englais
Þarto nane of þam assentes.
Þai prouede with diuerse argumentes
And ek þoru fele resons and lagh
To þe aenglais agh þam noȝ to dragh,
In þar subgection for to be,
Sen þai had archebischopes see
And of þam selfe þai hade primate,
Of aelde tim confirmede his state.
And þe aenglais, so al þe warlde ses,
Hafes refte þam þar propre contres
And þoru lang tim ful mikel þam d[er]de,
Put þam out of þar propre erde.
And euer redie yitte er þai efte
Refe þam þar partie þat þam es lefte.
Qwarefor þam agh, þai saide and suare,
Haf þam in hate for euer mar.
Þe aengleis troght, lo, þai refuse
And ek þe religion þai vse.
Þe aengleis troght þai sette at noght,
To quilk þai wer so neulings broght.
To comun with þam in anikins þing
Þai saide it sulde na man þam bring.
Þai saide and suar durande alle stoundes
Comun with þam namar þan hundes.
Bot serue þai walde iesum goddesson
In stedefaste troght, so þai wer won,
Vnder þar primate, þai sai and sege,
And vse þar propre priuilege,

184

Qwilk þai hade vsede so lang bifor,
ffour vndreȝ yiere and ner thre score,
In þat ilke troght to dur and lifen
Þe pape eleuther had þam gifen.
ffor erdelik dout þai walde noȝ lette
To halde þase laughes þe pape þam sette.
Lo, adelbert, þe kyng of kent,
Qwen he hers þe britons assent,
Of þam him þoght ful gret dedeigne
Britons slik willes for to demeigne,
Þat þar bischopes wald noght encline
Subgection mak to augustine.
Þat þai amanges þam suld despise
Prechung of augustine so wise,
Slik þinges of þam he tok to grefe.
Consaile he tok wel schort and brefe.
He gadrede power on ilke side:
Of northumbre kyng edilfride
And oþer kynges of aenglande
He procured þam with him to stande,
Baȝ aithen kynges and ek cristen,
Doghtie of armes in land he wisten.
So a gret oste same he broght,
Towardes bangor cite he soght,
In þat cite with willes thra
With swerde withouten lette to sla
Þe abote dinok and ek his clerkes,
Þat haly men wer and of gode werkes,
fforqui þai þam despisede hade
And ek na subgection made
Til augustines dignite,
Sen þai clamed cristenmen to be.

185

At bangor was sclane with dynt of swerd
Two hundreth and fourty monkes interd.

King adelbert and kyng adelfride
And oþer of þar assent þat tide,
Kynges and dukes, to þam assoste,
Gadred þai had a strenȝful oste.
With many a knight and many A prince
Þai entrede in to britons prouince.
Þai come to logecestres cite;
Duk brochmaile þarin was he.
Duk brochmaile þar he abade
With alle þe strengh he with him hade.
Comen þai wer to þe same cite
Of britons fra diuerse contre
So fele monkes and heremites,
Þat in þase prouinces habites,
Bischopes, abotes, and pristes fele,
In goddes seruice deuote and lele.
And ek of þe cite bangore
Þider wer comen ful many a scor
Of monkes worthie, saint and deuote,
With saint dinok, þe hali abote.
Alle wer þai in afflictions,
In mornings mak processions.
Þai praiede with gret deuocion
ffor þe poples saluacion.
Slik ostes gadrede so gret number
Edelfride, þe kyng of northumber.
fforsoȝ þase daies he walde na wester

186

Þan þe cite of legecestrie.
With alle his strengh he sette bataile
With legecestrie duk brochmaile.
Þe duk with litel number of knightes
Againstandes and with him fightes.
Quiles strenȝ might dur, he faght fulfast;
He lefte þe cite at þe laste.
Bot gret harmes and sorow he wroght
On his famen þat on him soght,
Iquiles he was in bataile stedde,
Or he lefte þe cite and fledde.
Kyng edelfride þe cite tok,
Qwilk þe britons fledde and forsok.
And qwen he vnderstandes and knause
Of þase monkes comyng þe cause,
fforqui his selfe was eithen man,
On alle cristen men raȝ he ran.
He lofede noþer monk ne priste,
He haitede alle þat trowede in criste.
He bade þai sulde of þam non spare,
Bot sla alle doune bifor þam ware.
And sua þai sloȝ þat daie with swerde
Alle þase þar funden, laude and lerde,
Of monkes in order so hali men
Twa vndreȝ and four siþes ten,
Alle þase in pure martirdum
Til heuenrik blis worthie to cum.
Criste þai seruede with pure des[i]res;
Þai schedde þar blode als pur martires,

187

Worthie made to worschipes grete,
Of heuenrik purchas þe sete.
Kyng adelbert was noȝ in wille
Þase halie men to sla ne spille.
He walde þase daies nane armes ber
Þam to werde ne ek to der,
Namar oþer dukes of þe oste,
Cristen kynges to him assoste.
To rin on þam greteli þai groched;
Nane of þam with ille þam tochede.
Of þe saxons kyng edelfride
Of his done slaghter him þoght gret pride,
And forth he wrogh so [a] tiran,
Þat so of cristen men bigan.
Towardes bangor welraȝ soght he
Also for to destroie þat cite.
Alle þe dukes þat were in wales
Of him þai herde so felons tales.
Same gadrede dukes slik:
Of cornewaile þe duk blederik,
Margadude, kyng of demecie,
With alle his strengh of bachelrie,
And cadwane, kyng of venedoce,
And alle þai might to þam asoce.
Alle þis assemblede and come to gider;
To bangors warde þai hiede þam þider.
Þai yiede againes him on gate
And in bataile with him þai smate.
Þar partise faght, so þai wer wode;
Kyng edelfride þe wer him stode.

188

Gret number of his folk was slane,
And his selfe ful mikel ouertane.
Britons him sare wondede in fight;
Þoru strengh þai put him sone to flight.
Of saxons amede thousandes ten
Sextie and sex slane of his men,
Kyng adelfride selfe wondede sare,
And so forfoghten he moght namar;
And ek his folk so harde was stedde,
He and þai lefte þe felde and fledde.
Of þe britons side slane in bataile
Blederik, þe duk of cornewaile,
Þat ledeseman was forto gouern,
Alle þe britons in fight to lern.

Her was a cord maid and endyng
Of cadwalon and edelfrid þe kyng.

Erels, dukes, kinges, and princes,
Þat wer of þe britons prouinces,
To gider þai gadrede with willes fre
Þare in to legecestres cite.
Þar in þai helde aparlement,
And alle þai wer of ane assent
In to þar kyng to raise cadwan.
And certes with him þai euerilkan
Þai salde with folk þai might number
Chace kyng edelfride ouer humber.

189

Lo, cadwan tok þe diademe,
Þe britons to gouern and yieme.
Þai sagh þai hade A kyng of neu;
Lo, þai bigin to him to seu.
Þai him ensuede, and at þe laste
Ouer humber flode sone þai paste.
Qwen þis to edelfride was talde
Þe britons come on him so balde,
Alle þe kynges of þe saxons
He þam asoste to him essons.
And suo he wendes þam againes
With þam to mete suo in þe plaines.
In felde þai come anens þar lede,
Aiþer redie of oþer haf dede.
And þar batailes, lo, þai stabliste
So in þe beste asise þai wiste.
Qwen aiþer partie was redie sette
And suo in fight þai sulde haf mette,
On aiþer partie forth come frendes
And bituen þam rides and wendes.
On slik couenant þai stabliste pes,
Of str[i]fe and contek þai sulde ces,
Þat ouer humber kyng edelfride
In pes sulde haf alle fra þat tide;
And canwan sulde fra humbres flode
Alle þe landes þat suthwardes stode,
He might purchase and in þam won
And haf in his possession,
Þe name to bere of suth britaine;
Þe toþer sulde noght be þar againe.

190

Þis coue[n]antes stedefaste to halde
Beste of baȝ þe parties wer calde.
On aiþer partie þai sette ostages
Þar haires of maste heritages.
And ek þai confirmed and suare
Sua be stabliste for euer mare.
ffra þus was done and stabliste sene,
Slik [l]of it ras þase kynges bitwene,
Þat aiþer oþer lofede so his broþer,
Þat þe tane had comun [alle] to þe toþer.
Within þase daies it tidde sum tide
Againes þe laugh kyng edelfride
He put fra him his propre wife
And with anoþer to lede his life.
His awne wife þat he put him fra
In his herte he hattede her sua,
And of northumbre he her draf,
Exilde fra him for euer to haf.
Out of his regne so he her waifede,
ffer gane with childe of him consaifede.
And, lo, scho with childe so forth gane
Scho vnto þe kyng cadwan;
Scho him bisoght of his praier
Vnto her lorde, þe kyng, for her
Þat scho, so fer forth gane with childe,
Vnto her lorde wer reconcilde,
His grace to her might he purchaste,
Sen anens him scho noȝ trespaste.
Bot kyng selfe suo schamefullie
Anoþer he helde in awoltrie.

191

Kyng cadwan yiern for her besoght
Her to her lorde againe be broght.
His willes þarofe yiern he assaiede;
To tak his wife ek he him praiede,
And his folies ek he sulde leue;
Anens þe laugh þe trespase was greue.
He sagh wele itte was to spek
Him to ces of his spousebrek,
And þat nane waies he might purchace
Of kyng edelfride her haf grace,
Bot her lorde alwais her forsok.
Cadwan in to his chamber her tok,
Honurable her to sustene
In chambre so with his awne qwene,
Vnto þe tide hir childe was born
Consaiuede of her awne lorde biforn.
And after þate, fone daies ouergane,
A child forsoȝ had kyng cadwan,
Born of his awne wife, þe quene.
ffone daies it wer þar birthes bituen,
Sene þe same time baȝ with child war
And welner suo þar childer bar.
To gider þai souk of womennes briste,
Samen fostrede and ek nuriste.
In fode, in reste, and in vesture
Togider þai wer and ek in cure.
Þe tane, þe kyng cadwanesson,
Þai gaf him þis name cadwallon.
Þe toþer for soȝ edwin þai calde,
Þis names aiforde in worlde to halde.

192

Cadwalon and edwyn regned her
As two broþer full two ȝer.

Þis childre tua þai wox and thrafe
And bigan mar aeld to hafe.
ffrendes of edwin and cadwallon
Sent þam vnto kyng salamon,
Kyng of þe britons amorik,
In his house duelle quiles þai wald lik,
Of cheualrie to lere þe lare,
And of customs of his curte þare,
And of fair thewes in þar yiouthede
To lere how childer þam agh to lede.
Kyng salamon tok þe childer twa,
And in his curte þai bar þam swa,
Þat he þam lofede and had fulder
And to him selfe maste familier,
Þat of þar aelde certes þar wer nane
Þase daies in curte bifor þam tane,
Ne þat with þe kyng mar might do,
Ne mar priue was him vnto,
Neiþer in dedes ne ek in speche,
Of knightes ne oþer princes riche.
Þai gaf þam sone to armes to ride,
Þat in batailes and fightes þat tide
Befor þe kyng was nane þat tim
On his enemies better faght for him.

193

Kyng salomon made þam baȝ knightes
And gaf þam armes vnto þar rightes.
fful ofte þai schewede þar strenȝ in felde;
Nane slik wer fonden of þar aelde.
Þase fame it ras als of prowesse
Amanges alle doghti men to gesse.
On come þe tide so at þe laste
Kyng cadwan of þis warlde he paste.
Þis tua yong knightes þai come againe
Into þe kyngdum of britaine.
Kyng cadwan dede and, lo, his son
ffor him to regne, kyng cadwallon.
And, lo, fone yiers after þat tide
Of þis warld paste kyng edilfride.
After him edwin name þe coron
Þoru right of blode: he was his son.
Kyng cadwalon and kyng edwin
Aiþer þar regnes þar lande wiȝ in
In stedfaste lofe of herte þai duelde
And þe same lofe bituen þam helde,
So þar fadres dide þam bituen.
Tua yiere it durede, noȝ ells to sene,
Aiþer þar hafede oþer ful dere,
Euer to fulli wer paste twa yiere.
So þai had vsede in þar childede,
fforth þai bigan halde it in dede,
Euer vnto hautes and pride
In þam biginnes to spred and wride,
Of erdelik pride þe couaitise
Mak aiþer againes oþer to rise.

