Classic Poem

Listen and I salle rede why þe misaventoure
On Harald side gan sprede þorgh William Conqueroure.
The duke of Normundie, William is his name,
Wolnoth, Haraldes broþer he had in prisoun at Kame,
And his nevow, Hakon, in preson was him with —
I ne wote for what reson so fer out of þer kith.
Harald, whan he was gonge, he went unto France,
þe cuntre forto see, and forto here of chance.
All his mishappyng felle, he com in to Pountif,
To Richere þat was erle, men told it fulle rif.
þis lord of Pountif, Richer le Fitg Jhoun
He tok þis ilk Harald and did him in presoun;
þe bode of him sone kam to þe duke of Normundie.
þe duke went to Pountif and toke him with maistrie
And brouht Harald home and seid þorgh curteisie:
" Harald, haf now þin eyse in alle my seignorie."
Now has Harald his eyse at reson in alle þing:
þe meyne in alle þing plesed him next þe kyng.
William and Harald went þam for to play,
Tales togider þei tald, ilk on a gode palfray.
Whan þei had wele riden þat þam þouht right lang,
þei lighted and abiden biside a water strang.
" Harald," said William, " listen to my resoun,
What right þat I have of Inglond þe coroun
After Edwardes dede, if it so betide
þat God haf ordeynd, so I after him abide.
Whan þat we were gonge, Edward þe kyng and I,
He was in my fader courte exiled, I ne wote whi,
Out of Inglond; þan suore he to me,
If he þe coroun mot wynne, his heyre suld I be.
þerof he mad me skrite, his hote to mak leale,
And for to sikere his dede, set þerto his seale.
Harald, whan þou ses tyme, do þi help þerto;
I salle delyver þi broþer and þi nevow also,
And Marie, my douhter, to wife I wille þe gyve.
A man I salle þe make richely forto lyve,
Or my chefe justise, þe lawes to mend and right;
þi sistere I salle gyve a riche prince of myght.
" Sire," said Harald, " I shalle, if þat I may,
Help þe þe coroun to hald if ever I se þat day.
My broþer delyver þou me, my nevow þou me grante,
And hold þi certeynte and salle hold covenante."
þe presons forth were fette tille Harald or he foore;
To hold þat he had hette, on þe boke he suore.
Now gos he home, Harald, and has overcomen his tene;
þe othe þat he suld hold, it is forgeten clene.
Edward is dede, allas; messengers overwent
To William; Harald was þorgh comon assent
Was corouned nobly and for kyng þei him helde;
Bot þe duke of Normundie, to William felle þe schelde.
þe duke wrote to þe kyng, in luf withouten loth,
Bisouht him over alle þing þat he wild hold his oth
And geld him þe coroun of Inglond ilka dele,
Or Marie to warisoun, wed hir and joy it wele.
And if he wild not so, he suld mak him oknowen
He suld wynne it, fordo in right as for his owen.
Harald wrote ageyn and seid he never þouht
Marie to wedde certeyn, þe lond hight him nouht;
And if he wild it wynne with dynt als duke hardie,
He suld fynd þerinne Kyng Harald redie.
Git is Harald; I say, regnand in myght and mayn;
þe kyng of Norway in bataile has he slayn.
þe duke forto geten his rigt of þat Harald hette,
Now is he in þe see with saile on mast upsette;
Toward þis lond þer drouh to aventure his chance
With Normandes inouh and of Flandres and of France.
He had redy sailyng þat to þe lond him ledde,
And at his rivyng, þe lond non him forbedde.
His folk went up to lond, himselven was þe last;
To bank over þe sond, plankes þei over kast.
Als William þeron suld go, he stombled at a nayle,
Into þe waise þam fro, he tombled top over taile.
His knyghtis up him lyft and did him eft atire,
William was oglyft, his helm was fulle of myre;
William was not paied, þat falle mad him ofright.
He stode alle dismaied, þan said tille him a knyght:
" Discomfort noþing þe, so faire happe never þou fond;
Stoupe and þou may se, þi helm has wonne lond.
þat þe lond is þin, þi helm schewes it þe.
Forsuorn is Harald, he salle no dure."
Whan William alle was dight and to þe boun,
Redy with him to fight, he fond Harald fulle sone.
He fond fulle wele and sone þat Harald nouht ne slepe;
To prove with dede to done, fulle wakand on him lepe.
