Inglond now is cald, for Inglis men we fynd
þe folk þat is þerin, it is of diuers kynd.
He sais þis lond has suffred so many tyme wo,
Fiue sorowes he writes withouten oþer mo.
þo ilk fiue sorowes he calles fiue woundes,
þat ere not ȝit haled, ne salle be many stoundes.
Noþeles þe clerk Merlyn sais certeyn,
That Bretons at þe last salle haf þis lond agayn,
Whan Cadwaldre salle calle with him þe kyng Konan,
What tyme it salle falle, ȝit wote no man.
Now of fiue sorowes, þat ȝit not endid are,
Henry in his writyng telles what þei ware.
THE first of þise fiue was þorgh Romeyns, [Quinque plagarum terræ pri|ma plaga fuit.]
That wan it of Casbalan in to þer demeyns.
Grete treuage þei toke of þis lond here.
þre þousand pounde of gold to paye ilk a ȝere.
& four hundred ȝere lastid þat ilk wo,
þei mad þe lond fulle pouere, þe folk ded þei slo.
¶ þe toþer sorow of þis lond mykelle gan it greue, [Secunda plaga.]
þe Scottes & þe Peihtes togider gan þei cheue,
To waste alle Northumberland, þe godes away þei ledde,
þat men with þe bestes in feldes þei þam fedde.
¶ The þrid sorow of þis lond com þorgh þe Sessons, [Tercia pla|ga.]
þat ten siþes aryued vppon þe Bretons,
& siþen were chaced ageyn aw with maistrie,
& eft aryued on þam here þorgh quantise of spie.
At þe last þei chaced out þe Bretons so clene,
Away vnto Wales þer kynd is I wene.