194

And yitte sumquile conseile es sene
Mak lof to ces þar frendes suld bene.
Kyng edwin cadwalon assaiede
And of his presens he him praiede.
ffor his wille was vse diademe
At certaine tide so it walde seme;
And mak he walde solempne statuse
Amanges his pople also forto vse,
In northumbre landes partise
His laughes to vse at his auise,
So cadwalon in his kyngdum
Was won to do als þoru custum,
On suthside vmbre vse was sene
And dide þoru custum aunciene.
Kyng cadwalon in willes gode
Was commen to bisid duglas flode.
Þar same spek of þis þai bigan
Sua so þai baȝ assentede þan.
Wise men þai ordaine fulson
How þat alle þis might beste be done.
Kyng cadwalon, þe soȝ to saie,
On þe toþer side þe flode he laie.
His heide bigan he to encline
In to þe knes of his cosine,
So aman to slepine walde;
Brian his cosin name þai calde.
Iqwiles legates and messangers
Bituene þam bare and broght ansuers,

195

To wepe and murn bigan brian;
His eghien þe teres þam ouergan.
So harde þe childe murnede and grete,
Þe teres felle and made alle wete
Þe kynges berde and ek his face.
So grete murnyng þe childe ouergace,
Þat þe water fra his eghien ran
fface and berde alle made wate þan.
Þe kyng felede þis watters burn;
Þarwiȝ sone he bigan to scurn.
He bihelde and sone him vpsette
Þe childes wolt so forth forgrette.
Lo, sone he him beginnes enquere
Qwarfor he made so sorowful cher.
He bade he sulde him naworde laine
Þe cause of his weping sodaine,
Scheu him þe soȝ and naþing spar
Qwarfor and qwi he wepe so sar.

Briane þis counsel þus gaf þe kyng
Edwyn suld noȝ ber dyademe.

Brian ansuerde to him againe:
“Certes I mai wepe, es noȝ to laine,
And sua mai wepe alle þe britons
And alle our kinde in þis warld wons.
Alle our linage for euermar
In herte mai haf gret sorow and care,
Trauailde fra þe tim of malgon
Þoru barbariens irription,

196

And yitte might neuer þe prince purchase
Þat in þis hile might haf þe grace
Þoru him þis hile remeude to be
Vnto þe first forme dignite.
Yitte þis litel honour es lefte
After so grete fra vs es refte,
Yia, now þis litel amanges vs vsede
Þoru þi suffrance it es menusede,
Sen þe saxons, þat er bot gestes,
Þat als tratours amanges vs restes,
Þat euer our tratours has bene,
Treson amanges vs to sustene,
Haf our noblaie, lo, þai bigin,
Our diademe til þam to win,
Of kyng coronde to ber þe name,
In þar contres to haf þe fame,
Þat in þis hile so raisede þai er
Þe diademe on heide to bere.
Rather þai mai bring vs agains
Of þar contres þar citisains.
Sua þai salle stand withouten dout,
Of þis hile our linage put out.
Euer yitte certes þai haf bene won
Agains vs to compasse treson.
Ne neuer bifor þis daies þai walde
Treuȝ vnto our souerains halde.

197

Qware for we suld þam fra vs bring
And ful þam doune in alkins þing
And to na better state þam raise
Als in our right þam for to saise.
Qwen kyng Vortigern þam with helde
And þe saxons firste with him d[ue]lde,
Þai wer with him withouten les,
So it wer in þe vmbre of pes.
Þai bar þam in batailes and fight
Als to maintene þe contres right.
Britons of þam slik treson fande,
Þai loste alle þe dukes of þis lande:
ffour vndreȝ dukes slane and sexti,
Þe kyng hym selfe drifen into cambri.
And euer þai wer to waite and spie
Qwat tide þai might do felonie,
And þan þai yielde ille agains gode,
And in treson so forth þai stode.
To alle þe pople of þis hile
Þa[i] wroght fulgrefe treson and gile.
Againes gode euer dide þai ille,
Durande treson euer to fulfille.
Þai traiste þe kyng aureile ambros
And poisonde him, þe life to los.
After orable athes þai suare
To sla him selfe þai wald noȝ spare.

198

In gret treson, als forto think,
Þai gaf him venum for to drink.
Þai sloȝ him and vter, his broþer,
Þoru treson þam and many oþer.
Yitte in þar wekide treson to dure
Þai traiste þe noble kyng arthur,
Qwen þai with his cosin modrede
Agains right in his helpe yiede,
Qwen þai als in þar laughes forsuorn,
Agains right stabliste biforn,
Agains arthur þai faght in felde,
Treson agains treuȝ to yielde.
Sen after alle tresons slik and slik
Þar treuȝ þai brak to kyng catrik,
Qwen þai him falselie broght to grunde
Þoru helpe of affrikes kyng gormunde.
Þe kyng gormunde on him þai broght;
Grete harmes on our linage þai wroght.
Þai wroght þam so gret vnquiete,
Þat alle þai broght vs vnder fete.
Þai made vs alle to life in dout,
Kyng catrik of þis hile put oute.
Alle our linage so out þai drafe,
Þe beste contres þam self to hafe.”
And quen þat brian had saide sua,
Þis wordes and slik oþer ma,
Kyng cadwalon forþoght fulsone
Alle þat bifor was spoken and done.

199

To kyng edwin fulson he sent
And said in his comun parlement:
On nankins [wise] he might purchace
Of his conseilours haf slik grace,
Þat suffer þai wald for nakins þing
ffor to assent til his hasking.
Þai saide þe right for to maintene
In þis hile it was neuer sene
Of a coron part it in tua,
Þis hile in thraldum be sette sua.
In alle þe daies ar paste and gane
Þis hile hade neuer coron bot ane.

Cadwalon was drifen his reine fro,
Kyng edwyn gaf hym bataille so.

Fulwraȝ was þan þe kyng edwin
Kyng cadwalon suld sua bigin
In his coron for to do lette;
His desturbance at noght he sette.
Cadwalon dueld nalangre þare;
Edwin with him wald spek namar.
In to northumbre kyng edwin went;
He gaf na mar of his assent,
ffor him, he saide, he wald noȝ lette
Þe diademe on hiede to sette.
He sent him worde þat neuer he roght
Qweþer it wer his assent oþer noght.
He com to þe cite of eborwik,
And solempned, so his self wald lik,
On his heide he name þe coron
Withouten assent of cadwalon.

200

He said so forth euer vse he salle
At his wille diademe regale.
Kyng cadwalon he herde fulsone
Tald him how kyng edwin had done.
Cadwalon to edwin againe
Sent þus bi legates certaine
Þe diademe þat he salle leue,
Elles wald it be to him fulgreue;
ffor elles he walde it fra him tak,
Þoru strenȝ mak him britaine forsak.
He sulde noȝ suffer durande his quile
Him corond within brataines hile.
Na coron he bade þat he sulde bere;
Leue it þoru fors he sulde him gere.
So bituen þam ras gret descorde,
Neiþer walde do for oþer worde.
And within þatte his men and hisse
Þoru trespas done ful ofte of misse,
And ofte þai mette and same faght,
And aiþer of oþer gret harmes laght.
Aiþer folk for oþer yiemede þar bundes,
And fulgrete harmes þai tok ofte stundes.
And, lo, it tide with willes thra
To felde fellie com þase kynges tua:
Kyng cadwalon with his britons
And alle in his subgection wons,
With his ostes he gadrede so grete,
Ouer vmbre contres edwin to threte;
And kyng edwin with strenȝ anogh
With gret willes agains him drogh.
On northside vmbre to gider þai mette;
Þar batailes sone samen þai sette.

201

fful harde þai faght durand wele lang,
So ilke man oþer to þe grunde dang.
Lang was or þai of fight wald stint,
Kyng cadwalon þe felde he tint.
Many thousandes of men he loste,
Nedelinges his selfe to flight he moste.
So harde in fight his self was stedde,
Vnnes awaie northward he fledde
Sumquile bi strete, sumquile bi stie;
So he tok in to albanie.
Bot þar na lang recete he fande;
He paste to þe hile of hirlande.
ffra kyng edwin þe victor wan,
Slane in felde so many a man,
Welraȝ, lo, he his ostes ledde
In suth britaine fra stedde to stedde,
Þoru out alle þe britons contres
Sette fire in fele of þe cites,
Destroide and sloȝ þe citisaines
And þe tilȝmen wer him againes.
Gretelie he þam derede and noiede
And alle þar godes waste and destroiede.
Qwiles he was so cruel þat qwile,
Kyng cadwalon als in exile
He gat him strenȝ and ek nauie
In his contres for to applie.
fful ofte to rife certes he biginnes,
Bot neuer he might entre winnes.

202

Qwat hafen so he arife bigan,
Edwin to turne agains him ran.
Edwin, þat euer on him ensude,
Com with his so grete multitude,
Þe portes and þe entres forsette;
So him to entre ofte siþes he lette.
To him was comen a wiche fulwise,
Þat mikel cuth of diuerse sorcerise,
Comen of þe landes of hispaine,
Of þinges to cum bifor to saine.
Þis ilke mages, pellite he hight,
He cuth knau þoru foghles flight
And ek yitte þoru þe curs of sternes
Of þinges comande slik signes him wernes.
And suo þoru his craftie wisedum
He talde þe kynge alle þinges to cum.
Sua euer quen þe kyng cadwalon
Suld arife, so he was won,
Pellite sone of his comyng he talde.
Kyng edwin suo certaine and balde
At þe hafens sone him againe stode,
Periste his fers in cees flode,
And turnede him so at þe bank,
Þat mikel of his nauie he sank.

Kyng edwyn was conuertyd her
And toke þe fayth with ful gud scher.

With in þase daies þe kyng edwin
Þoru miracle and wordes of saint paulin,
His selfe and mikel of his kyngdum,
To þe trouȝ of iesum criste þai cum.
Of kyng edwin þe acheson
Made him treu in iesum goddesson:

203

In missetroght firste his life he ledde;
A cristen maiden he couaitede to wedde,
Wedde edelberg was iolden his herte,
Þe kynges doghter, adelberte.
To eadbalde, þe kyng of kente,
Her to hask certes legates he sente.
Bot her broþer, þe kyng eadbalde,
Againes þe mariage he talde.
To þe legates he ansuerde and saiden:
An paigien and an cristen maiden
Mai noȝ acorde, aknawen it is,
Þe sacriment for to vilis.
Bot kyng edwin grauntede þar wille,
Þe maiden to haf, for to fulfille.
Sua þoru a corde stabliste and sette
Kyng edwin in naþing sulde lette
Þe maiden and alle þat with her won
To halde þe cristen religion.
So he her tok þat him was dere
Als of his regne in þe neghende yiere.
Archebischope iuste of cantorbir
Sacrede paulin and sent with hir
Þe cristen men in treuȝ to yieme
In her curt du[e]lde, so it walde seme,
And oþer if any man walde cum
ffra þe false trouȝ to cristendum.
Þat time kyng edwin, so men saide,
With kyng of westesex he werraide.
To saint paulin he sware and hight,
Vencus his fas if þat he might,
Þe kyng of westesex, quintolin,
Þe landes in werre to him to win
Þoru helpe of criste, he suld noȝ targe
In criste to trou with willes large.
ffeght with þat kyng fulmikel he dredde
ffor þe grete strenȝ he with him ledde.

204

Kyng of westesex againes him standes
Of armed men with many thousandes.
In felde mette kyng edwin and he;
fful eger bataile þar was to se.
Bot kyng edwin þe maistrie wan
And grete periles aschapede þan.
In felde he sloȝ kyng quintolin,
And alle þe regne he cesede him in.
Kyng edwin so ioyful and glade
Purchaste to him þe regne he hade.
To his contre he comes againe,
Of treuȝ ek he walde be certaine.
Paulin iquiles of iesum prechede;
To mikel folk þe trouth he techede.
Þe kyng consaile of wisemen tok,
Alle his mallmettrise he forsok.
Alle slik figurs, falsegoddes, idoles
In fire he keste and brinde to coles.
He pupliste his confession:
He trowede in iesum goddesson.
With saint paulin he him auisede,
And on paskedaie he was baptisede,
Dai nexte bifore aprile calendes,
With þe worschipe þarto apendes.
Þe yires of date þat tim it stode
ffra goddes son tok fleis and blode
Sex vndreȝ and twenti and seuen
And of his regne yieres elleuen.
Þat daie with him, lo, alle þe princes,
Dukes and knightes of his prouinces
To iesum criste, lo, þai þam turne
And cristenede wer in watres burne.
And siþen so forth daie bi daie
Tak cristendum yiern fluede þaie,
Þoru þe prechung of saint paulin
Þe rene of heuen als for to win.

205

And þar in eborwikes cite
A temple was he had wroght of tre
In þe worschipe of siluer maulmettes,
Qwilk he for false and vaine arettes.
Sone he þam out of temple keste.
He dide it sacre and made honeste,
Mare solempne, better and sweter,
Als in þe worschipe of saint peter.
And he gaf ane archebischopes see,
In þat ilke kirk stabliste to be,
To be þe toþer aenglandes primate,
Confermede in alle þe aunciene state,
Confermede of þe apostoile of rome,
His pallion fra þeþen to come.
ffra vmbre north to cathenes ce
Alle sulde be to his dignite.
A bischope sete siþen dide þai wirk
Bi north at lindi[s]farnes kirk,
Anoþer suffragan þe same
In þe kirk of escoldes hame.
In scoce wer ten bischopes ses
Ordainde bifor in sere contres.

Cadwalon was sek in bed lay doun,
Hym langed sor after venyson.

