Source Book of London History, from the earliest times to 1800

by Unknown

LONDON LICKPENNY (Early Fifteenth Century).

This poem is generally ascribed to John Lydgate, a disciple of Chaucer, but the authorship is doubtful. Whatever its poetical merit may be, it is full of interest as a picture of contemporary life in London, and the description of the adventures of the poor countryman, endeavouring to obtain legal justice in the metropolis, lacks neither pathos nor humour.

Source.—Minor Poems of Lydgate, edited by Halliwell, p. 103.

To London once my stepps I bent,

Where trouth in no wyse should be faynt,

To Westmynster-ward I forthwith went,

To a man of law to make complaynt,

I sayd, "For Marys love, that holy saynt!

Pity the poore that wold proceede;"

But for lack of mony I could not spede.

And as I thrust the prese amonge,

By froward chaunce my hood was gone,

Yet for all that I stayd not longe,

Tyll to the kyngs bench I was come.

Before the judge I kneled anone,

And prayd hym for Gods sake to take heede;

But for lack of mony I myght not speede.

Beneth them sat clarkes a great rout,

Which fast dyd wryte by one assent,

There stoode up one and cryed about,

Rychard, Robert, and John of Kent.

I wyst not well what this man ment,

He cryed so thycke there indede;

But he that lackt mony myght not spede.

Unto the common place I yode thoo,

Where sat one with a sylken hoode;

I dyd hym reverence, for I ought to do so,

And told my case as well as I coode,

How my goods were defrauded me by falshood.

I gat not a mum of his mouth for my meed,

And for lack of mony I myght not spede.

Unto the Rolls I gat me from thence,

Before the clarkes of the chauncerye,

Where many I found earnying of pence,

But none at all once regarded mee.

I gave them my playnt uppon my knee;

They lyked it well, when they had it reade:

But lackyng money I could not be sped.

In Westmynster hall I found out one,

Which went in a long gown of raye;

I crowched and kneled before hym anon,

For Maryes love, of help I hym praye.

"I wot not that thou meanest," gan he say:

To get me thence he did me bede,

For lack of mony I cold not speed.

Within this hall, neither rich nor yett poore

Wold do for me ought, although I shold dye.

Which seing, I gat me out of the doore,

Where Flemynges began on me for to cry,

"Master, what will you copen or by?

Fyne felt hattes, or spectacles to reede?

Lay down your sylver, and here you may speede."

Then to Westmynster-Gate I presently went,

When the sonn was at hyghe pryme;

Cookes to me, they tooke good entente,

And proffered me bread, with ale and wyne,

Rybbs of befe, both fat and ful fyne.

A fayre cloth they gan for to sprede;

But wantyng mony I myght not then speede.

Then unto London I dyd me hye,

Of all the land it beareth the pryse:

Hot pescodes, one began to crye,

Strabery rype, and cherryes in the ryse;

One bad me come nere and by some spyce,

Peper and safforne they gan me bede,

But for lack of mony I myght not spede.

Then to the Chepe I began me drawne,

Where mutch people I saw for to stande;

One ofred me velvet, sylke, and lawne,

An other he taketh me by the hande,

"Here is Parys thred, the fynest in the land;"

I never was used to such thyngs indede,

And wantyng mony I myght not spede.

Then went I forth by London stone,

Throughout all Canwyke streete;

Drapers mutch cloth me offred anone;

Then comes me one cryed hot shepes feete;

One cryde makerell, ryster grene, an other gan greete;

One bad me by a hood to cover my head,

But for want of mony I myght not be sped.

Then I hyed me into Est-Chepe;

One cryes rybbs of befe, and many a pye;

Pewter pottes they clattered on a heape;

There was harpe, pype, and mynstrelsye.

"Yea, by cock! nay, by cock!" some began crye;

Some songe of Jenken and Julyan for their mede;

But for lack of mony I myght not spede.

Then into Corn-Hyl anon I yode,

Where was mutch stolen gere amonge;

I saw where honge myne owne hoode,

That I had lost amonge the thronge:

To by my own hood I thought it wronge,

I knew it well as I dyd my crede,

But for lack of mony I could not spede.

The taverner took mee by the sleeve,

"Sir," sayth he, "wyll you our wyne assay?"

I answered, that can not mutch me greve,

A peny can do no more then it may,

I drank a pynt and for it dyd paye;

Yet sone a hungerd from thence I yode,

And wantyng mony I cold not spede.

Then hyed I me to Belyngsgate;

And one cryed, "hoo! go we hence!"

I prayd a barge man, for God's sake,

That he wold spare me my expence.

"Thou scapst not here," quod he, "under ij. pence;

I lyst not yet bestow any almes dede."

Thus lackyng mony I could not speede.

Then I convayd me into Kent;

For of the law wold I meddle no more;

Because no man to me tooke entent,

I dyght me to do as I dyd before.

Now Jesus, that in Bethlem was bore,

Save London, and send trew lawyers there mede!

For who so wantes mony with them shall not spede.