Transcript Lines 193-220

“Bisshop,” quod þis ilke body, “þi boode is me dere:

I may not bot bogh to þi bone for bothe myn eghen.

To þe name þat þou nevenyd has and nournet me after

Al heven and helle heldes to and erthe bitwene.

Fyrst to say the þe sothe quo myself were:

One þe unhapnest hathel þat ever on erth 3ode,

Never kyng ne cayser ne 3et no kny3t nothyre,

Bot a lede of þe lagh þat þen þis londe usit.

I was committed and made a mayster-mon here

To sytte upon sayd causes; þis cité I 3emyd

Under a prince of parage of paynymes lagh,

And uche segge þat him sewid þe same faith trowid.

Þe length of my lying here þat is a lewid date,

Hit is to meche to any mon to make of a nombre.

After þat Brutus þis burgh had buggid on fyrste,

No3t bot fife hundred 3ere þer aghtene wontyd

Before þat kynned 3our Criste by Cristen acounte:

A þousand 3ere and þritty mo and 3et threnen aght.

I was an heire of anoye in þe New Troie

In þe regne of þe riche kyng þat rewlit us þen,

The bolde Breton Sir Belyn – Sir Berynge was his brothire;

Mony one was þe busmare boden hom bitwene

For hor wrakeful were quil hor wrath lastyd.

Þen was I juge here enjoynyd in gentil lawe.”

Quil he in spelunke þus spake, þer sprange in þe pepull

In al þis worlde no worde ne wakenyd no noice,

Bot al as stille as þe ston stoden and listonde

With meche wonder forwrast, and wepid ful mony.

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