Cadwalon kyng, of regne drifen out,
Qwat he sulde do he was in dout.
Welnere he was fallen in despair
In to britaine for to repair.
Sua in þis þoght fel cadwalon:
He walde sek to kyng salamon,
Kyng of þe britons amorik,

206

Scheu him his auentours slik and slik,
Praie him of helpe and of consaile
In his cas tidde how him to vaile,
Þoru qwatkins crafte he might best cum
Entre to haf til his kingdum.
fforto fulfille he in herte keste
Þar schipes þai apparaild and dreste.
Þai sette þar vailes, þe soȝ to saine,
Towardes amorik britaine.
Als þai wer on cees streme,
Tempestes ras so rude and breme.
Þe windes was so rud and store,
With þar nauie to wondre it fore.
Þe wedres þam draf alto wondre:
Ilk schipe fra oþer diuisede sondre;
Alle maner confortes fra þam refte;
Noght a schipe was with oþer lefte.
Yia, within tidde so breue and schorte
Alle wer þai stedde in descomforte,
Sua þat þar schipes gouernour
Naþing he cuth durande þe stour.
So forth stedde in periles and dredde
His schipe he ne cuth gouerne ne ledde.
He lefte alle maner of gouernaile,
Godde do his wille, noȝ ells miȝ vaile.
So þai of dede wer in perile
Of alle þe night durand þe quile,
Now here, now þar on ces flode;
Þe wedres fore so þai wer wode.

207

Þe daie ensuande on þe morn
An hile aperide þam þar biforn.
Arelie it was on þe morn tidde,
To þat ilke hile, lo, þai applidde—
Garnarcie þat hile was calde—
Recette þarin purchase þai walde.
fful grete trauaile þai had þat stunde,
Or þai might gete on þe harde grunde.
Kyng cadwalon to þe lande yede,
So grete sorow sone him occupede,
Murning he made and sorowful ch[er]s
ffor losing of his bachelers.
ffor murning of his doghti knightes
Durande thre daies and thre nightes
Metes and drinkes alle he forsok;
Namaner of fode þase daies he tok.
Þar seke he laie and helde þe bede
Als in sorow and sekenes stede,
And so in slik maladie laie.
Lo, sone it tidde in þe fourt daie
He hade in him couaitise grete
Of wilde venison to ete.
Brian welraȝ to him he calde
And said þat wilde fleis haf he wald;
He langed after wilde venison.
Qwen þus hade saide kyng cadwalon,
Welson, lo, his cosin brian
He name his bogh and ek his flan

208

And suo þoru out þe hile he soght
If chance to him wald offre oght.
He soght of saluagine to spede,
If cas walde him þat daie oght bede.
He soght wel lang now her now þer,
Bot chance him bede namaner of dere.
Of alle þat quile he hade na grace
ffode til him forto purchace.
Qwen he hade alle þe hile þoru gane
And of wilde bestes he fande nane,
ffulgret anguis to him he thought
Þe þing he soght finde he ne might,
Þat nakins chance wald to him bring
His lorde to succour in langing.
Dede of his lorde to cum he dredde,
Haf his desires if he ne spedde,
If he might noght his lorde wille
In his hasking þat tim fulfille
To filsen his lorde apetite,
ffor qwame his self had sorow and site.
Of new craftes so for to carpe,
He name a knife þat was ful scharpe.
He schare A wel grete pes of fleisse
Sone of his awn the so freisse.
To roste he put it on A spitte
So venison wer, þe soȝ to witte.
Be for þe kyng, lo, he it broght
ffor venison he after soght,

209

Rosten sowil on þe fire,
fforto fulfille þe kinges desire.
Þe kyng it amede fleise of wilde dere;
He ete þar of with ful gode chere.
Qwen he him hafede so þarwith filde
And eten als mikel so his self wilde,
Him thoght þe fleise so te[n]der and swete,
So noble mete ete he neuer yiette.
Awondres, he saide, slik swetenese
In nankins oþer fleis it esse.
He suar neuer ar in nakins lande
So gode ne tender fleis he fande.
ffra he hade eten of þis neu fode,
It turnede him to so mikel gode,
Þat sone he recouerde his might
And bicom of his limes so light,
Sua þat after þe daies thre,
Hale man and far forsoȝ was he.

[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

Sone afterwarde þe windes bleu;
Þe mariners able tides kneu.
Þar schipes armentes þai apparailde,
And on hegh ce, lo, forth þai sailde.
Þai sprede þar vaile, and on cees flode
Windes and wedres to willes þam stode.
Redie to rife on ce þai flete
To þe cite of kidalete.

210

Þai come to kyng salomon
And schewede to him þar acheson;
And he forsoȝ, lo, quen þai cam,
With gret honur resaiuede þam.
Qwen he of þam had alle enquerede
Qwarfor to him þai þan aperede
And qwat acheson þam to him drafe
Helpe of him and his landes to crafe,
Helpe and succour anens his right
In slik wordes, lo, he him hight:
“In your iouthede, yie bachelers,
Þat þus to me now ere apers,
Grete dole of yow and deshonurs,
Þe contres of your antecessours
In your daies yie suffer mise ledde,
With barbariens so forth ouer spredde,
Þat yie and your pople þis quile
Sulde lose so plentiuouse an hile,
And þat yie maie noȝ againe stande
Þe aenglise folk on yow comande;
Qwilk aenglise our folk haldes so vile,
Þat euer has wroght falsede and gile.
Qwen þe folk of þis my britaine
With your britons, so es certaine,
In your britaine þai samen wonede,
Alle þe hiles about þai derede and stonede.

211

Lordeschipe þai hade of gret and smale,
Of alle kingdomes prouinciale.
It was þase daies na nacion
Might bring þam in subgection
Bot þe romains, þat on þam cum
And broght þam sumquile in thraldum.
Romains þof þai þoru fraude and gile
Hade þam als in thraldum sumquile,
Þai lefte þar in þar emperours,
Slane ofte siþes þar gouernours,
And sua with deshonour and schame
Out casten þai ware and shame.
Bot after þat siþen maximiane
With dukes and knightes manyane
And conan with oþer fele princes
Wer comen and entrede þase prouinces,
Þe resideu, so yitte men ses,
Þat lefte after in your contres
Amanges þam þai had neuer grace
ffor durande tim defende þar place,
Ne forto maintene far and wele
Þar diademe continu[e]le.
Þof fele princes of þam haf bene
Þat fuldoghti men prouede wer sene
Þat slik power and strenȝ gadres,
Þai helde þe dignite of þar fadres,
After þam comes oþer ma fleble aires;
ffor þar negligens alle appaires.

212

Þai bere þam misse and so biginnes
Þat þar enemise opon þam rinnes.
So in þar daies sone þai tine þan
Alle þar renoune þar aeldres wan.
Qwar forth in herte grete dole I haf
Þat yie mai noȝ your selfen saf.
And ek fulgret sorow yitte it es
Now of your pople durande febles,
Sen we and yie, þof we seme twine,
Alle er we comen als of A kin,
Alle er we named and cald britons,
Baȝ þai and we þat here wons,
Þof þai sumquile be halden kene
Þar diademe for to maintene,
And sumquile þai of erde er drifen
Als outcastins elles qware to lifen.
Gret dole I hafe anens þar lede
Þat þai so ofte ere chancede to nede.
Þai suffer þam selfe be made so pouer
Þat of þam selfe es na recouer.
Lo, þis folk now þat yie here se
Þat wones here in þis weste contre
And alle þe landes about þam ere
Hafes þam in hate and wille þam dere.
Bot euer manli þai againe stande
And maintens þe right of þis lande.
Sua suld þai do [a]nens þam þare.
Gret sorow I haf of þar misfair.”

213

Of þe answer her of cadwalon
How he said to kyng salamon.

Qwen salamon king had finiste
And saide als mikel so him liste,
Lo, þe kyng cadwalon bi name
Of his wordes sumdele he þoght schame
Alle toched his nacion he herde.
A gaine to him þus he ansuerde:
“Manyfalde thank and gret louing
Be now to þe, my lorde kyng.
ffor we er comen of antecessours
Þou has me grantede help and succours.
Þou has me hight now þus bifor
Into my regne me to restore.
Þat þou has saide þe þink gret wondre
Mi folk so feble and so mikel vnder,
Þat þoru þam mai noȝ sauede be
Our antecessours grete dignite
After þe britons firste comen ware
In to þase noble contres þar,
Nawondre me þink ne na ferlik.
ffor firste wer gode and siþen nan slik.
ffirste to þat hile calde albion
Come noble dukes þarin to won.
Þar dukes wer gode and noble and treu,
Þe pople with willes þam to ensu;
Siþen þar vnworthi after þam du[e]lde
And in þar honours þai þam helde.

214

Qwen þai haf þe noblaie wer sene
Of þam þat so noble men had bene,
Þai bare þam etheer þan þai salde,
Better þan þar dignite walde;
And for richesses þai had þat tide
Þai bigan sone to rise in pride.
Nane oþer thewes wald þam lik
Bot fornicacion slik and slik.
Sum in slik fleisselie willes with ferde
Amanges þe pople was neuer herde.
And als in stories saide gildas
Many foule vices amanges þam was,
Bot alkins vices in þam to dur,
Þa[t] won es to der mannes natur.
And maste yitte in þat vice þai stode
Þat turnes þe state of alkins gode,
Suthfastnes in dedes to hate,
Agains þe right to mak debate,
Lofe of leghes and losengours,
Of lesinges to be maintenours.
Þai vnderfang þe ille for gode
fforto mainten anens þar mode.
Wikedenese þai worschipe in dede
And vses it als for blissedhede.
Þai accepte als anens þar might
Sathanas for þe angel of light.
Þai anoigne þar kinges wilfullie
Noght in worschipe of godde mighti.

215

Bot him þai suffer in kyng to duelle
Amanges þe pople es maste cruelle.
Siþen on him comes sone afterwarde
Victours and fightes on him ful harde,
Noght for þe sogh to eximine;
Til he be slaine neuer mare þai [f]in.
If any of þam be mar meke
Oþer mare to sothfastenes wil seke,
On slik a man þai sal begin
Als on britaines tratour to rin.
Þai salle him haf in fulgret hate
Amanges þam sone him to abate.
So þat al þinges to gode quemede
Oþer mise likede or noȝ gode semede,
Anens þam alle alike it yiede.
Of gode him selfe hade þai na dredde.
Þai tok na kepe to gode ne ille,
Bot ane þai hade þar awne wille.
And so alle þinges þai with dele
It was agains þar awne hele.
Haf medicines certes nane þai soght
Of þe suthfaste leche þat alle has wroght.
And noght anelie men seculer
Gifes þam to slik in þis warlde her,
Bot goddes hirdes in halikirkes
Þe same amanges þam þai wirkes.

216

Þerfor nawonder certes it esse
In ilkemannes herte for to gesse
Þof slik men haf bot graces fone
Þat slik trespas to gode has done,
And lose and tine sal þe noble hile
Þat filed er þoru trespas so vile.
ffor þai wald noȝ þar sinnes leue
Godde walde of þam tak vengeance greue.
He suffrede strange folk opon þam cum
And putte þam out of þar kyngdum.
Þai priued þam of propre feldes
And of alle þat þam frutes yieldes.
Þat godde his selfe worthi it ware
Walde suffer his citisaines namar
Durande our daies restorde to be
In our so fair forme dignite,
If we wer so feble gouernours,
Þat quiles our daies in þis warlde dours
To trauaile we wald noȝ bigin
Our awn heritage to win.
And þine antecessours bifor þe
Þe ferde fadres þai wer to me.
Þarfor in þi helpe I me afie
And I haske it mar ensurelie.
ffor malg, þe grete kyng of britaine,
After arthur þe ferde for certaine
He was þat regnede in kinges cur,
And tua sones hade he in gendur.

217

Ennian certes hight his a sone
And þe toþer he was cald rone.
Ennian after his broþers obite
Out of þe hile he was put quite
Þoru vnquiete of þe saxons,
Þat euer þam suo deres and stons.
Þan he soght in to þis contre.
His doghter to duk hoel gafe he,
Þat was þe grete kyng hoel son,
Als in his mariage to won,
Qwilk grete hoel in fightes to dure
So lang was with þe kyng arthure.
Yia, þoru his helpe so many landes
Wer broght in to kyng arthres handes.
Of her þe kyng alan was born
Of qwam forsoȝ es talde biforn.
And of alan, þe soȝ to spel,
Come þi fader þe kyng hoel.
He quiles he lifede bar him in dede
So þat alle france of him had dredde”.

Bryane her he passes þe ce
And in to brittane þan come he.

Alle winter cadwalon þar duelde.
With king salamon he him helde.
And twen þam þai tok consaile
Againes [þam] mai how beste to vaile.
Lo, þis þam þoght consail gode:
Brian suld passe þe cees flode
Into britaine, þar him avise
On sumkins maner of quaintise.

