Lines 1–518

Herkneth hideward, lordynges,
Ye that wolleth here of kynges :
Ant ye mowen heren anon
Hou Engelonde furst bigon
This philosofres us doth to-wyte,
Ase we findeth ywryte.
This lond was cleped Albyon,
Er then Bruyt from Troye com,
A thousent ant tuo hondred yer
Erthen Marie Crist ber.
A muche mon com from Troy, y wis,
Wes icleped Bruyt Sylvius,
A muche mon com with him also,
Corineus yclepud wes tho.
In thilke time, in al this londe,
Om aker-lond ther nes yfounde
Ne toun ne houses never on
Erthen Bruyt from Troye com ;
Ah al wes wode ant wildernesse,
Nes ther no tilthe, more ne lesse.
Geauntz her wonede suythe stronge,
That were bothe grete ant longe ;
Geomagog hatte here kyng,
Me nuste no wer ys evenyng ;
He wes of suythe wonder streynthe,
Ant fourti fithe hade the leynthe
From the elbowe to the hond,
Ant tuenti on brede on him me fond.
In grete hulles hy woneden her,
Ant livede by herbes ant wilde duer,
Mylk ant water, hy dronke nout elles,
Ase the boc hyt saithe ant telles.
Schep he heden ase hors gret,
That beren wolle ase her of get,
Therof hy maden hem sclavyns,
Ase palmers that beth paynyms.
Tho Bruyt com this lond to wynne,
The geauntz that ther woneden ynne,
Tho hy herden of Brutes come,
Ham byradden alle ant some
To yeven hem bataille anon,
Ant to slen hem everuchon.
The Troyens were suythe kene,
Ant that wes ther wel asene,
The geauntz heo overcome,
Ant heore grete kyng he nome,
Geomagog that wes so strong,
Ant so wonderliche long.
Corineus the champioun,
That with Bruyt from Troye com,
Seh Geomagog so sturne,
Ant desirede suithe yurne
To wrastle wyth that foule thing.
That wes the geaundene kyng.
Ant of Bruyt he bad the bone,
Ant he him grauntede suithe sone.
Corineus anon forth schet.
To the kyng that wes so gret,
Al day togedere hy wrastly conne,
Forto hem faylede light of sonne,
The kyng wes a teoned stronge
That Corineus astod so longe,
Ant so harde he him tuaste.
That thre ribbes in him to-braste.
Bruyt byhueld Corineus,
Ant to him he seide thus,
Corineus, wet dest thou nouthe ?
Nes ner by northe, ne by southe,
Ne by water, ne by londe,
Er then non thi piere yfonde ;
And yef the word of the spronge
That eny mon the stode so longe,
Geaunt, other champioun,
Al thyn honour were leid adoun,
Ant nomeliche to thy lemmon,
That ys wyttore then the fom.
Tho Corineus underyat
That Bruyt of ys lemmon spac,
Of Erneburh that maide hende,
To Geomagog he con wende,
Ant him putte with such streynthe,
Thah he were more thon he of leinthe,
That fourti fet, roumede and grete,
Into the sec he made him lepe.
Tho the geauntz were overcome,
Ant Bruyt hade this londe ynome,
Corineus lovede the more
Al that contrey tharefore,
Ant clepede hit for that batayle
After Corineus Comwayle,
Bruyt hade muche folk with him,
Bothe fremede and eke kun,
That wer erthe-tilyes gode,
Hy faleweden erthe, ant feolden wode,
Ant of this lond that wes so wylde
Hy bygonne tonnes to bulde ;
Londone he made furst with gome,
Ant yef hit his oune nome,
Newe Troye, for he com
Furst from Troye and hit bygon,
In his time, withoute les,
Elye the prophete ichose wes,
The children of Yrael bi dai ant nith.
The laghe techen hem ariht,
The laghe he tahte hem ych wene,
On hem therafter hit wes sene.
Bruyt had thre sones,
That were suythe feyre gomes.
That on wes hote Lokeryn,
He reignede after his fader fyn.
Cambroun hatte that other,
He wes the mydleste brother,
He was ybore in Deveneschire,
Of Wales he wes maked sire.
Albanactus the thridde iclepud wes,
Scotland to ys part he ches,
Ant tharefore, ase ryth ys,
Al that Bretaygne iclepud ys.
He reignede her
Other half-houndred yer,
At Westmustre he was ded.
Ant yburied, for so he bed.
