Laȝamon (lines 13971-14297)

            Þa com þer in are tiden         an oht mon riden,                             
And brohte tidinge    Arðure þan kinge
From Moddrede, his suster sune    —Arðure he wes wilcume:
For he wende þat he brohte            boden swiðe gode.
Arður lai alle longe niht          and spac wið þene ȝeonge cniht               
Swa nauer nulde he him sugge       soð hu hit ferde.
Þa hit wes dæi a marȝen     and duȝeðe gon sturien,
Arður þa up aras       and strehte his ærmes.
He aras up and adun sat      swulc he weore swiðe seoc.
Þa axede hine an uæir cniht:             'Lauerd, hu hauest þu iuaren toniht?'
Arður þa andswarede           —a mode him wes uneðe:
'Toniht a mine slepe,             þer ich laei on bure,
Me imætte a sweuen;          þeruore ich ful sari æm.
Me imette þat mon me hof uppen are halle,
Þa halle ich gon bistriden      swulc ich wolde riden.                                 
Alle þa lond þa ich ah,          alle ich þer ouer sah;
And Walwain sat biuoren me;         mi sweord he bar an honde.
            Þa com Moddred faren        þere mid unimete uolke;
He bar an his honde             ane wi-ax stronge.
He bigon to hewene            hardliche swiðe                                             
And þa postes forheou alle             þa heolden up þa halle.
Þer ich iseh Wenheuer eke,             wimmonnen leofuest me;
Al þere muche halle rof         mid hire honden heo todroh.
Þa halle gon to hælden         and ich hæld to grunden
Þat mi riht ærm tobrac.          Þa seide Modred: "Haue þat!"                   
Adun ueol þa halle,               and Walwain gon to ualle,
And feol a þere eorðe;         his ærmes breken beine.
And ich igrap mi sweord leofe         mid mire leoft honde
And smæt of Modred is hafd          þat hit wond a þene ueld.
And þa quene ich al tosnaðde         mid deore mine sweorede             
And seoððen ich heo adun sette    in ane swarte putte.
            And al mi uolc riche    sette to fleme,
Þat nuste ich under Criste                 whar heo bicumen weoren.
Buten miseolf ich gon atstonden     uppen ane wolden,
And ich þer wondrien agon wide ȝeond þan moren.                              
Þer ich isah gripes and grisliche fuȝeles.
Þa com an guldene leo         liðen ouer dune,
Deoren swiðe hende            þa ure Drihten makede.
Þa leo me orn foren to          and iueng me bi þan midle
And forð hire gun ȝeongen and to þere sæ wende.                  
And ich isæh þæ vðen         i þere sæ driuen;
And þe leo i þan ulode        iwende wið me seolue.
Þa wit i sæ comen     þa vðen me hire binomen.
Com þer an fisc liðe             and fereden me to londe.
Þa wes ich al wet       and weri of sorȝen and seoc.                                 
Þa gon ich iwakien;                swiðe ich gon to quakien;
Þa gon ich to biuien   swulc ich al furburne.
And swa ich habbe al niht    of mine sweuene swiðe iþoht,
For ich wat to iwisse agan is al mi blisse.
For a to mine liue       sorȝen ich mot driȝe.                                               
Wale þat ich nabbe here     Wenhauer mine quene!'
            Þa andswarede þe cniht: 'Lauerd, þu hauest unriht;
Ne sculde me nauere sweuen         mid sorȝen arecchen.
Þu ært þe riccheste mon      þa rixleoð on londen
And þe alre-wiseste             þe wuneð under weolcne.                          
ȝif hit weore ilumpe, swa nulle hit ure Drihte—
Þat Modred, þire suster sune,         hafde þine quene inume
And al þi kineliche lond         isæt an his aȝere hond,
Þe þu him bitahtest               þa þu to Rome þohtest,
And he hafde al þus ido       mid his swikedome,                                     
Þe ȝet þu mihtest þe awreken        wurðliche mid wepnen,
And æft þi lond halden         and walden þine leoden,
And þine feond fallen           þe þe ufel unnen,
And slæn heom alle clane,   þet þer no bilauen nane.'