218

Preuelie he might be spiande sua
Kyng edwines mages þat he might sla,
Þe mages þat he ne suld certainlie
Þoru his customable artes craftie
To edwin scheu, so he was won,
Þe comyng of kyng cadwalon.
Lo, briane sone passede þe ce,
In porte hamon arifede he.
He dide fra him his vestur þan
And cledde him als a pouerman.
So a pouerman, lo, he him feignede,
In aelde ragges he him demeignede,
Namar of godes with him to haf
Bot astalword gode aken staf
With iren hopes and bunden fulwele,
Bifor fulscharpe of grunde of stele,
Qwarwith þe mages sua sla he salde,
If cas þarto him offer walde.
ffra þeþen he went to eborwik,
forqui þe comun speche was slik
Kyng edwin in þat cite wonde
And of þat yiere hade done gret stonde.
To eborwik cite he cam,
Þe waie to þe kynges yiatte he nam.
Within þe kinges yiates he gatte
And assocede with pouermen he satte.

219

Als an of þam, lo, he him made,
Þat after almus satte and abade.
He helde him [in] pouermens routh
Sumquile within, sumquil withouth.
His sistre was fra þe halle comande;
Scho hade a bacin in her hande,
A bacin fair of siluer to sene,
Water to feche vnto þe quene.
Edwin had her rauiste biforne
Out of þe cite of Wigorn,
Qwen he put cadwalon to flight
And him enchacede out of his right,
Hider and þider fra þe cites
Drafe him out of britons contres.
Lo, so he paste bifor briane
And he her sagh bifor him gane,
Welraȝ forsoȝ he kneu her þan,
And to wepe sone he bigan.
He spiede þe tide qwat tide he salde
And with lagh voice, lo, he her calde.
And at þe wordes so lagh he saiden,
Her face to him turnede þe maiden
And firste forsoȝ in dout was scho
Qwat man he was spak her vnto.
Bot ner him yitte scho yiede and drogh;
He was her broþer scho kneu anoȝ.
Awondred scho was how he com þar,
And ek in herte scho dredde fulsar

220

Þat any of þe oþer suld him knau,
Out passande þe pouermennes raw,
Sua of famen he to be tane
And ek þoru vile tormentes be slane.
fforsoȝ noþer of þam oþer kiste,
ffor of him þai walde naman wiste.
And sua with wordes familiere
With lagh voice, naman to here,
So scho hade spoken alle of oþer,
Scho schewed to brian, her broþer,
Alle his haskinges, lo, scho him telles,
So it wer of sum oþer þinges elles,
Of þe curte schewede him þe state,
And of pellite alle þat scho wate.
Scho techede him to pellites face;
He þan þoru chance was in þe place.
He yiod amanges pouermen to range,
Þat gadred wer baȝ cuth and strange,
Qwiles þai þe kynges almus suld dele,
To steghtil þase pouermen so fele.

Her was þe maght of edwynes sclane
Be þe hand of þis knyght bryane.

Lo, briane quen he had knawing
Of þe mages with edwin þe kyng,
Yia, fra þat he wele knew þe man,
So priue he bade his sister þan
Þat scho suld cum to him þat night
On anikins wais so þat scho might,

221

And fra þe qwen scho sulde her fele
And sone out of her chambir stele
And cum without þe cite walles
Bi þe aelde temple þat creues and falles—
Þar sulde he be in A creuesse
Þat in þat walle creuede esse,
Her comyng þar for to abide—
Hie her to him in þe heuen tide.
He yiode and helde him siþen amang
Þe pouermen, þat was gadred so thrang,
Yia, in to þe same stede to gesse
Þat pellite hade forto adresse.
Euer he biheld vnto pellite
And spiede þe tide quen him to smite,
And quen he sagh þat he so m[u]ght
Gif him a knok also him þught,
He raisede þe burdun þat he bare,
And pellite sone he smate fulsare,
Vnder þe briste gaf him a stab,
Of þat dint þe dede to ab.
Anoþer he gaf him on þe hiede
And dede certaine so he him leuede.
Of his hande he keste þe burdon;
He roght namar qwat þarof wordon.
Amanges oþer he sculkede awaie;
Qwar he bicom naman cuth saie.
Þe stafe þai fand, þe man þai miste;
Þar was naman þat his nam wiste.

222

Naman cuth saie qwat man him slogh.
Briane sone of þe cite drogh;
He paste þe yiates of eborwik
To þe alde temple beside þe dik.
Þar he abade so he hade hight,
Bot his sister of alle þat night
Of chambir scho ne might aschape
Þof scho were neuer so waker and yiape.
ffor kyng edwin of willes so thra
ffor þe dede of pellite slane sua
Sette þe waches of his ostes
About þe curt at alle costes,
So straite to spie alle þe posternes,
Þat alle þe issues þai her warnes.
Qwen briane vnderfand þat tim
Bi nane waies scho might cum to him,
Þat stedde be night, lo, he forsok,
And suthwarde yiern þe waies he tok
Priue fra eborwikes cite;
Welraȝ to excestre com he,
Þar þe britons to gider be calde,
Aschorte consaile with þam to halde.
Lo, þai to him assemblede sone;
He talde þam alle how [he] hade done.
To cadwalon he sent his sandes
To bring him þe certaine tiþandes,
To scheu in britaine amorike
How he hade spedde in eborwik.
Briane in excestre he abade;
His duelling certes in he made.

223

And þat cite wele he warniste.
Help was comande he kneu and wiste.
He bade vnto alle þe britons,
To alle þe lorde amanges þam wons,
Þai sulde warnis alle þe castells,
Alle þe cites britons in duells;
Cadwallanes come þai sulde abide;
ffor faste he was comande þat tide.
He bade þam be ioyful and glade;
Certaine of his comyng þai hade:
He sulde cum within tides breue
With strenȝ alle, þar famen to greue,
Þoru helpe of salamon, þe kyng;
fful strenȝful sulde be his comyng.
Þis was pupliste within schort quile
To alle wer in britaines hile.
Lo, of mercherie kyng peandas,
Qwen he herde tiþandes how it was,
Sone he with fulgret multitude
Of þe saxons þat him ensude
He come to excestres cite,
Briane þarin asegede he.
Þe cite he segede alle about
Þat naman might cum in ne out.
Briane with þase þat with him duelde
Þe cite, lo, þai againes him helde.

224

Edwyn was ded withoutyn dout,
Þe saxons sclane alle þe land about.

Rathlie kyng cadwalon þat tide
Into britaine, lo, he aplide
With ten thousandes of armede knight,
So þe king salamon þam hight.
With alle þe oste he with him broght
Vnto þe sege welsone he soght.
To excestre so swiȝ he tight
With kyng peandas þar to fight,
Sen þe sege þar he helde so straite,
Welner þe sege for to esplaite.
Qwen he aprochede þe cite nere,
His enemies oste to se and her,
His knightes he diuises and deles
And seittes þam in four batailes.
And sua it war noȝ lang to lette,
Aiþer oste on oþer ful harde þai sette.
Lo, harde fightand to gider þai yiode;
Þe felde with cadwalon it stode.
Peandas kyng his selfe was tane
And alle his oste alsone was slane.
fforsoȝ of þam aschapede fone.
Suo þe sege was deliuerde sone.
Qwen peandas was in þar handes,
He sagh þe victoire with þam standes,
He failede strenȝ with þam to strife;
Nane oþer waie to safe his life:
In þar willes, lo, he him sette,
To cadwalon bicome subgette.

225

To life and die with him he suare,
His man to be for euer mare,
His landes to halde, do him seruage.
He gafe and sette him gode ostage:
His aeldeste childe, þat was his aire,
With oþer ioelles so fele and fair.
And þat fulson he suar and hight
Againe þe saxons for þam fight,
With him to bring þam vnderfete,
Alle his daies mak þam vnquiete.
Qwen þe kyng of marcherie, peandas,
Vencuste to him þus suore he was,
Kyng cadwalon þan dide he calle
Of þe bischopes þe soueraines alle.
To him schewede þai albidene,
Þat lan[g] tides sparpliste hade bene.
Vnto northumbre welraȝ he soght;
A fulgret oste he with him broght.
On kyng edwin he brak þe pes;
To brin and slae he walde noȝ ces.
He werrede þus on kyng edwin,
Contres destroie and sla and brin.
Qwen þis to kyng edwin was talde
Þat cadwalon with willes so balde
Was comen enterande within his fes
And bigan destroie his contres,
Againes him hastelie he walde,
Alle þe englise kinges to him he calde,
And alle he þam to him asoste.
Sone he assemblede a fulgret oste,

226

And in þe soile es calde heddefelde
Þar he þam mette bataile to yielde.
With þe britons, lo, þar he mette,
And sone to fight same þai sette.
ffulharde in felde same þai faght,
And many aman þe dede þar laght.
Þe kyng edwin þat daie was slane
And alle his pople welner ilkane.
Of alle his men he with him hafede
Welfone fleande þat daie wer safede.
And ek his aeldeste son osfride
In þe bataile was slane þat tide.
Þe kyng of orchadie, godebalde,
Þat in þar helpe to þam was calde,
In felde with oþer was slane þat tim
And many a knight þat come [with] him.
Lo, þis was done als in þe yiere
Þat goddeson come to þis warld her
Sex vndreȝ and thritti and thre,
Bi date of criste þe numbre to se.
Þe maistrie wan kyng cadwalon.
Sone after quen he þus hade done,
He destroiede þoru out aenglande
Þe saxons he bifor him fande.
He paste alle prouinces and schires
In foles willes and desires.
Alle þe englise folk he dide to suerde;
He sparede noþer laude ne lerde.
So feloneslie he wroght þan,
He sparede noiþer woman ne man.

227

Ne childer smale walde he nan spar
Bot sloȝ þam qwat aelde so þai war.
In slik willes was kyng cadwalon,
Þat alle þe aenglise nacion
Slane and destroied sulde be clene,
Neuer after nane onlife be sene,
Sua þat þai alle wer flemed and slane
Out of þe contres of britaine.
Alle þe anglise þat fonden miȝ be,
Broght in to þe kynges sight to se,
Vilie in slaghtre with þam he ferde;
Griselie tormentes neuer nan slik herde.

Cristen fayth in west saxe come þar in
Thorouȝ þe prechyng of saint beryn.

Pauline, primat of eborwik,
Sagh sorow and slaghtre enchrest slik:
Þe kyng edwin in bataile slane,
Britons þe contres alle ouergane.
Edelberge þe quen he toke,
Out of þe north with her he schok.
He sagh na pes schape þat quile;
He durste noȝ leue her in perile,
fforqui he was her wardaine made,
And her als in yieming he hade
B[a]ȝ þoru her lorde and þoru her frendes.
Þerfor suthwarde with her he wendes.
Als in to contres of kent
With naui fra eborwik he went
Vnto her broþer, þe kyng edbalde;
Duel in þe north na langre þai walde.
Þai sagh þe folk felons and curste;
Duel amanges þam certes þai ne durste.

228

After edwin in anguise slik
Als nexte of blode regnede osrik.
Osrik to him gret folk assoste,
So he assemblede a fulfair oste
Of englis and of scotes and pecthes,
And with kyng cadwalon he fightes.
Kyng cadwalon in felde he faght
With alle his knightes sette and taght
Opon osrik, kyng of northumbre.
Of folk was slane fulgret numbre.
Þe kyng osrik in felde he sloȝ,
And alle his folk to flight þai droȝ.
He sloȝ his tua sons þat tim,
Þat suld hafe bene kynges after him,
And oþer knightes manyane.
He sloȝ þe kyng of scotes, edane,
Þat come out of his kyngrik
In helpe and succour of osrik.
Osrik in fight þe life he leuede,
Or euer he [n]a[m] coron on hiede,
His heritage for to defende;
Peandas sloȝ him with his hende.
Qwen dede was osrik and edane
And after so mikel folk was slane,
Þan rase þe noble kyng oswalde,
So nexte of blode þoru right he salde.
Of northumbre he nam coron
To regne so his aeldres was won.

229

Saint berin þas daies þan
In westesex prechede goddes wordes bigan,
Of cristes comyng þe date to ta
Sex vndreȝ thrittie and tuise tua.
Þe nighien and thrittide iere to stent
Saint augustine com in to kent,
Saint berin in to westesex com;
He calde þe pople to cristendom.
Þan of westesex alle þe saxons
Þas in þe weste als fra kent wons,
Þat þas daies gewise wer calde,
Cum alle to cristendum þai walde.
Þoru þe teching of saint berin
To rightwise troght þai wald enclin.
Þase daies regnede þe kyng kenekille;
Þe troght he tok with ful gode wille
Þoru berin wordes and doctrin,
Þat sent was, him to troght to win,
ffra þe pape of rome honorion
Of mannes saul for saluacion.
Saint berin come, þe soȝ to saine,
In to þase partise of britaine,
Þat in errour yitte hofed and duelde.
Þe troght of criste he prechede and spelde.
Mikel of westesex, þe pople iewise,
Out of errour he made þam rise,
And to right troght he þam conuerte,
Til iesum criste he turnede þar herte.
Þe kyng kengille cristendum nam
And alle þe princes þat with him cam
And contre folk withouten numbre.
Þat daies þe kyng of northumbre,
Oswalde, in to westesex he soght,
And oþer godemen with him he broght,
Þe kinges doghter kengille to wedde;
At dorcestre assignede þe stedde

230

Þar he þoru saint berin gifte
Þe kyng kengille of watre he lifte;
And suo his hasking to fulfille
He weddede þe kynges doghter kengille,
To life in þe laughes of Iesum criste;
Berin solempnede office of priste.
Lo, baȝ þis kynges with willes fre
Þai gaf in dorcestres cite
In cristes worschipe to saint berin
A bischopes see þar to bigin.
Saint berin þar was sacred prelate,
Of þam to haf spiritual state.
Kirkes he raises, alters he settes,
He destroies phanes and alle malmettes.
Þar alle his daies with willes bousum
Þe pople he preched of cristendum.
He traualde iern in dede and steuen
Þe folk to sette in waies to heuen.