Tho anon, after hym,
Reygnede his sone Lokeryn ;
Crafti mon for sothe he wes,
He wrohte her, withoute les,
Tuo merveilles grete, y wys,
Wrokynghole that on clepud ys
Sikerlich withoute gyle,
Biside Glastingbury a myle;
A chapele that other ys,
That over the erthe hongeth thus,
From the erthe tuenti fet,
The leynthe for sothe last yet.
Of seynt Susanne, wythoute les,
The chapele ycleped wes.
He reignede her
An hondred wynter and tuo yer.
After hym reignede Eboras,
That suithe wis and crafti was
He wes Lokerynes sone,
Everwyk wes his meste wone,
Ant he Everwik made and met,
More than Londone by seve stret,
Alklud and Maydenescastel bo,
Ant Mound de le Rous he made also :
Ant tho David and his teem
Reigneden in Jerusaleem.
After hym Lud-Hudybras,
So Eboras sone ycleped was,
Hade this londe everuch del,
Ant hyt yemede suythe wel ;
He made Caunterbury anon,
Ant other tounes moni on,
Wynchestre and Schaftesburye,
Ther spac an ern a prophecie,
Thre dawes and thre nyht,
The prophecie he tolde riht :
Wet in Englond schulde byfalle.
That ther weren hit herden alle.
Lud, that ichabbe of ytold,
He wes kyng suythe bold,
To bulden he nevede gode wate,
At Londone he made a yate,
Ant clepede hit, arter ys nome,
Ludgate, al with gome.
After thillce kyng Lud
Reignede his sone Bladud ;
He wes clerk of nigremancie,
That ys an art of gret maistrie ;
He made the wonder, ful y wis
That hote bathe ycleped ys.
Herkneth alle that beth hende,
Ant y schal telle, ord and ende,
The rihte sothe, ful y wys,
Hou hote bathe ymaked ys :
Four tonnes ther beoth of bras,
Al for sothe thus hit was,
Feole thinges ther beth ynne,
Craftilich ymad with gynne,
Ouic brimston and other alsuo,
With wylde fur ymad therto,
Selgemme and salpetre,
Salarmoniae ther ys eke,
Salnitre that ys briht :
Berneth bothe day and nyth.
This ys in the tonnes ydon.
Ant other thinges moni on :
Berneth bothe nyht and day,
Ah never quenchen hit ne may.
In four sprunges the tonnes liggeth,
Ase this philosofres suggeth,
The hete withynne, water withoute,
Maketh hot al aboute.
The tuo sprunges urneth yfere,
Ah the other tuo beth more clere ;
Therof ys maked, ful y wys,
That kyngesbathe ycleped ys.
Thilke maister Bladud,
That wes kyngessone Lud,
Tho he this ilke bathe made,
Ant he eny defaute hade
Of thinges that ther schulde to,
Herkneth hou he wolde do ;
From Bathe to Londone he wolde fleo,
Ant thilke dai self ayeyn teo,
Ant vacche that therto byfel,
He wes quic and suithe suel.
Tho thes maister was ded,
Anon he wende to the qued,
For Crist nas nout yet ybore,
Ne deth ne soffrede him nout fore.
After Bladud wes heir
Ys oune sone, that hatte Leyr,
He made Leircestre with gome,
Ant yef hit ys oune nome.
After him reignede his sone bold,
That wes icleped Denewold,
He made Malmssbury,
Lacok and Tettesbury,
Ant Devises also,
And other tounes fele mo.
Tueye sones he hade thenne,
That on Belyns, that other Brenne,
Hy weren men of chevalerie,
Hy wonne Fraunce and Normaundie,
Ant tha lond suithe sone
From Fraunce that come to Rome,
Thilke Belyns and Brenne
Made four weyes thenne,
Thourh the grace of godes sonde,
Thourh-out all Engelonde,
That on to thisse daye yet
Ys ycleped Wateling-stret.
That other ys icleped Fosse,
Geth from Cornwaille into Scosse,
A launde in Scotlond of gret prys,
In al that lond feirore ther nys.
Ykenild-stret ther beoth thre ;
Offedich the furthe wol be.
After him com a muche mon,
Was ycleped Cassabalon,
A wis kyn and a war,
He caste Julius Cesar,
That was emperour of Rome,
Out thisse lond sone,
Ant tuye him overcom,
Ant at the thridde time Cesar him nom,
Ant the Cassabalon was overcome,
He yef gret truage to Rome,
Thre hondred pound by yer,
Er he moste be quite and sker;
That were sixti yer by score
Er then Crist were ybore.