To bataile haf þei mynt, Harald and William,
Bot non stode Harald dynt þat bifor him kam;
þe rouht of þare rascaile he did it rere and ryme,
Normang and Flemmyng taile he kutted many tyme.
To while þat he was fresch, þei fond him fulle austere;
þei felt of his pruesse, als knyght did his devere,
For he was over prest and egre to assaile,
He wild haf no rest tille he myght travaile.
Allas for Sir Harald, for him was mikelle reuth;
Fulle wele his awen suld hald, if he had kept his treuth.
Bot þat he was forsuorn, mishappyng þerfor he fond,
Suld he never els haf lorn for William no lond,
Ne we bien in þat bondage þat brouht was over þe se;
Now ere þei in servage, fulle fele þat or was fre.
Our fredom þat day forever toke þe leve;
For Harald it went away, his falshed did us greve.
He was so fer in presse, so fele wer him about,
Him befor alle þei ches þat he suld not skape out.
Normang and Burgolons with lance, suerd, and mace
Bare Sir Harald doun; allas, he had no grace.
So douhty knyght of dede was non of noiþer sides;
þore to dede he gede als man forsuorn betides.
Nien monethes beforn kept Harald þe regalle,
Bot þat he was forsuorn, þerfot he lost alle.
Out of þe stoure þar stode tuo man skaped ware,
Of Sir Haraldes blode, Eadwyn and Morkare.
þer tok þe Quene Edith for doute of treson,
Was Kyng Edwardes wif, led hir to Kelion.
Wele was scho þer to hold prive sojorne;
Eadwyn and Morkare to London gan þei turne,
Unto þe Londreis þei told þat þei had fonden an hayre,
Was Edmund kosyn þe kyng; þe Londreis wer in speyr
Him for þar kyng uplift, his name was kald Edgar.
For William þei wer oglift and said: " þat we ne dar;
For slayn is Kyng Harald, and in lond may non be
Bot he of William hald for homage and feaute."
Morkar recleymed es, as es þe faukon fre,
And Eadwyn com to pes, he mot no better se;
þe burgeis of London þar conseile wild it nouht
To gif Edgar þe coroun þat for heyr þei brouht.
William þe Conquerour to London has he þouht,
þer þe bataile was stoure, an abbay wild he haf wrouht;
þer he and Harald mette, þer standes þe kirke,
For blode þat þer was gette, to praie þei suld not irke.
To London com William his Gole feste to hold,
His barons with him nam, knyghtes þat wer bold.
Wardeyns of tour and toun, and oþer þat ne wold
þar landes les alle doun, for tynt wer þei told;
To Frankis and Normang for þat grete laboure,
To Flemmynges and Pikardes þat wer with him in stoure,
He gaf londes bityme, of whilk þer successoure
Hold git þe seysyne with fulle grete honoure.
Fair grace William fond, his chance fulle wele him satte,
þe reame of Inglond so graciously he gatte.
þe Archbisshop Stigand, of Inglond primate,
þat tyme was suspended, þe Pape reft him þe state;
And abbot and prioure, men of religion,
And oþer men of honour, archdecane and person,
Wer prived of þar office, of woulfes had renoun
For lichorie, þat vice, wer many als don doun
þe archbisshop of Gork com with devocioun,
þorgh William praiere com to London toun:
Bifor þe barons brouht, he gaf William þe coroun;
To chalange was he nouht, Sir Stigand was don doun.
Whan William was coruned kyng so solemply
And had taken homage of barons bi and bi,
He turned over þe se unto Normundi;
Dam Helienore, quene was sche, scho bare him company.
When he had duelled þore, at Pask he com ageyn,
And Dam Helianore, with many knyght and sueyn,
To London alle þei went, þe courte holy alle pleyn.
For þe archbisshop þei sent, messengers gede tueyn.
Elred, þe archbisshop of Gork, had þe se;
þe kyng him bisouht als clerk of dignite:
" To coroune Helianore, þat biseke I þe."
þe bisshop corouned hir þore bifor þat faire semble.
Whan þe folk had bien at þe coronment ilk dele,
Boþe þe kyng and þe quene þe barons paied wele.
þe kyng and þe clergie ordeynd þat ilk seele
þe pes to geme and gyve with lawes trewe als stele.