Oswald, þat blissed kyng þan,
Sent for aydane þat hooly man.

Oswalde come hame in to his lande;
His folk in diuerse troght he fande:
Sum wer paigiens, and sum wer cristen,
Ilke men lifede so þam selfe listen.
Amanges þam he fande na doctour
Þat cuth þam bring out of errour.
Saint paulin fra þam he was went
And tok his duelling stedde in kent.
After him he lefte iacob, his clerk,
Þe pople to teche of gastelie werk.
Iacob in eborwik him held,
Þe troght to safe yern he him melde.
He held him mikel in þe cite,
ffor na pes was in þe contre.

231

Saint oswalde ses his folk misfair
fforqwi þai wanted gasteli lair,
Þe troght periste and welner schent.
In to scotelande welraȝ he sent
To sek þar in agode wiseman
Þat wele þe cristen laughes can,
His folk to teche in þis warlde here
How right to life, of criste to lere.
And of þase scotes of birth wer maste
An holiman, lo, he purchaste.
Lo, þai to him sent saint aydan,
Better in þar lande hade þai nan,
An haliman rightwise and gode,
Þat goddes laughes wele vnderstode,
Bischope bousum and a tempre,
Of saint life and of gret pite.
Þe kyng oswald him gaf þat quile
A see in lindisfarnes hile.
Bischop aydan þe pople he prechede,
And in his tong þe troght he techede
Baȝ to pouermen and ek to riche.
Bot þai vnderstode noȝ his speche.
He was man of scotes linage,
He cuth noȝ wele aenglise langage.
Þerfor þe kyng, so fair to se,
Biside him stode with willes fre.
Þe wordes he harde of þe bischopes muth,
Als man þat diuerse speches cuth,
After him he schewed þam with god cher
Þat alle his folk þam might her.
ffor þe kynges edwines successours
Þai fel in missetroght and errours.
So dide folk in þe north contre were,
ffel in apostasie welnere.
Þe troght so yiode to apairement.
Þarfor þoru goddes awn assent

232

To regne þai wer noȝ sufferd lang,
Þar famen sone opon þam thrang.
So wiȝ in tim breue and hastife
Þai loste þe regne and ek þar life.
Osrik and alle þat with him helde
To dede he was in þe feld felde,
And eamfride, saint oswalde broþer,
Dukes and knightes so many oþer.
Saint oswalde comes, qwen þis was done,
And with him he hafes folk bot fone.
He had þan bot alitel oste
Of aenglise folk to him asoste.
Þe weride duk of þe britons
Alle þe folk of northumbre he stons.
Kyng cadwalon had lefte him þare
Þase contres to waste and make bare,
Þe north contre to sla and sprefe
And nankins godes with þam to lefe.
In oste he hade so fele thousandes,
Nane aenglise men agains him standes.
Lo, on him comes þan kyng oswalde,
In cristen troȝ afermede so balde.
Lo, saint oswald, worthi and digne,
Of þe saint croice raisede asigne
Als in þe defens of his right,
Or he bigan þat daie to fight.
He sette him doune opon his knes,
Þat alle þe folk of his oste ses.
So he bisoght þar in his voice
Iesum criste, þat diede on croice,
Þat he sulde helpe and do succours
Vnto his folk, þat him honours,
Þat dai in þar so grete nede
Als in þar right þam forto spede.
And suo of his praiers he rase,
And in þe felde he tok his plase.

233

Sa in bataile to gider þai smite,
And sone his famen wer scomfite.
ffirste in meting þai faght fulfaste
Many was slane, fele awaie paste.
Þe britons duk, þat was so kene,
Þat rasede him slik emprise sustene,
Þat naman might stande him againe,
Þat dai in bataile was he slaine
In þe stedde men calles dinisborn;
And alle his folk þe bak þai turn.
Þe felde es halden, þe soȝ to saie,
In gret worschipe vn to þis daie,
Qwar saint oswalde þe prise he wan,
Of his famen slane many a man.

Kyng oswald was done to scla
Be þe handys of kyng peanda.

Kyng cadwalon, after þis was wroght,
With fulgret strenȝ þe north he soght.
Þe kyng oswalde gretelie he noiede;
On him his contres he destroiede.
Lang tim he made him vnquiete,
Him and his folk broght vnderfete.
He suffrede him nakins pes hafe,
ffer in to þe north he him drafe.
His folk he sloȝ, his landes he waste,
Him selfe ouer þe walle he enchaste,
Qwilk þe emperour of rome seuere
Had raised bifor so many a yiere.
He raisede þe wal[l]e, þe soȝ to saine,
Bituen þe scotes and ek britaine
Als fra þe ta ce to þe toþere,
ffor neiþer folk sulde ride on oþer.

234

Cadwalon þan sent peandas,
Paigien kyng of mercherie he was,
And a g[re]te partie of his oste
Vnto him þat tim he asoste
To þe same stede for to trauaile,
On oswalde kyng fight in bataile.
Kyng oswald was bi þe walle sides.
In þe same stede, lo, he abides,
Þe qwilk stede es calde heuenfelde;
Þar he abides bataile to yielde.
Bot, lo, it tides þe kyng oswalde
In þat ilke stede heuenfelde es calde
Durande a night alle sides about
Seged peandas and his rout.
Oswald a croice puruaide he hade;
A pite siþen in þe claie he made.
His selfe þe croice sette in þe pitte,
Qwar folk maie se a croice stand yitte.
He it enbraste with baȝ his handes
And helde it vp right, so it standes,
Iqwiles his knightes þar to keste
Moldes and stanes to stande it feste.
And qwen he hade his werk finiste,
Þe croice amanges þam so stabliste,
In iesum criste he him afiede.
To alle his oste þes wordes he criede:
“On knes, myn feres, sette we vs alle,
To mightie godde of heuen we cal[l]e.

235

Him, a godde suthfaste and veraie,
In comun now with herte we praie:
He vs defende, baȝ stille and loude,
ffra þis gret oste so stoute and proude,
ffra þe kyng of britaine, cadwalon,
Þat wille destroie our nacion,
ffra peandas proude and felons,
Þat ledeseman es his britons,
Sua þat we falle noȝ in þar hende;
Þoru his mercie he vs defende.
Certes godde his selfe anens our state
Alle þe soth he knawes and wate,
Þat for our folk and for our right
Our assent es in felde to fight.
ffor our folk hele, lo, we trauaile
And vndertakes rightwise bataile.”
Lo, alle þai dide his comandement
Towardes þe croice in gode atent.
Þai knelde, criede with loude voice:
Safe þam he sulde, þat diede on croice.
And so þe daie bigan to spring,
Lo, with his oste oswalde, þe kyng,
With peandas batailde him biforn—
Same þai faght welraȝ at morn.
Kyng oswalde sone þe maistrie wan,
Þe britons scomfite awaie ran.
Kyng cadwalon sone qwen he hers
Þat scomfite wer his bachelers
And to him come kyng peandas,
Þat neulings in felde scomfit was,
ffulsone he smate in angre and ire;
To wrek him he hade grete desire.

236

Alle his oste he gadrede to him;
On kyng oswalde he faght þat tim.
To romaines walle of þe northside,
Qwar kyng oswalde him walde abide,
On þe north side romaines walle
Es þe place heuenfelde þai calle.
Oswalde hade alitel oste,
ffight with þam þar nedelings he moste.
Asted fulner þai calde it burne;
Abide þam þar he walde noȝ scurne.
ffulhard in felde to gider þai faght;
And sone ful vtrage harmes þai laght.
Þar famen wer so many and fele,
Þai hade na strenȝ with þam to dele.
Kyng oswald selfe in feld was slane
And of his men welner ilkane.
Peandas, mercherie kyng paigiene,
Þat daie in felde, felons and kene,
On cristenfolk wroght sorow anogh.
Saint oswald with his handes he sloȝ,
And he smate of his armes tua,
And suo he dide his hiede alsua.
He dide þam hing vp in hegh tres
In wo[n]dring to alle þam ses.
Þan hade he slane kynges thrin:
Oswalde, osrik, and kyng edwin.

237

Kyng oswyn was maid kyng of alle
ffro north humber to þe romes walle.

Heuenfeld certes þe stede men calles
Qwar oswalde kyng and his folk falles.
And yitte men sais a croice þar standes
Qwar oswalde sette an with his handes
In his worschipe mankinde boght dere,
To þe quilk croice yitte euerilke yiere
ffrers of escoldesham er won
To mak deuote procession
At þe daie of his martirdum,
And ek þe contre folk þai cum.
In his worschipe þai offre and wak,
And þar deuocion þar þai mak.
Saint oswalde lifede in þis warld her
Þe space of aght and thritie yier.
Bot þe coron to yiem he dreghien
Regnand kyng yieres bot neghien.
And so he diede, godde to queme,
ffor cristen folk he hade to yieme,
Þe yieres of criste þat writen sua
Sex vndreȝ yiers fourtie and tua.
Regne after him was sene bigin
Of northumbre his broþer oswin.
Kyng oswin sagh his broþer so slane
With thousandes of men many ane,
In þe toþer yier it tide sum tims
He nam doune saint oswalde lims.
To lindesfarnes kirk he bare
Saint oswalde heide and lefte it þare.
Þe handes with þe armes so hale
He bare to þe cite regiale,

238

Þam in saint petres kirk to hafe,
Amanges relikes þam þar to safe.
Þe cors he bare to bardanaie,
He delfed it þar in þe abbaie.
Qwen kyng oswin had tane coron
Als kyng in þe northumbre to won,
He sagh wele he might haf na gale
Þar to mainten coron riale,
Bot he might haf þe pes certaine
Of cadwalon kyng of britaine.
Of cadwalon, so gret A sire,
Þat of alle britaine hade empire,
Haf his pes certes nedelinges he wolde.
Gret giftes he gaf of siluer and golde
To cadwalon, þat bar him maste;
Sua pes of him, lo, he purchaste.
He yialde him to kyng cadwalon,
To regne in his protection,
Him and alle his to be in pes,
Alkins distance bituene þam to ses.
Afterwarde als enemise and fas
His nexte frendes againes him ras.
ffirste his awn son, edelfride,
Againes his fader bigan to ride.
With him his broþer son, oswalde,
He saide fra him haf þe regne he salde.
In na place þai againe him stode,
Bot euer vnder fote þai yiode.
And qwen þai suo nankins gale fande
On him þoru strenȝ to win þe lande,

239

Ouer humbre, lo, baȝ þai pas
To þe paigien king peandas,
Kyng of mercherie; to him þai fledde.
Þai talde him alle how þai wer stedde.
Þai him bisoght in alkins þing
His oste samen gadre and bring,
And with his oste of so grete numbre
Passe he sulde with þam ouer vmbre,
Þe regne fra kyng oswin to tak
And þam þar in lordes to mak.
Þai saide and suare it was þar right,
And þoru his helpe haf it þai might.
Þai suare fra þai win þe coron
Þerof gife him large porcion.
Kyng peandas, felons and curste,
Mak werre certes he ne durste.
He durste noȝ raise slik acontek;
Ne ek þe pes he walde noght brek
Kyng cadwalon, so wele he wiste,
Þoru britaines kyngdum had stabliste.
With þam to rife he targed þan;
ffor he durste vnquiete naman,
Ne rase contek, ne werre bigin
Þase daies britaines hile within,
Riche ne pouer to der ne greue,
Bot he hade kyng cadwalon leue.
Þerfor sumqwile yitte he walde targe,
Til he might be mar at þe large,
Leue to purchace on sumkins wise
Againes kyng oswin for to rise,
Mak cadwalon assent þar to,
Withouten qwam he durste noȝ do.

240

Tide come, kyng peandas [so balde]
To cadwalon certes wende he walde.
Him to entice he sulde noȝ blin
Againes oswin with ille to rin.
Oþer ells sone he sulde him graunt
On oswin kyng contek to haunt.

Cadwalon to worschip pentecoste
His lordes gart calle both best and moste.