            Arður þa andswarede,          aðelest alre kinge:                            
'Longe bið æuere     þat no wene ich nauere
Þat æuere Moddred mi mæi           [...]
Wolde me biswiken             for alle mine richen,
No Wenhauer mi quene       wakien on þonke;
Nulleð hit biginne,      for nane weorld-monne.’                                          
            Æfne þan worde forðriht       þa andswarede þe cniht:
'ich sugge þe soð, leofe king,          for ich æm þin vnderling.
Þus hafeð Modred idon:      þine quene he hafeð ifon,
And þi wunliche lond isæt an his aȝere hond.
He is king and heo is quene             of þine kume nis na wene:              
For no weneð heo nauere to soðe             þat þu cumen aȝain from Rome.
ich æm þin aȝen mon           and iseh þisne swikedom,
And ich æm icumen to þe seoluen             soð þe to suggen.
Min hafued beo to wedde   þat isæid ich þe habbe
Soð buten lese         of leofen þire quene,                                               
And of Modrede þire suster sune, hu he hafueð Brutlond þe binume.'
            Þa sæt hit al stille       in Arðures halle.
Þa wes þer særinæsse        mid sele þan kinge;
Þa weoren Bruttisce men     swiðe vnbalde uor þæn.
Þa umbe stunde       stefne þer sturede:                                                  
Wide me mihte iheren          Brutten iberen,
And gunne to tellen   a feole cunne spellen,
Hu heo wolden fordeme      Modred and þa quene
And al þat moncun fordon    þe mid Modred heolden.
            Arður þa cleopede, hendest alre Brutte:                                      
'Sitteð adun stille,      cnihtes inne halle,
And ich eou telle wulle          spelles vncuðe:
Nu, tomærȝe, þenne hit dæi bið,   and Drihten hine sende,
Forð ich wulle buȝe in toward Bruttaine,
And Moddred ich wulle slæn           and þa quen forberne                      
And alle ich wulle fordon       þa biluueden þen swikedom,
And her ich bileofuen wulle me leofuest monne,
Howel, minne leofue mæi,   hexst of mine cunne;
And half mine uerde ich bilæfuen a þissen ærde,
To halden al þis kinelond      þa ich habbe a mire hond,                          
And þenne þas þing beoð alle idone,       aȝan ich wulle to Rome,
And mi wunliche lond bitæche         Walwaine mine mæie,
And iuorþe mi beot seoððe            bi mine bare life;
Scullen alle mine feond         wæi-sið makeȝe.'
            Þa stod him up Walwain,     þat wes Arðures mæi,                    
And þas word saide             —þe eorl wes abolȝe:
'Ældrihten Godd,       domes waldend,
Al middelærdes mund,         whi is hit iwurðen
Þat mi broðer Modred          þis morð hafueð itimbred?
Ah, todæi, ich atsake hine, here,      biuoren þissere duȝeðe,                
And ich hine fordemen wulle            mid Drihtenes wille.
Miseolf ich wulle hine anhon             haxst alre warien,
Þa quene ich wulle mid Goddes laȝe         al mid horsen todraȝe:
For ne beo ich nauere bliðe             þa wile a beoð aliue
And þat ich habbe minne æm         awræke mid þan bezste.'               
Bruttes þa andswarede        mid baldere stefne:
'Al ure wepnen sunden ȝarewe;     nu, tomarȝen, we scullen uaren!'
            A marȝen, þat hit dæi wes and Drihten hine senden,
Arður uorð him wende          mid aðelen his folke.
Half he hit bilæfde     and half hit forð ladde.                                              
Forð he wende þurh þat lond          þat he com to Whitsond;
Scipen he hæfde sone,       monie and wel idone,
Ah feowertene niht fulle        þere læi þa uerde,
Þeos wederes abiden,        windes bidelde.
