Translation.—The flourishing deeds of Edward King of the English oblige me to talk, for it is shameful to let pass famous actions in silence. He, while yet in his tender youth, went through many conflicts with a manly heart. Warlike as a pard, fragrant with sweetness like spikenard, whilst Edward is in his vigour, behold he shines like a new Richard. Thus the Britons have a double claim to honour, by the wars of Edward equally and by the valour of Richard. France praised the manners of the warlike youth; the ample hand of the giver amassed merited honours. The envious people desiring to extinguish his merited praise, began to weave new plots in their mind: the English nobles, by inventing a new law, made a wretched land of a rich kingdom. The king his father, and his uncle, with their two children, are governed by their subjects, out of which many evils follow. The degenerate race of the English, which used to serve, inverting the order of things, ruled over the king and his children. The people conspires, in order to enjoy a new law; soon after, the league being broken, horrid wars arise. While the populace associated with itself the Earl of Leicester, it accumulated for itself internal exhaustion. The impious people attacks its own king, makes captive the son with his father and uncle, next seizes upon the government; the victors rejoice, their hearts swell. Edward escapes, and immediately new battles follow. He calls together assistance, leagues are established, the army of the leader increased, the deluded troop laments its crimes. The parties meet; weapons are clashed; the fields are moistened with blood by the vigour of the soldier Edward. The Earl is slain by the sword; the barons are put to death with the weapon’s point; thus the vanquished conquer, and the conquerors are overcome. Although by sedition almost robbed of his own kingdom, he overcame the conquering legions by a wonderful effort. The noble offspring carried back his father to the government of the kingdom, wickedly wrested from him, which he had long ruled. The conquered populace roars, and again joins its warlike squadrons to the barons; fortifies towns with provisions and weapons. Soon after the isle of Ely is ravaged by the popular leaders. London, the capital city of our kingdom, is occupied by some, and is shaken with fearful strife; but all these difficulties are conquered with wonderful strength. Peace, wished for, returns; the arms are laid by; clouds have given place to sunshine; the joys of the English increase. The active Edward, flying from idleness, next took up the sign of the cross, desirous of performing a worthy service to Christ, who had delivered him from this whirlwind of wars; a pious troop of men follows. The King of Sicily, brother of the King of France, had conducted a vast host to the kingdom of Tunis, that he might recover the tribute which had been refused, saying that this would be a safe way for the whole army to the Holy Land; the people which was signed with the cross lamented to see its object thus unpropitiously changed. Edward follows in the belief that there will be powerful fighting with the Saracens; but the Gentile King wisely avoiding battle, paid whatever he asked. King Louis dies with his eldest son; France lamented; King Charles returns, and brings back the troops, the English with the Sicilians; the anxious Britons wept. The King of Sicily wickedly broke his vow of crusading, and the people, deceived, lamented his changing. He arrives at the port of Trapeni; soon a whirlwind from the north strikes the fleet; multitudes of people perish; all the money is sunk; but the English fleet is providentially saved, without losing the value of a farthing. The king refuses to proceed, or to perform his vow. The pious leader of the English and all his company alike embark, pass the sea, and make for the places which were besieged by the Gentiles, pressed under a long lasting storm. Acre takes breath, rejoicing in such a soldier, and rises as it were from the grave to sing new songs of praise. The Soldan was enraged, and thought to slay the noble leader, whom he caused to be stabbed by a detestable butcher. This assassin brought pretended messages from the Old Man of the Mountain, which were but false pretences; he enters the chamber and shuts the door; with a knife he adds wound upon wound; but Edward, on the other hand, resisted strenuously; with his strength he laid prostrate the murderer, whom he slew with a merited death by his own weapon. And because Christ knew that his servant was worthy, he healed his wounds with a sacred medicine.
Popular dissatisfaction may be traced throughout Edward’s reign, we may venture to say from the day in which he mounted the throne. The following song seems to have been popular soon after his accession; and it is written in Latin and Anglo-Norman, in order that it might be sung more generally. In the manuscript, each stanza of the Latin is followed by the corresponding stanza in Anglo-Norman. Between the Latin lines of the first stanza is left space apparently for music.
A SONG ON THE TIMES.
[From MS. Harl. 746, fol. 103 vo, of the beginning of the reign of Edw. I.]
Vulneratur karitas, amor ægrotatur:
Regnat et perfidia, livor generatur.
Fraus primatum optinet, pax subpeditatur;
Fides vincta carcere nimis desolatur.