To come A solempne fest þat yier,
Qwilk al folk helde solempne and der,
Of pentecoste þe solempnite.
Kyng cadwalon with willes fre
Þat daie he walde bere diademe,
So to his dignite walde seme.
And solempne sua he walde þat feste
With alle his princes maste and leste.
To london wer þai boden and calde,
Þar was his wille þe feste to halde.
Alle englise kynges was þar þat daie,
Bot anelie oswin was awaie.
And alle þe dukes of britaine
Com at þe daie assignede certaine.
Qwen þis gret feste it was fulfilde,
So cadwalon his selfe wilde,
Kyng peandas, qwen alle was done,
To cadwalon he com fulsone.

241

He haskede þe kyng cadwalon
Qwarfor and for qwatkins cheson
Kyng oswin fra of northside trent
At his gret feste mak him absent,
Qwi he was awaie him allane,
Sen oþer wer comen euerilkeane,
Sen alle princes com of þe saxons,
And alle dukes within britaine wons.
Kyng cadwalon þis wordes hers,
To peandas þus he ansuers:
“I wate for þe cause of sekenes
Þis daie kyng oswin absent es.
Excusede he es anens his state:
He mai noȝ trauaile, wele I wate.
If he hade bene man hale and fer,
Þis daie forsoȝ he hade bene here.”
Peandas þan spak wordes ma;
To him he saide: “it es noȝ sua.
It es for anoþer acheson:
A gains þe he compasses treson.
ffor he has sent to germanie
Of saxons after mar cheualrie.
ffele saxons has he to him calde
To wrek his broþer dede oswalde.
He thretes to do gret harmes and scath,
Thralie to venge him on vs bath:
On cadwalon and peandas.
Þoru vs he sais þat slane he was.

242

His awne son, edelfride, he flemes,
And yong oswald for fals he demes,
Þat es his awne broþer son.
In lande he wille noȝ suffer þam won,
ffor þai er noȝ of his assent
To fulfil his false compassement.
On þam he sekes to sla and dere,
If þat he might cum qwar þai were.
Out of his lande he hafes þam drifen,
And yitte he wille noȝ suffer þam lifen,
ffor þai will noȝ in worde and dede
With wille assent to his falshede.”
Alle þis peandas suar and saide,
He kneu þe soth þus es puruaide.
Þerfor he haskes his wille and leue
Þe kyng oswin in slaghtre to greue,
In sum þinges for to stem his wille
Or he his compassement fulfille,
Ou[þ]er him to sla oþer put out of place
Oþer out of regne him for to chace.
Þe kyng of þis he herde him spelle,
Into diuerse thoghtes he felle.
He reuertede gretelie in thoght
Qweþer it might be so oþer noght.
He helde oswin so treu a knight,
And wele he kneu he wald bot right.
Of þis mare of þe soth to here
He calde his maste familiere
Princes and dukes and ek barons
Þat wiseste wer of þe britons.

243

He bade þai suld spek þam amidde
Of slik treson if it wer kidde,
In þar skilles to caste and ame
Anens oswin of slik defame,
Qwat in hert ilkeman vnderstandes,
Qwat es to do of slik tiþandes.
And amanges þam, lo, alle þai keste
Of þis tiþandes how wald be beste.
Þai schewed amanges þam many þinges,
Bot nane for oþer til essu þas bringes.
Sum fand oswin was gode and treu,
Sum he might be traitor of neu.

Peanda kyng of mecheri
Was sclane and scomfet her sothly.

Margadude, kyng of demecie,
A wiseman halden and a worthie,
Amanges oþer to þe kyng he saide:
“Lorde, her bifor þou hade puruaide
And hade stabliste in þi purpos
Alle þe englisse folk to tine and los,
Þam to be desheritede and slane,
And clenelie be put out of britaine.
ffra þi purpos qwi now þou turnes?
Do þat þou hight me þink þou scurnes.
Now þou suffres þar nacion
Als in gode pes amanges vs won.

244

If þou of þam nane armes wille ber,
Suffer ilke þar oþer werde and der.
Lat þam selfe mak discorde ciuile,
Ilke þar put oþer out of þis hile.
Lat ilke þar oþer wirk þar sorow and wa,
In batails ilke þar oþer sla,
Sua þoru þam selfe withouten dout
Of our contres þai be put out.
Lat ilke þar oþer put in perile;
Þar faiȝ til vs was neuer bot gile.
Na faiȝ it es til þam to halde
Þat neuer treuȝ anens vs walde.
ffor euer yitte þai spie and waite
Qwat tides þai mai wirk vs desait.
Qwat es to do þis men againes,
Þat euer er taken with fals traines?
Saxons sen firste þai had entre
And wer comen within our contre,
To spie and wait euer er þai won,
To our folk do gile and treson.
Qwat treuȝ þar for halde þam we sale
Þat euer mar wirkes vs sorow and bale?
Gife leue forþi to peandas
Ouer vmbre, if he maie, for to pas.
Gife him leue now for to bigin
Contek to raise opon oswin,
So aiþer on oþer rise be sene,
Ciuile discorde be þam betuene,

245

Amanges þam selfe in discorde wende,
With chance þam self to sla and schende.
So þai maie baȝ be done awaie
Out of our hile for euer and aie.”
Many large skilles and ek resons
Wer schewede amanges þe britons.
Qwen alle þe dukes and princes wise
Ilkane hade saide þar his awise,
To kyng margadudes worde
Alle þai assent and ek acorde.
Þe kyng was mofede of þar skilles,
Nedelinges bihofede grant þar willes.
To peandas gode leue he gafe
In alle þe strenȝ þat he maie hafe
ffor to fight with kyng oswin,
On him and alle his landes to win.
Kyng peandas fra he hade leue,
He gadred within daies breue
An oste of folk withouten numbre,
And so he paste sone ouer vmbre.
Þe contres he bigan to brin,
To spreue alle þat he fande þarin.
Alle he destroide and made waste
Þe contres qwar he forth paste;
On kyng oswin he broght his here,
Egrelie on him armes to bere.
He threte in felde with him to mete,
He suffrede him haf nankins quiete.

246

Oswin of þis auisement tharnede,
Of þis bifor naþing was warnede,
He sagh noȝ ells, bot nede him draf
Offre of his godes, þe pes to haf.
Pes to purchase ful yern he fandes
With riche giftes and lofelie sandes.
fful riche giftes he gaf and hight,
In pes to suffer him haf his right:
Armurs riche and anornementes
And fair ioels and ek presentes.
Gretter giftes he hight him þan
Þan trou walde any erdelike man,
Qwar þoru þat he winlie walde ces
And suffer him his contres in pes,
And waste na mar of his contre,
Gode pes bituen þam for to be.
Qwen oswin his ansuer heres:
Naþing he walde of his praieres,
Ne ek for nakins form of speche,
Ne for offrandes of giftes riche,
Na þing might helpe þat he might bede
In pes to be for him to spede—
He lifte his herte to godde mightie
And criede to him of his mercie,
Diuine helpe of him to hafe,
Him and his contres for to safe.

247

Þof he hade in his oste to gesse
Þe numbre of folk, yia, fer lesse—
Bi many thousandes numbred þat tide
Kyng peandas had on his side—
Kyng oswin had na noþer consaile
Bot baldeli com forth to bataile.
And faste biside vmbres flode
To gider in harlde bataile þai yiode.
Sua aiþer oste son oþer brak;
Lang þai faght or aiþer gaf bak.
Peandas hade þat daie in fight
Euer tuelfe knightes agains a knight.
Bot godde his selfe þoru grace diuine
Þe victor gaf to kyng oswin.
Peandas felle in felde þat tim,
And thritte dukes wer slane with him,
And of his folk slane fele thousandes.
Þe felde with kyng oswin it standes.

Edwyn kyng in feld was sclane,
Son after dessessed saynt aydane.

Peandas slane on northsid vmbre,
Of folk with him fulgret numbre,
Wilfrid, his son firste of gendrure,
Of mercherie regne he nam þe cure.
Vnto kynges state sone he was lifte,
Raisede þoru kyng cadwalons gifte.
Qwen he was kyng, afulgret oste
To him of his landes he asoste.
His fadres dede wrek he walde.
Dukes of mercherie to him he calde:
Duk ebbas and þe duk edbert.
He gate þam baȝ to him wele smert.

248

So he biginnes to waste and brin
Þe contres of þe kyng oswin.
Kyng cadwalon þe contek ceste
Welraȝ at kyng oswin requeste.
He stabliste slik pes þam bituene,
Naþing bot gode be herde ne sene.
Kyng wilfrede at his comandement
To þe pes certes, lo, he assent.
Againes his wille he durste noȝ spek,
Within his regne þe pes to brek.
Bot afterwarde lang thrau tide sua
Discorde it rase bituen þam tua.
Þe kyng oswin in felde was slane
And of his folk wele maniane
Als of auguste þe tuentende daie;
And saint aidan, þe soth to saie,
After his deces bot dais tuelf
Out of þis warlde he past him self.
In his passing, lo, saint cuthbert,
Þat to iesum criste gaf his hert,
So he in praiers was þe night,
He sagh þe angels of heuen so bright
Descende fra heuen in gret clerte;
Aydanes saule with willes fre
Amanges þam so clene and faire
Þai bar it vp in to þe aire.
Til heuen þar with he sagh þam wende,
In ioy to reste withouten ende.
Cuthbert sagh þis, als he wok,
ffra þan þis warlde certes he forsok.
He entrede in to religion,
In goddes seruise for euer to won.
After oswin regnede his son alfri[d]
ffra vmbres flode of þe northside.

249

He in þe date of iesum mightie
Sex vndreȝ yiers four and sextie
He sent wilfrid his clerk so dere,
Qwen he hade elde of thritti yiere,
To gilbert bischope of paris,
Bischope hade hade of folk iewis,
Bischope of him sacrede to be.
And gilbert in paris cite
Sacrede him in goddes wirschip of heuen
In presens of bischopes elleuen.
Hame com wilfride, sacrede was he,
Escoldesham his bischopes see,
Þar he wonede als goddes chose
Durande daies of archebischope bose.
Þa[s] daies was cedde in honour slik
Sacrede archebischope of eborwik.
Kyng oswin gaf vnto him cedde
Þe dignite of þat principale stedde;
And thre yere archebischop he was;
And after him sacrede was eathas;
And siþen at eathas deces
Bose in to archebischope þai ches;
Þat ilke bose was norist fra childe
In presens of þe haly maide hilde.
Saint hilde noriste fife childre smale,
ffife clerkes noble and spirituale:
Bose, cedde, osteforde, iohan, wilfride;
ffour bischopes sacred welner her tide.
Bose was eborwikes primate,
Cedde of dorcestre was prelate,
Iohan sacrede to escoldesham,
Wilfride eborwikes stat he nam,
Osteforde elit he paste to criste,
Or he might be bischope stabliste.

250

To godemen worthede þis childre fife,
Worthie [and] digne and of saint life:
Bose in rome deceste in eelde;
Cedde he restes in lichefelde;
Osteforde in wictmor he laie;
And iohan restes in beuerlaie;
Wilfride in ripon þai delfe:
Alle in wirschipe of godde him selfe.
Errik, hildes fadre of kynges kyn,
Neuoȝ he was to þe kyng edwin.
Hilde his doghtre gaf her to gode,
Goddes wordes wele scho vnderstode.
Scho lifede in habite seculer
Montance of thritti and thre yiere,
And oþer thritti yieres and thre
In nonnes habit abbas to be.
Scho ches her to religion,
In iesum cr[i]ste seruise to won.
In þis warlde þus lang lifede scho
Sexti yiere and sex þarto.

Cadwalon sone cadwalader
Kyng was crond after his fader.

Kyng cadwalon he lifede fulang
In grete honur and mightes strang,
Diademe bare in þis warlde here
Þe space of aght and fourti yiere.
So lang he was kyng of britaine,
fful noble renunde, þe soth to saine;
And qwen þas yieres was ouer paste,
Gret aelde him greuede at þe laste;
Aelde and ek sekenes of cors
Greued him and menusede his fors.

251

Of alle his daies, lo, he made ende
Of decembre in fourtende calende.
Þe yieres of cr[i]ste was paste bifore
Sex vndreȝ four and four score.
Britons or þai his cors ent[er]de
His cors alle ouer richelie þai smerde
With anoinementes aromatik
And balme and oþer smerles slik.
Þai dide mak a image of bras
Of þe statur his selfe was.
fful craftie men þar to þa[i] fotte,
In craftie forme þe image þai yotte.
His cors alle hale winlie þai broght
Within þe image so sotilie wroght.
An hors of bras ek dide þai mak
Of wondreful fairhede for his sak.
Þe image þat contende his cors
Þai sette it on þis brasen hors;
Þe image armede semelie and fair
Þai raisede in sight vp in þe har.
At london obouen þe yiates weste
Þar on to stande þai it adreste,
ffor he was kyng so forth worthie,
In signe of alle his victorie;
Þai raised [it] þar, so þe storis mons,
In flaiying of alle þe saxons,
Alle þe saxons to flai and dere
Þat durande within britaine were.