            Nu was sum forcuð kempe in Arðures ferde;                   
Anæn swa he demen iherde           of Modredes dede,
He nom his swein aneouste            and sende to þissen londe,
And sende word Wenhaueren        heou hit was iwurðen,
And hu Arður wes on uore   mid muclere ferde,
And hu he wolde taken on   and al hu he wolde don.      
            Þa quene com to Modred,   þat wæs hire leofuest monnes,
And talde him tidende          of Arðure þan kinge--
Hu he wolde taken an           and al hu he wolde don.
Modræd nom his sonde      and sende to Sexlond
After Childriche          —þe king wes swiðe riche—                                  
And bæd hine cume to Brutaine     þerof he bruke sculde.
Modræd bad Childriche,      þene stronge and þene riche,
Weide senden sonde          a feouwer half Sexlonde,
And beoden þa cnihtes alle             þat heo biȝeten mihte
þat heo comen sone            to þissen kinedome,                                    
And he wolde Childriche      ȝeouen of his riche,
Al biȝeonde þere Humbre,            for he him scolde helpe
To fihten wið his æme,         Arðuren kinge.
Childrich beh sone    into Brutlonde!
            Þa Modred hafde his ferde isomned of monnen,
Þa weoren þere italde          sixti þusende
Here-kempen harde             of heðene uolke
Þa heo weoren icumen hidere         for Arðures hærme,
Modred to helpen,    forcuðest monnen.
Þa þe uerde wes isome      of ælche moncunne,                         
Þa heo weoren þer on hepe           an hundred þusende,
Heðene and cristene,           mid Modrede kinge.
Arður lai at Whitsond             —feouwertene niht him þuhte to long,
And al Modred wuste           wat Arður þær wolde;
æche dæi him comen sonde           from þas kinges hirede.                   
Þa ilomp hit an one time       muchel rein him gon rine,
And þæ wind him gon wende         and stod of þan æst ende,
And Arður to scipe fusde     mid alle his uerde;
And hehte þat his scipmen brohten hine to Romerel,
Þer he þohte up wende       into þissen londe.                                         
            Þæ he to þere hauene com,            Moddred him wes auornon.
Ase þe dæi gon lihte            heo bigunnen to fihten;
Alle þene longe dæi             moni mon þer ded læi.
Summe hi fuhten a londe,    summe bi þan stronde;
Summe heo letten ut of scipen       scerpe garen scriþen.                      
Walwain biforen wende       and þene wæi rumde,
And sloh þer aneuste           þeines elleouene;
He sloh Childriches sune      þe was þer mid his fader icume.
To reste eode þe sunne.     Wæ wes þa monnen;
Þer wes Walwain aslæȝe    and idon of life-daȝe                        
Þurh an eorl Sexisne —særi wurðe his saule!
            Þa wes Arður særi    and sorhful an heorte forþi,
And þas word bodede        ricchest alre Brutte:
'Nu ich ileosed habbe           mine sweines leofe.
ich wuste bi mine sweuene whæt sorȝen me weoren ȝeueðe.
Islaȝen is Angel þe king,      þe wes min aȝen deorling,
And Walwaine, mi suster sune        —Wa is me þat ich was mon iboren.
Up nu, of scipen biliue,         mine beornes ohte!'
æfne þæ worde        wenden to fihte
Sixti þusend anon     selere kempen
And breken Modredes trume;         and welneh himseolue wes inome.
Modred bigon to fleon         and his folc after teon,
Fluȝen ueondliche,    —feldes beoueden eke,
ȝurren þa stanes       mid þan blodstremes.
Þer weore al þat fiht idon,     ah þat niht to raðe com;                               
ȝif þa niht neore        islaȝen hi weoren alle.
Þe niht heom todelde           ȝeond slades and ȝeond dunen;
And Modred swa vorð com            þat he wes at Lundene.
Iherden þa burh-weren         hu hit was al ifaren,
And warnden him inȝeong, and alle his folke.                              
            Modred þeone wende        toward Winchastre,
And heo hine underuengen             mid alle his monnen,
And Arður after wende         mid alle his mahte
Þat he com to Winchestre    mid muchelre uerde
And þa burh al biræd;          and Modred þerinne abeod.                      
