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Wace, 110-1174

"Arthurian Chronicles: Roman de Brut"


Vortigern rejoiced greatly at these words. He made much of his Picts,
and honoured them more sweetly than ever before. On a day when they
had sat long at their cups, and all were well drunken, Vortigern came
amongst them in the hall. He saluted them sadly, showing the semblance
of a woeful man. "Right dear are you to my heart;" said he, "very
willingly have I served you, and right gladly would I serve you still,
if but the wealth were mine. But this realm belongs altogether to the
king. Naught can I bestow, nothing is mine to spend, save only that I
render him account of every doit. So little revenue is mine of this
land, that it becomes me to seek my fortune beyond the sea. I have set
my whole intent to serve my king to the utmost of my might, and for
recompense have of him such estate that I can maintain scarce forty
sergeants to my household. If all goes well with me we may meet again,
for I commend me to your goodwill. This weighs heavily upon me that
I must leave you now. But, beggar as I am, I can do no other; only I
entreat you this, that if you hear my business has come to a fair end,
you will of a surety seek my love again." For all his piteous speech
Vortigern was false, and had falsely spoken, but those who had well
drunken gave faith to his words.


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