252

And vnderneth certes þai dide wirk
In honur of saint mar[t]in a kirk.
And quen þe kirk was edifide,
To þe warldes ende als fra þat tide
Þai ordainde godde seruis be done
ffor þe kynge saule cadwalone
And for þe saules to vnderstande
Þat sustens þe right in þe lande.
Þe gouernaile tok he cadwaladre
Þoru right after cadwalon, his fadre,
Qwam bede in his bokes es sene calle
Amange oþer kynges kyng chadwalle.
And qwen to regne firste bigan,
Noblie, lo, he him bare als man.
And paisabelie þe lande he ledde
Manlie so þat þe folk him dredde.
Þe yere of cadwallones obit
Chosen was cuthbert, þe heremite,
Þoru alfride, kyng of þe saxons,
And of bischopes amanges þam wons
Of lindisfarnes kirk to be
Bischope sacrede in dignite.
Bischope he was, lo, yieres tua,
And of þe office he cessede sua
Þe yieres of criste for to be tane
Sex vndreȝ four score fife and ane.
Þan in englande floriste saint bede,
So honurable man and saint of lede,
So noble clerk of hali scripture;
Þar to halelie he gaf his cur.
Qwen þe sight failde to his profite,
He might noȝ se langre to write,

253

So of bede written in bokes we finde
Goddes wordes to preche he trauaild blind.
We finde he prechede goddes lare;
He wende gret folk bifor him ware
In a dale, noȝ þar bot ruth stanes;
His man in scornyng for þe nanes
Said him grete pople es gadred here,
And þai abide goddes wordes to lere.
Goddes wordes he schewed with his muth
With fulgode wile, so he wele cuth.
Qwen he made his conclusion,
So at ending prechours er won,
Alle þe stanes on euerilke side
With loude voice als semede þai criede,
So men sulde done to sarmun gader,
Þai saide: “amen, honurable fader.”
Bose primat of eborwikes see
Of þis lyfe þan ceste he
In þe date of incarnacion
Of our lorde iesum goddeson
Sex vndreȝ yiere four score and aght.
His state after him wilfride laght.
And iohan chosen to state he cam
Sacrede bischope of escholdesham
Þoru þe grauntise of kyng alfride;
His wille was it be so þat tide.
In goddes seruis ten yiere and mare
Iohan he duelde in þat kirk þare.
Þe folk to clens, lo, he biginnes
Þoru waies of penance of þar sinnes.

254

Conuerte was her soth saxone
And þe kynges landes of fresie.

In Wilfrides daies discorde was sene
Rise him and kyng alfride bituene.
So wilfride for sum þinges in dout
Of þe archebischoperik was loched out
Þoru þis alfride, þe same king,
Enticede againes him for sum þing.
And oþer to þe dignite war calde:
Saxulfe sacrede and erconwalde.
Wilfride tok schipe on cees flodde;
Þe rude windes bleu againes him stodde.
In to freselande þe winde him bleu
Amanges folk he neuer sagh ne kneu.
Qwen þai sagh astrange man was he,
Þai him resaiuede with willes fre.
Of iesum criste, lo, he þam prechede,
And þe right troght to þam he teched.
He schewede þam þe waies right.
Þar kyng forsoȝ aldegise he hight.
Of wilfride he name cristendum,
So dide alle oþer þat with him cum.
He baptisede folk of his landes
Withouten numbre fele thousandes.
And siþen he paste þeþen to rome,
Þar proued treu þoru papedome.
Prouede was þat ilke worde þai lighiede
Þat him vnto þe cure had wreghiede;
Þar was he prouede and fonden slik
Worthie to yieme þe bischoprik.
Wilfride fra þat he come againe
In to þe contres of britaine,
He preched þoru suthsex contres
Qwar yitte þe folk vncristend he ses.

255

To iesum criste he þam conuertes,
And to þe trogh he turnes þar hertes.
Sua his duelling it durede lang stunde
In diuerse stedes to þe yere secunde
Of alfrid, kyng alfrides son,
Þat of northumbre had þe coron.
Lo, in þar concile sinodale
And þoru þar aller assent so hale
Iohan was translatede to eborwik
To gouern þe archebischoprik,
Þe dignite for to gouerne
And alle þe pople to lede and lerne.
And in þat dignite he stode,
To thre and tuenti yiers oueryiode;
Sua four and thritti yier welner
Bischope he was goddesfolk to ler.
In þe date of criste paste Iohan
Seuen vndreȝ yier tuenti and an.
Wilfrid escoldesham he tok,
His forme see to gouern and lok,
And he [it] helde durande his life
Sumquile in pes, sumquile in strife,
Sumtides out put, þe soȝ to saine;
Þoru right dome he recouerd a gaine.
Bischope he was in anguises sere
Þe space of fife and fourtie yiere.
And so in gode pes at þe laste
Winlie out of þis warld he paste
After ser trauails he dreghien
Of criste seuen vndreȝ yiers and nieghien.
Cadwaladre in firste beginnyng
Manlie he fore and regned als kyng,

256

And fra þe tuelfe yier war gan
Þat he þe diademe hade tan,
He fel in to sekenesse fulstrang,
Þe qwilk sekenesse him held fullang.
Iquils kindelede discorde ciuile
Amanges britons þoru out þe hile.
Cadwaladre was seke and vnfer
He might þam noþer stem ne ster.
His modre was peandas sister,
Of englisse blode þe britons wist her.
Comen scho was of þe beste kinde
Of englisse in westesex to finde;
His fader þe kyng cadwalon,
Þat of alle britaine bare coron.
Qwen he acorded with peandas,
Slik faiȝ bituen þam was,
His sister he tok vnto his wife,
With her in sposage lede his life.
He wedded her and so in þatte
Cadwaladre on her he gatte.
Alle þe britons þai kneu fulwele
He was of englisse blode sumdele.
Þerfor of him nane agh þai stode,
Ilkeman in þar awne willes yiode.
Ilkeman oþer so derde and noiede;
Þe plentiuose hile þai destroiede.
Slik discorde amanges þe britons,
Welner nan of þam in pes wons.

257

Þe kyng þar of he was anguiste,
Bot in sekenes so he languiste,
Þat he might noȝ þam adresse;
Suffre of him þai walde nadestresse.
Ilkan on oþer with ille þai soght,
And of þar kyng þai gaf right noght.
Þai durede so forth euer mar and mar
Qwils kyng languiste so seke and sare.

Her was brittons clen put out
By hunger and deth þis about.

Anoþer mischance þam tid þan:
Rank hunger sloȝ many aman.
So rank hunger durand and kene
Þoru out britaine þat tide was sene,
Þat neuer man within þe hile
Hade sene slik bifor þat quile.
Þe claie welner it keste nacorn,
Ne oþer frutes, so dide biforn.
ffisches falede in þe cees fame,
Morine of alkins bestes tame,
Sua þat þis erdelik men for yiode
Þas daies alkins maner of fode
Þoru out britaine alle þe hile
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
Voide of alkins frutes men ses,
Out tane solace of venison
To þam þat in sum contres won.

258

Þerof wer lefte in wodys sum parte
To þam þat cuth of þat kins arte.
fferinges dede com of þat vngre,
Þat sparde noþer aeldre ne yongre,
Ne ek riche men ne ek pouer.
Welner nane lefte, bot alle paste ouer.
Lo, vngre made þar hertes to talme,
And oneu opon so on comand qwalme,
Þat faste opon þe vngre ensude,
Of folk slane fulgret multitude
Þai diede so thik þe folk amange,
Þe corses fele on þe grunde so thrange,
To fone men lefte on lifes quik
To delfe þe corses, þat laie so thik.
Þan þe waful folk þat þar lefte
Of þat slik qwalme þar lifes refte
In companies þe hile þai fledde
Ouer cee to sek þam woni[n]gstedde.
In to quat stedes so þai þam turnede,
Sorow þai made and gretelie murnede,
Qwar so þat caitife folk to comes
To aerde in oþer strange kyngdomes.
On þis maner, lo, þam amang
Þai saide and sorowfullie þai sang:
“Lorde, in þis warlde quiles we lifen
Als drape schepe þou hafes vs gifen,
Þou hafes vs scaterede her and þor,
Amanges sere folk we ne wate qware”.

259

Kyng cadwaladre þis cas bihelde
Welner alle diede in contres duelde,
Sen godde opon his folk tok wrek,
Againes qwas wille was noȝ to spek.
He sagh morine of folk so grefe,
So fele within schort tide and brefe
Amanges folk fel doune and diede,
Alle folk for sorow yielde and criede,
On molde þar laie so many dede lik,
Gret dole to se þe vengeance slik.
He sagh it might na better be,
He hiede him out of lande to fle.
Þe folk þat he might safe he calde,
And in to amorik he walde.
He gatte him aful wrechede nauie,
To cee he went with sorowful crie.
With weping and with sorowful mode
He sang þis wordes on þe cees flode:
“To vs sinful es sorow and wa,
Godde takes on vs vengeance fulthra.
To vs es dole, wa, and vnhele
ffor our sinnes, þat er so fele.
Waful murning it es til vs,
On qwam gret godde he wrek him þus.
Durande our wele we walde noȝ blin
Liking to haf in alkins sin.
Our sinnes certes we walde noȝ leue
Anens godde, þat wer so greue.
Lang space we had so wele to do,
Bot we walde neuer enclin þarto.
Space we had our sinnes to fle,
Bot of trespas neuer cessede we.

260

Þerfor on vs now tides þis chance,
Sen he on vs now takes vengeance;
Sen to his willes we wald noȝ stande,
He puttes vs now out of our lande.
He castes vs now out of our hile,
ffor euer to life als in exile.
His grete pouste, þat euer lastes,
Out of our aerde it now vs castes,
Vs, quilk neuer yitte þe romains,
Þat ofte siþes faght vs agains,
Ne ek scotes, ne ek pecthes—
Þai faght on vs in manykins sleghtes—
Out of our erde neuer þai us drafe,
Þis hile fra vs to win and hafe.
Ne vs out drafe neuer þe saxons,
Þat dide vs so fele fals tresons,
Þof þai ful ofte put vs to dout
And welner clenelie hade vs out.
Euer on þam recouerde we bigan
And our contres certes agane wan.
Sen it was noȝ goddes wille
Þat we þar in sulde regne stille,
ffor our trespas we haf done ar
He put vs out for euer mar.
Lo, alle our pride and wok es felde;
Lo, alle our lande baraine and gelde;
Morine ouer gane our fe and store,
And alle for our trespas bifore.
Verai iuge he es and suthfaste;
He suffres vs and ses at þe laste

261

Þat of our sinnes we wil noȝ ces,
Anens him selfe halde vs in pes.
He wille þat nane erdelik man maie
Of our contres put vs awaie,
Bot anelie he, þat alle adresses;
ffle propre aerde, lo, he vs stresses.
Now thralie he chastes vs foles
And puttes vs doune of our stoles.
Yia, he þat es of might so grete
Now he vs castes out of our sete.
We leue our awne nacion,
Til strange landes we seke to won.
Lo, now out of our aerde we lepe;
A gaines godde es now to threpe.
Comes now againe, alle yie romains!
Now finde yie naman yow agains.
Comes againe, yie scote and pecthes!
ffor agains yow naman fightes.
Comes againe, alle yie saxons!
Now in britaine, lo, naman wons.
Lo, alle britaine þis daies now
Es made desert and opon to yow.
Lo, alle britaine, quilk yie desire,
Es made deserte þoru goddes ire,
Op[o]n qwilk hile yie ofte haf foghten;
Mak it desert neuer yie moghten,
Þoru strenȝ certes put vs noȝ out,
Þof yie lang tides haf bene about,

262

Bot his pouste, þe soȝ to saine,
Þat regnes on hegh, kyng soueraine,
Qwam we to wreth wald neuer drede;
Now he him wrekes on vs in dede.
Out of our aerde, lo, he vs drifes,
Þar for euer mare he vs prifes.”

Sorowe and site was þam þan
By alle þe contres of brittan.