After him Uther-Pendragoun
Hade his londe al and som,
He won to ys hond
Englond, Wales, and Scotlond ;
He reignede thritti yer,
To Glastinbury me him ber,
After him his sone Arthur
Hevede this lond thourh and thourh ;
He was the beste kyng at nede,
That ever mihte ride on stede.
Other wepne welde, other folk out-lede,
Of mon ne hede he never drede.
He ne com never in none londe,
That he ne hede the heire honde.
Ther nes never such king bifore,
Ne non ne byht ther nevermore.
Whyl kyng Arthur wes alyve
In Bretaigne wes chyvalerie,
Ant the in Bretaigne were yfonde
This gret aventures, ichonderstonde,
That ye habbeth yherd her this
Ofte sithes, and soth hit ys.
Wyth kyng Arthur wes a knyht,
Wel ychot Eweyn he hyht,
Ther nes mon in al the londe
That durste in fith ayein him stonde,
This kyng Arthur, as ich er tolde.
He wes kyng suithe bold,
He won Engelond suithe sone,
Out of the truage of Rome,
Ant Luces the emperour, sauntz fayle,
He overcom in bataille.
He get, thourh his chevalerie,
Fraunce that come to Lumbardie,
Ant Rome he wolde han ynome,
Ant tho the tidinge him wes icome,
That Moddred hys cosyn
Englond wolde bynymen him,
Ant hede yleye by the quene,
Genevre, that wes bryth and schene,
That wes kyng Arthures wyf,
That he lovede so ys lyf.
Ase sone ase Arthur the kyng
Hede herd this tiding,
To Engelond he turnde ayein,
Bothe with knyth and with sueyn,
Ant Engelond hath ynome y wys,
Ant halt hit ase rith ys.
After thon he livede ten yer,
To Glastingbury me him ber
God almihti, that best may,
Yeve him reste nyth and day
Ther after tuo and twenti yer,
Efter that Marie Crist ber,
Eleutherie, the pope of Rome,
Stablede suithe sone
Godes werkes wurthe,
Ant singe in holy chirche,
Gloria in exelsis deo,
Ant yef gret pardon therto.
After thon, ichonderstonde,
Lucius brohte into Engelonde
Cristendome, griht, and pees,
From the pope Eleutheries.
Thilke Lucius, thourh godes sonde,
Made thre archebischopes in is londe,
Ant twenty-sevyn he made also
Leod bischopes therto.
That was to-fore the come of seint Austin her
Four hondred and ahte and fourti yer.
Dioclicien thilke time
Dude cristendome much pine ;
In thilke time seint Albon
For godes love tholede martirdom.
Kyng Fortiger, wyth schome and schonde,
Wes driven out of Engelonde.
Thourh Hengistus, for soth y wys,
That made the tresoun, for thus hit ys :
At Stonhenges, wite ou wel,
Ther he hit made everuch del,
For Merlyn hem saide biforenhond
He ne schulde ner dure en Englond.
Rowenne, that was so feir may,
Furste saide, by this day,
To kyng Fortiger, Wassail ;
Ant that onsuere wes, Drinkhail.
Seththe anon, sone and suithe,
Wes Engelond deled on fyve,
To vyf kynges treweliche
That were suithe riche.
That on hade to his partie
That lond of Kent that is so druye,
Ant tueie bischopes in ys lond,
Wel hy were beyne yfond ;
The erchebischop of Caunterbury,
Ant of Roucestre, that ys mury.
The kyng of Esex wes riche mon,
He hade to ys portion
Wylteschire, Barkschyre,
Southsex, Southanteschyre,
Sothereye, Somerseteschyre,
Dersettschire and Deveneschire,
Ant therto al Cornwayle ;
Ant in is lond, sauntz fayle,
He hade vyf bischopes riche,
Me nuste no wer here yliche,
Of Salesbury wes that on,
He wes a suythe jolyf mon,
At Schyrebourne wes tho the se,
Ant nou at Salesbury ys he.
The bischop of Welles also,
That at Bathe wonede tho.
The bischop of Wynchestre,
Ant the bischop of Chychestre,
Ant of Exetre also,
Thilke was deled atuo,
That on at Credynton, sauntz faile,
That other at sein Germeyn in Cornwaile.
The kyng of Merkyneriche,
Nes ther non ys yliche,
He hade Gloucestreschire,
Wyrcestreschire, and Warewikeschire,
Staifordschire, and Shropschire,
Al the march and Herefordschire,
Oxnefordschire, and Bokynghame,
Hertfordschire, ant Hontindone,
Northamteschire, ant Leycestre,
Lyncolneschire, that ys betre,
Ant the schire of Notingham,
Rykemondeschire, nis nout to blam :
Ant in is lond that wes so muche
He hade foure bischopes riche ;
Of Lyncolne, ant of Chestre,
Of Hereford, ant of Wyrcestre.