Þa Modred isæh       þat Arður him wes swa neh,
Ofte he hine biþohte            wæt he don mahte.
Þa a þere ilke niht      he hehte his cnihtes alle
Mid alle heore iwepnen        ut of burhȝe wenden,
And sæide þat he weolde   mid fihte þer atstonden.                               
He bihehte þere burȝe-were          auermare freo laȝe
Wið þan þa heo him heolpen         at heȝere neoden.
Þa hit wes dæiliht,     ȝaru þa wes heore fiht.
            Arður þat bihedde    —þe king wes abolȝe,
He lette bemen blawen       and beonnen men to fihten;            
He hehte alle his þeines       and aðele his cnihte
Fon somed to fihten and his ueond auallen,
And þe burh alle fordon       and þat burh-folc ahon.
Heo togadere stopen          and sturnliche fuhten.
Modred þa þohte     what he don mihte;
And he dude þere,   alse he dude elleswhare,
Swikedom mid þan mæste,            for auere he dude unwraste.
He biswac his iueren             biuoren Winchestren,
And lette him to cleopien     his leofeste cnihtes anan,
And his leoueste freond alle            of allen his folke,                               
And bistal from þan fihte      —þe feond hine aȝe!—
And þat folc gode lette         al þer forwurðe.
Fuhten alle dæi;         wenden þat here lauerd þer læi
And weore heom aneouste             at muchelere neode.
            Þa heold he þene wai          þat touward Hamtone lai,                
And heolde touward hauene,          forcuðest hæleðe,
And nom alle þa scipen       þa þer oht weore,
And þa steormen alle           to þan scipen neodde,
And ferden into Cornwalen,             forcuðest kingen a þan daȝen;
            And Arður Winchestre          þa burh bilai wel faste,                     
And al þe moncun ofsloh     —þer wes sorȝen inoh—
Þa ȝeonge and þa alde,      alle he aqualde.
Þa þat folc wes al ded,         þa burh al forswelde,
Þa lette he mid alle    tobreken þa walles alle.
Þa wes hit itimed þere          þat Merlin seide while:                                 
'Ærm wurðest þu, Winchæstre;       þæ eorðe þe scal forswalȝe.'
Swa Merlin sæide     —þe witeȝe wes mære.
Þa quene læi inne Eouwerwic,         —næs heo næuere swa sarlic;
Þat wes Wenhauer þa quene,        særȝest wimmonne.
Heo iherde suggen   soððere worden,
Hu ofte Modred flah and hu Arður hine bibah;
Wa wes hire þere while       þat heo wes on life!
Ut of Eouerwike         bi nihte heo iwende
And touward Karliun tuhte     swa swiðe swa heo mahte;                        
Þider heo brohten bi nihte    of hire cnihten tweiȝe.                                  
And me hire hafd biwefde   mid ane hali rifte,
And heo wes þer munechene,        karefullest wife.
Þa nusten men of þere quene         war heo bicumen weore,
No feole ȝere seoððe         nuste hit mon to soðe
Whaðer heo weore on deðe           …
Þa heo hireseolf weore        isunken in þe watere.
Modred wes i Cornwale      and somnede cnihtes feole:
To Irlonde he sende             aneoste his sonde,
To Sexlonde he sende        aneouste his sonde,
To Scotlonde he sende       aneouste his sonde;                                     
He hehten heom to cume alle anan             þat wolde lond habben
Oðer seoluer oðer gold        oðer ahte oðer lond.
On ælchere wisen     he warnede hine seoluen,
Swa deð ælc witer mon       þa neode cumeð uuenan.
            Arður þat iherde,       wraðest kinge,                                              
Þat Modred wæs i Cornwale          mid muchele mon-weorede,
And þer wolde abiden         þat Arður come riden.