Kyng cadwaladre, doleful to her,
Spak þas wordes with sorowful cher,
Quile he him oþer recette sekes;
Þe teres ran doune bi his chekes.
Sughande he murnede and sare he wepe;
Alle might haf dole til him to kepe.
With open sorow his handes he wrange.
Þis wordes he criede þam alle amange:
“Qwat erdelik man mai solace tak
Againe quam godd wil partie mak?
Qwat man in erde es so mightie
Againes godde mai mak partie?
Qwat man mai sai his hert lightes
Agains quam godde selfe he fightes?
In his mercie, þis es my bone,
Of vs in alle in his wille be done.”
Quiles he was in slik descomforte,
He arifede in amorikes porte.
His nauie þar come to þe lande;
Recette amanges þat folk he fande.
He come with his gret multitude,
Þat out of britaine him ensude,

263

To kyng alane, þat was so fre;
Kyng salamones newoi was he.
And fulhonurable þat tim
He and þai wer resaiuede of him.
Britaine was þan alle voide and waste
Of alkins citisains almaste,
Out tane a fone of þam þat darde
Within wales qware dede þam sparde.
Þis vngre and qualme, griseli to neuen,
It dured þe space of yieres elleuen.
Saxons, þat wer in þe contres,
Sum wandrede in wath, sum awai fles;
Ilke man lifede with fodes sere,
Sum with purchas of þe wilde dere,
And sum with rotes als wilde swine,
And sum þar lifede with saluagene,
And sum þat cuth þai lifede þat quile
With water fische and volatile.
Qwalme stode anelie to þe britons
And vngre to alle oþer nacions.
Lo, after nighien yiers at þe laste,
Qwen alle pestilens was paste,
Saxons within britaine tapiste
Bihelde þe schenschepe euua[n]iste,
Qwalme and vngre in þe hile it ceste,
And alkins maner frutes encreste;
Þe molde þai put in tilȝ fulsone,
So þai bifor wer won to done;
And in to germanie þai sent
Vnto þar fers þat þider went.

264

Þai bade þam cum til þam againe
In to þe landes of britaine;
Þai bade þam hasteli repair—
ffor frutes þar in florisses so fair—
Bring al with þam þar nacion,
Þat hafes in wille in welth to won.
ffor inborn folk þe hile it tharnes,
Naman lefte þat þam entre warnes.
It hafes þase daies na folk in born,
Alle er awaie it aght biforn.
Lightelie þis daie þai maie it win,
Til þe warldes ende to won þarin,
If þai wald for comande profite
In þe contres cum to habite.

Þe angel warned cadwalader,
Bad hym to england neuer repaer.

Qwen þis was schewede to þam þat tide,
Samen gadrede þat pople weride
Withouten numbre gret multitude
Of saxons folk so proude and rude;
Men and women withouten numbre
Alle þai applide of northside humbre.
Þar north arifede þai lande
Contres vnto þar willes þai fande.
Alle fande þai vnto þar wille;
In þe hile þam likede mak duelling stille.
Ilke man to his profit tok stede;
Alle þe contres sone þai þoru sprede.

265

Lightelie þe hile so hade þai þan;
Alle it in habite þai bigan.
ffra alban[i]e in to cornewale
Þe lande to tilȝ þai dide travaile.
Naman þai fande in gode ne ille
Þat walde þan againe sai þar wille,
Ne þat þam wilde mak defens
To welde alle þai fande in presens
Bot of britons an fone poueraile,
Þat ouer lifede als þar rascaile,
Þat in wudes and rugh rochins
Tok þar reste and in wastins,
Þat duelde als in gannokes and vales
Within wastins and wudes of wales.
ffra þat tim þe britons pouste
It ceste within britaine to se.
And englis men bigan þase daies
Þe landes in to þar handes to sais,
Þar kynges for to tak diademe,
Principalie þe regne to yieme.
And efterwarde ouer paste sumtide
Þat contres wer reedifide,
Anens tilȝ raisede many aplogh,
Þe lande plentiuouse anogh,
And alle pople strenghede sumdele,
Gode pes bigan and folk fore wele.
Kyng cadwaladre þis vnderstode
Britaine was plentiuouse and gode

266

And þat of qwalme and vngre so strang,
Þat durede in þe hile so lang,
It was clensede and purifide,
And frutes þar in wer multiplide.
Þar to in wille he thoght to cum,
Againe to resaife his kingdum.
Helpe he haskede of kyng alaine
Into his regne bring him againe
And him þase daies for to restore,
Þe regne to haf was his bifore;
His bifor dignite to vse
He walde it noȝ so light refuse.
Qwen him grantede alaine þe kyng
Him to regne againe to bring
And he bigan to apparaile
Nauie in to britaine to saile,
Til him a voice sounede fra heuen,
Als it wer in an angel steuen:
He bade him ces and think namar
In to britaine againe to fair.
He bade him leue he hade bigonen;
Oþer nacion his regne hade wonen.
ffor goddes wille es nalangre quile
Britons within britaines hile
Þai salle regne, ne ek haf coron,
So þai bifor þar in wer won,
Vnto þat ilke tide comen war
Þat merlin spak of in his lare

267

And arthur schewede in prophecie;
Slik es þe wille of godde mightie.
And yitte ek he comandede him
Þat he sulde wende to rome þat tim
And vnto sergius þe pape
Scheu alle his life als wise and yiape,
Þar his penance for to fulfille
Durande his daies in goddes wille,
Numbrede to be for ane of hise
Amanges þe saintes of heuenrik blise.
He saide þe pople of britons
So merlin in his signes mons
Of his gret treuȝ þoru þe merite
With in þe hile salle in habite,
Purchace þai salle yitte þe kyngdum
Aftre destind tides to cum.
And ek þat tim cum salle it noght
Til relikes againe be broght,
Til þe britons gete his relikes
And bring in to þar kyngrikes.
And qwen þat þai er broght againe
To within þe regne of britaine,
Þe relikes salle be schewed þen
Of oþer saintes and holymen.
His relikes siþen þoru pople paigiene
Er hidde and felde, neuer to be sene;
Sua þe britons for euer sulde stint
Recouer relikes so loste and tint.

268

Cadwalader was last kyng of brittons,
Endyd his life within rome wones.

Cadwaladre herde þis with his hers
Schewed him þoru diuine messangers.
Alsone to kyng alaine he went,
He talde ilke worde in his present
Þat þan was schewede him vnto,
Haskede him consaile qwat was to do.
Þan kyng alaine tok diuerse bokes
In qwilk of prophecies men lokes
And þe prophecies of aquile,
Þat ful certaine was halden þat quile,
Þase þat to sextoine was writen,
Þe soȝ þoru prophecie to witen.
And to þe dite so ek of sibille
He dide wisemen vndo skille,
And ek þe bokes of merline,
Þoru him vnto þe soȝ to win.
Þe bokes wer redde fra uerse to uerse,
Þar prophecies to reherse,
To se of cadwaladre schewing
To qwat effek þai might it bring,
To wite ek if it walde acorde
Til written oracle in anykins worde.
Þai saide nankins descorde þai fande
Anens recouerer of þe lande,
Bot euer slik: to britons come,
His relikes þai bring fra rome.

269

Kyng alaine bade to cadwaladre
Obeis to his celestiene fadre.
He bade him in al þinges encline
Til dispensacion diuine.
He bade him lat britaines hile be,
Muse namar of þat dignite,
Bot do so he herde godde angelle
In his schewing vnto him spelle.
Wer it in gode, wer it in ille,
He bade [him] stande to goddes wille.
Hastile wende forth he sulde assent,
So godde him gafe in comandement,
And do his wille in alle þinges,
“ffor he es king ouer alle kynges.
Nane erdelik man withouten him comes
In þis warlde to haf kyngdomes;
Ne ek to entre þe regne of heuen
Withouten his wille thar naman neuen.
To do his wille þou hie þe sone;
In heuen and erde his wille be done.”
He bade him in to britaine sende
Iuor his son with þam to lende,
Iuor, þat was his son and air,
Into britaine for to repair,
And hine, his newof, sende alsua
Of britons for to gouerne þa
Þat in britaine þam now sustens—
A[n]eus now comen on þam paigiens—
“Þat þar slik franchise aunciene,
Þat so lang tides yiemede has bene,

270

ffra our blode be noȝ tint ne loste,
So nedelinges lose it þai moste.”
Þa[n] cadwaladre to godde him tok,
Alle erdelik þinges sone he forsok.
Þe regne to haf withouten ende
To rome werde he biginnes to wende.
To sergius þe pape come he,
Of him confermede for to be.
And at þe pape, lo, he was schrifen
Of alle þe tides in warlde he lifen,
Of him assoilde in alkins þing,
Of him resaifede ek his blissing.
Qwen clenelie he þan had done þus,
Confermede of þe pape sergius,
Sodanelie him tok greue langure;
He yialde him vnto goddes cure.
He paste þis life at þe tuelfte daie
ffolghande after þe calende of maie,
ffra þe coron he nam in þis warlde her
Þe space of foure and tuentie yiere,
In þe yiere of incarnacion
Of our lorde iesum goddesson
Of yieres seuen vndreȝ and ten,
Als þoru acountes of þe wisemen.
Þat daie forsoȝ he yialde þe gaste
To godde, þat es of mightes maste,
Withouten ende his saule be sene
Entred þe halle celestiene.

271

Þe saxons þai recovert þis land
With grace of god þar in waxand.

Kyng cadwaladre son Iuor,
So his fadre him bad bifor,
He puruaide him sone of nauie
And of alkyns þinges redie.
With him was hine his cosin,
Adoghti knight, þat walde noȝ twin.
And vnto þam alle þai asoste
Þat þai might gete and made an oste.
And in to þar nauie þai yiode
And paste so ouer þe cees flode.
Þai applide in britaines hile
And faght þar in durand lang qwile.
So in wer and fighting þai dreghien
Þe space of sextie yiers and neghien.
Þai wroght englande gret vnquiete,
And euer þar selfe yiode vnderfete.
In fele skokeries þai brinde and slogh,
Destroide and ek dide sorow anogh.
Bot alle þat þai so lang tim wroght
To þar profite it helped noght.
And euer tide to þar nacion
fferinges dede, so it was won:
Vngre, durande tharning of mete,
Ek pestilens and qualme so grete
And descorde wel gret þoru custum
Amanges þam euer redie to cum,

272

Descorde and hate, baȝ stille and loude,
With helde þat wrechede pople so prude,
Þat þai natim might haf grace
Þar enemies out of þares to chace.
Þe saxons folk barbariene
Neulinges to þe hile arife was sene
Britons nalangre britaine þai calde
Bot in þar speche, so tonges walde,
Wailsemen þai þam nam and spelle,
Wales þe contres þai in duelle
Of þar duk, þat hight qualon,
Soueraine of þar nacion.
Sum names þam of quales, þe quen,
Þat ouer þam in grete state hade bene,
So þai bare name of her quales,
Þat ladie was of þar contres.
Sum sais þat name britons linage
Þai tok of þe saxons langage.
Sua oþer sua amanges vs alle
Wales and wailsemen we þam calle.
And þe saxons, so sum men spelle,
Englisse was calde firste of kyng elle;
Oþer namede þai wer, so sum men sais,
Of quene anglas was cald anglais;
Of him oþer her of queþer, bigan
It bers na fors now to naman.
Þe name now knawen and renounde,
So saint gregore þe name expounde,
Anglais namede of þe angells,
Tak we it sua and of noȝ ells.

273

Þof saxons tok þat name bifore,
To angells þam expound gregore,
Als to angells in forme and schappe,
Of mightie godde haf grace and happe;
And aenglande ek launde of angells,
Godde to worschip folk þar in duells,
Þar in godde maste worschiped to be,
Yia, maste religiouse to se.
Þerfor [his] selfe þe lande þam gaf,
Qwilk þai bifor neuer might haf.
Þoru þam selfe win it neuer þai moghten,
Þof þai þar in lan[g]e tide had foghten.
Wonen to halde it euer þai miste,
To godde he þam þar in stabliste.
Þe saxons þan wiselie þai lifen
ffra godde þam hade þe lande so gifen.
Alle þase of þam þat paigiens ware
Of iesum criste þai herde þe lare,
Þai tok baptem and bicom wise,
Nane þar to strife on oþer to rise.
Pes þai vsede and gode acorde
Amanges þam baȝ in dede and worde.
Þai trauaild yern and tilde þe feldes,
Þat large frutes to þam yeldes.
Castells þai raisede in þe contres
And reedifide þe cites.
And anglande þai diuisede in seuen,
In seuen ser kyngdomes to neuen.
Lordeschape of britons þai forsok,
And of þam self a lorde þai tok.

274

fforto mainten þam alle in pes
Ane of þam ouer þam alle þai ches.
Of alle loegre als lorde and fre
Ouer þam alle to haf þe empire
Þai ches ouer þam kyng adelstane,
Soueraine to be ouer þam ilkane,
Ouer þam alle to bere diademe,
In pes þam alle to saf and yieme.
Þe wailsemen þat wer drifen awaie
Out of britaines noblaie
Haf recouerer þai gat neuer quile,
Monarchie haf of britaines hile,
Þof þai on faght fulmany a yiere
And dide chekeries fulmany and sere.
ffirste þar kynges Iuor and hine
ffight on anglande þai neuer fine.
And oþer come siþen after þa.
Þai vsede to haf euer kynges tua.
fful ofte þai ras againes anglande,
Bot euer ful harde entre þai fande,
And so egrelie wer halden inn,
Þat þai might neuer angland win.
Of þar lordeschape we spek namar,
Bot within wale we suffer þam dar.
Of adelstane now fra þis tim
And of anglise kinges after him
Þat regned in anglande spek we salle,
Sen þai haf þe coron principalle.

University of Virginia Library

THOMAS CASTELFORD'S CHRONICLE