The kyng that wes of Estengle sire
He hade Grauntebruggeschyre,
Norfolk ant Bedefordschyre,
Loncastel, and Blakebourneschire
Ant yn ys lond bischopes thre,
Noble coynte large ant fre,
Of London, ant of Norwyk,
Ant the bischop of Ely ek.
The kyng of Northumberlonde
Hade al the lond, ichonderstonde,
Bituene a water that hatte Homber,
Ant Scotlond ther yt urneth under;
Ant in is lond bischopes tuo,
Grete lordinges were bo :
The erchebischop of Everwyk,
Ant the bischop of Durham eke :
Thus wes Englond to-deled,
Ant uch kyng from other dreued,
So that ever the strengore
Overcome the feblore,
Ant ever the richore
Overcom the porore,
Tho com kyng Egbryth,
Ant, wyth batayle ant fyht,
Made al Englond yhol
Falle to ys oune dol ;
Ant sethe he reignede her
Ahte ant tuenti folle yer :
At Wynchestre lyggeth ys bon,
Buried in a marbel-ston.
After him Ethelwolf ys sone
Hade this lond al ant some,
He hade sones fyve
Er he partede of thisse live.
The eldeste hatte Athelston,
He wes a suithe jolyf mon.
That other hatte Eylbryth,
He wes a staleworthe knyht.
The thridde hatte Athelbaud,
In werre he made moni saut.
The furthe hatte Achelred,
The fyhte hatte Alured.
Ethelwolf in ys time sone
Wende to the court of Rome ;
There he wonede with the pope,
Ant dude ys lond lute note ;
For he arerede of ys lond her
Thre hondred besauntz uche yer,
That on he yef to arere the lyht
Of seint Petre apostel bryht j
Sethe he yef that other
To seint Poul ys brother ;
The thridde he yef, sauntz fayle,
To the selve apostoyle.
Yet he dude more qued
Ethelwolf or he were ded.
In Englond he arerede a lok
Of uche hous that come smok,
To Rome yef a peny, y wys,
That Petres peny cleped ys.
Ethelwolf on that maner
Wodede at Rome thre yer,
Sethe he com hoi ant sound,
Bi Fraunce toward Engelond,
Ant weddede ther a suete thyng,
Charles dohter the grete kyng,
Dame Judyth wes hire nome;
Muche he lovede gle ant gome,
Tho he come to londe her,
Ne lyvede he bote tuo yer
At the hyde of Wynchestre
Were his bones don in cheste.
After him reignede Achelred,
In ys time, er he were ded,
Com the kyng of Denemarche,
With is host stor ant stark,
Engelond to bywynne,
Ant sle that ther weren ynne,
Ah Achelred ant Alured bo
Connen her mete suo,
That, in a lutel wyhte stounde,
The Deneys hy fellen to grounde.
After that bataille seve yer
Achelred wes kyng her ;
At Wybourne mustre, y wys,
Hys body yburied ys.
After him regnede Alured,
The wiseste kyng that ever et bred,
He wes bothe war ant wys,
Ant a mon of muche pris ;
He made, thourh godes sonde,
The lawen en Engelonde ;
Ant sethe he regnede her
Four ant tuenti folle yer ;
At seint Poules liggeth is bon,
Buried in a marbre ston.
Thilke kyng Alured
Slepte lutel in ys bed,
Thenne he hade travail muche.
Ye mowe wel here wuche :
The tuenti-four tiden ariht,
That beothe in the day ant nyht :
Thilke he delede on threo,
Wel he bisette theo ;
The aht he spende, ase mon mai rede,
In beden, ant ys almesdede ;
That other aht ys body to reste ;
The thridde aht were the beste ;
Thilke he spende saunt dotaunce,
Aboute thoht ant purveaunce,
Hou he myghte him wise ant rede,
Ant ys lond ariht lede,
He hevede a mon in hys chapele,
That thus this tiden con dele ;
He made thre condlen by wyht,
That schulde berne day ant nyht,
When the on condle wes ydo,
The aht tiden weren alsuo ;
The kyng he warnede by thon,
Hys purpos ariht to don.
The rihtwise Alured kyng
Yet he dude more thyng
Al his ryghte purchas
To povre abbeyes yef was ;
Hys rentes he delede atuo,
Ne worthe never ys soule wo ;
The halvedel thenne athreo
Wel he bisette theo
That on partie he yef hem
That in ys court serveden hym ;