Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, POEM: 7, by LAURENCE MINOT


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

POEM: 7, by                    
First Line: Men may rede in romance right
Last Line: With his men bifor calays toune.
Subject(s): Courts & Courtiers; France; Religion; War; Theology


MEN may rede in romance right
Of a grete clerk þat Merlin hight;
Ful many bokes er of him wreten,
Als pir clerkes wele may witten;
And zit in many priue nokes
May men find of Merlin bokes.
Merlin said pus with his mowth,
Out of þe north into þe sowth
Suld cum a bare ouer þe se
þat suld mak many man to fle;
And in þe se, he said ful right,
Suld he schew ful mekill might;
And in France he suld bigin
To mak pam wrath þat er parein;
Vntill þe se his taile reche sale
All folk of France to mekill bale.
Pus haue I mater for to make,
For a nobill prince sake:
Help me, God, my wit es thin,
Now Laurence Minot will bigin.

A bore es broght on bankes bare
With ful batail bifor his brest;
For Iohn of France will he noght spare
In Normondy to tak his rest,
With princes þat er proþer and prest:
Alweldand God of mightes maste,
He be his beld, for he mai best,
Fader and Sun and Haly Gaste.

Haly Gaste, pou gif him grace,Þat he in gude time may bigin,
And send to him both might & space
His heritage wele for to win;
And sone assoyl him of his sin,
Hende God, þat heried hell.
For France now es he entred in,
And pare he dightes him for to dwell.

He dwelled pare, þe suth to tell,
Opon þe coste of Normondy;
At Hogges fand he famen fellÞat war all ful of felony:
To him þai makked grete maistri,
And proued to ger þe bare abyde;
Thurgh might of God & mild Mari
þe bare abated all þaire pride.

Mekill pride was pare in prese,
Both on þencell and on plate,
When þe bare rade, with outen rese,
Vnto Cane þe graythest gate.
pare fand he folk bifor %5e þate
Thretty thowsand stif on stede:
Sir Iohn of France come al to late,
þe bare has gert þaire sides blede.

He gert pam blede if þair war bolde,
For pare was slayne and wounded sore
Thretty thowsand, trewly tolde,
Of pitaile was pare mekill more;
Knightes war pare wele two score
þat war new dubbed to þat dance,
Helm and heuyd þai haue forlore:
þan misliked Iohn of France.

More misliking was pare þen,
For fals treson alway þai wroght;
Bot, fro þai met with Inglis men,
All þaire bargan dere þai boght.
Inglis men with site pam soght
And hastily quit pam þaire hire;
And at þe last forgat þai noght,
þe toun of Cane þai sett on fire.

þat fire ful many folk gan fere,
When þai se brandes o-ferrum flye;
þis haue þai wonen of þe were,Þe fals folk of Normundy.
I sai pow lely how þai lye
Dongen doun all in a daunce;Þaire frendes may ful faire forpi
Pleyn pam vntill Iohn of France.

ffranche men put pam to pine
At Cressy, when þai brak þe brig;
þat saw Edward with both his ine,Þan likid him no langer to lig.
Ilk Inglis man on oþers rig
Ouer þat water er þai went;
To batail er þai baldly big,
With brade ax and with bowes bent.

With bent bowes þai war ful bolde
For to fell of þe Frankisch men;
þai gert pam lig with cares colde;
Ful sari was sir Philip þen.
He saw þe toun o-ferrum bren,
And folk for ferd war fast fleand;Þe teres he lete ful rathly ren
Out of his eghen, I vnderstand.

þan come Philip ful redy dight
Toward þe toun with all his rowt,
With him come mani a kumly knight,
And all vmset þe bare obout.Þe bare made pam ful law to lout,
And delt pam knokkes to þaire mede;
He gert pam stumbill þat war stout,
Pare helpid nowþer staf ne stede.

Stedes strong bileuid still
Biside Cressy opon þe grene;
Sir Philip wanted all his will,Þat was wele on his sembland sene.
With sþere and schelde and helmis schene
þe bare þan durst þai noght habide:Þe king of Beme was cant
and kene,
Bot pare he left both play and pride.

Pride in prese ne prais I noght
Omang pir princes prowd in pall;
Princes suld be wele bithoght,
When kinges pam till counsail call.
If he be rightwis king, þai sall
Maintene him both night and day,
Or els to lat his frendschip fall
On faire manere, and fare oway.

Oway es all pi wele, i-wis,
Franche man, with all pi fare;
Of murning may pou neuer mys,
For pou ert cumberd all in care:
With sþeche ne moght pou neuer spare
To sþeke of Ingliss men despite;
Now haue þai made pi biging bare,
Of all pi catell ertou quite.

Quite ertou, þat wele we knaw,
Of catell and of drewris dere;
Parfore lies pi hert ful law,Þat are was blith als brid on brere.
Inglis men sall pit to þere
Knok pi palet or pou pas,
And mak þe polled like a frere:
And zit es Ingland als it was.

Was pou noght, Franceis, with pi wapin
Bitwixen Cressy and Abuyle?
Whare pi felaws lien and gapin,
For all þaire treget and þaire gile.
Bisschopþes war pare in þat while
þat songen all withouten stole:
Philip þe Valas was a file,
He fled and durst noght tak his dole.
Men delid pare ful mani a dint
Omang þe gentill Geneuayse;
Ful many man þaire liues tint
For luf of Philip þe Valays.
Vnkind he was and vncurtayse,
I prais no thing his puruiance;Þe best of France and of Artayse
War al to-dongyn in þat daunce.

þat daunce with treson was bygun
To trais þe bare with sum fals gyn:
þe Franche men said, All es wun,
Now es it tyme þat we bigin,
For here es welth inogh to win,
To make vs riche for euermore:
Bot, thurgh þaire armure thik and thin
Slaine þai war, and wounded sore.

Sore þan sighed sir Philip;
Now wist he neuer what him was best,
For he es cast doun with a trip:
In Iohn of France es all his trest,
For he was his frend faithfulest,
In him was full his affiance:
Bot sir Edward wald neuer rest,
Or þai war feld þe best of France.

Of France was mekill wo, i-wis,
And in Paris pa high palays:
Now had þe bare with mekill blis
Bigged him bifor Calais.
Heres now how þe romance sais
How sir Edward, oure king with croune,
Held his sege bi nightes and dais
With his men bifor Calays toune.





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