Arður sende sonde   ȝeond al his kinelonde,
And to cumen alle hehte       þat quic wes on londe,
Þa to uihte oht weoren          wepnen to beren;                                        
And whaswa hit forsete        þat þe king hete,
Þe king hine wolde a folden             quic al forbernen.
Hit læc toward hirede            folc vnimete,
Ridinde and ganninde,          swa þe rim falleð adune.
            Arður for to Cornwale mid    unimete ferde.                                  
Modred þat iherde    and him toȝeines heolde
Micl vnimete folke     —þer weore monie uæie!
Uppen þere Tambre           heo tuhten togadere.
Þe stude hatte Camelford    —euermare ilast þat ilke weorde!
And at Camelforde wes isomned   sixti þusend,                                      
And ma þusend þerto          —Modred wes heore ælder.
Þa þideruard gon ride           Arður þe riche
Mid unimete folke      —uæie þah hit weore!
            Uppe þere Tambre             heo tuhte tosomne,
Heuen here-marken,             halden togadere,                                          
Luken sweord longe,            leiden o þe helmen—
Fur ut sprengen;        speren brastlien,
Sceldes gonnen scanen,      scaftes tobreken.
Þer faht al tosomne   folc vnimete;
Tambre wes on flode           mid vnimete blode!                                     
Mon i þan fihte non þer ne mihte     ikenne nenne kempe,
No wha dude wurse no wha bet,    swa þat wiðe wes imenged:
For ælc sloh adunriht,            weore he swein weore he cniht.
Þer wes Modred ofslaȝe     and idon of lif-daȝe,
And alle his cnihtes    islaȝe in þan fihte.
Þer weoren ofslaȝe alle þa snelle
Arðures hered-men,             hehȝe and lowe,
And þa Bruttes alle   of Arðures borde,
And alle his fosterlinges        of feole kineriches,
And Arður forwunded           mid wal-spere brade;                                  
Fiftene he hafde        feondliche wunden—
Mon mihte i þare laste          twa glouen iþraste!
Þa nas þer namare    i þan fehte to laue
Of twa hundred þusend monnen    þa þer leien tohauwen,
Buten Arður þe king ane      and of his cnihtes tweien.                             
Arður wes forwunded           wunder ane swiðe.
Þer to him com a cnaue        þe wes of his cunne:
He wes Cadores sune,        þe eorles of Cornwaile;
Constantin hehte þe cnaue —he wes þan kinge deore.
Arður him lokede on,             þer he lai on folden,                                     
And þas word seide             mid sorhfulle heorte:
'Costæntin, þu art wilcume; þu weore Cadores sone.
ich þe bitache here    mine kineriche,
And wite mine Bruttes          a to þines lifes,
And hald heom alle þa laȝen           þa habbeoð istonden a mine daȝen,
And alle þa laȝen gode       þa bi Uðeres daȝen stode.
And ich wulle uaren to Aualun,         to uairest alre maidene,
To Argante þere quene,      aluen swiðe sceone;
And heo scal mine wunden makien alle isunde,
Al hal me makien       mid haleweiȝe drenchen.
And seoðe ich cumen wulle             to mine kineriche
And wunien mid Brutten       mid muchelere wunne.'
Æfne þan worden     þer com of se wenden
Þet wes an sceort bat liðen, sceouen mid vðen,
And twa wimmen þerinne    wunderliche idihte,
And heo nomen Arður anan,            and aneouste hine uereden,
And softe hine adun leiden,             and forð gunnen hine liðen.
Þa wes hit iwurðen    þat Merlin seide whilen:
Þat weore unimete care        of Arðures forðfare.
Bruttes ileueð ȝete   þat he bon on liue,
And wunnien in Aualun         mid fairest alre aluen;
And lokieð euere Bruttes ȝete        whan Arður cumen liðe.
Nis nauer þe man iboren      of nauer nane burde icoren,
Þe cunne of þan soðe          of Arðure sugen mare.
Bute while wes an witeȝe    Mærlin ihate;                                                 
He bodede mid worde        —his quiðes weoren soðe—
Þat an Arður sculde ȝete      cum Anglen to fulste.