The Political Songs of England: From the Reign of John to That of Edward II

by Unknown

POLITICAL SONGS.

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[KING JOHN. 1199–1216.]

The thirteenth century opens amid the violence of party feelings, and the few political songs which we find during the reign of King John are full of keenness. Early in his reign the English Monarch suffered himself to be robbed of his possessions in Normandy, and the poetry of the Troubadours contains many expressions of regret at their separation from England, and bitter reflections on the King’s cowardice and weakness. The following song seems to have been written when Thouars was in danger, during Philippe Auguste’s incursions into Poitou, in 1206. Savary of Mauleon is famous in contemporary history, and was himself a poet of no small renown. He was a firm adherent to the English party.

SONG ON THE SIEGE OF THOUARS.

[Royal Library at Paris, MS. du fonds de St. Germain, No. 1989, fol. 111, v^o. 13th cent.]

Mors est li siècles briemant,

Se li rois Touwairs sormonte;

De ceu li vait malement

Ke li faillent li troi conte,

Et li vieillairs de Bouaing

I averait grant honte,

C’après la mort à vifconte

Morrait à si mauté.

Savaris de Maliéon,

Boens chiveliers à cintainne,

Se vos fals à ces besons,

Perdue avons nostre poinne;

Et vos, xanexals

Asi d’Anjow et dou Mainne,

Xanexal ont an Torainne

Atre ke vos mist.

Et vos, sire xanexals,

Vos et Dan Jehan dou Mainne,

Et Ugues, antre vos trois

Mandeis à roi d’Alemaigne,

Ke cist rois et cil Fransois

C’ameir ne nos d[a]ignent,

Cant por .j. mulet d’Espaigne

Laxait Bordelois.

Et vos, signors bacheleirs,

Ki ameis lois et proeses,

Cant vos souliez garreir

Touwairs iert vos forteresce.

Jà Deus ne vos doust porteir

Ne mainche ne treses,

Se Touwairt au teil tristesce

Laixiez oblieir.

Translation.—The world will shortly come to nought,—if the king overcome Thouars.—On this account it fares ill with it,—that the three earls desert it,—and the old man of Bouaing—would have there great shame,—that after the death of the viscount—he should die in such evil case.

Savary of Mauleon,—a good knight at the quintain,—if you fail us in this need,—we have lost our labour;—and you, Seneschal,—both of Anjou and of Maine,—they have placed a seneschal in Touraine—other than you.

And you, Sir Seneschal,—you and Sir John of Maine,—and Hugh, between you three,—send word to the King of Almain,—that this king and him of France,—deign not to love us,—when for a mule of Spain—he left the Bordelois.

And you, Sir bachelors,—who love praise and prowess,—when you were wont to war—Thouars was your fortress.—Now God hinder you from bearing—sleeves or tresses,—if Thouars in such distress—you allow to be forgotten.

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John’s own friends, disgusted with his weakness, began to desert him; and the following bitter song was addressed by the younger Bertrand de Born, to Savary de Mauleon, to persuade him to follow their example.

A SIRVENTE ON KING JOHN.

[Raynouard, Choix, tom. iv. p. 201.]

Quant vei lo temps renovellar,

E pareis la fueill’ e la flors,

Mi dona ardimen amors

E cor e saber de chantar;

E doncs, pois res no m’ en sofraing,

Farai un Sirvent escozen,

Que trametrai lai par presen

Al rei Joan que s n’a vergoing.

E deuria s’ be’n vergoignar,

Si l’ membres de sos ancessors,

Com laissa sai Peitieus e Tors

Al rei Felip ses demandar;

Per que tota Guiana plaing

Lo rei Richard, qu’ en deffenden

En mes mant aur e mant argen;

Mas acest no m’ par ’n aia soing.

Mais ama l’ bordir e l’ cassar,

E bracs e lebriers et austors,

E sojorn; per que il faill honors,

E s’ laissa vius deseretar;

Mal sembla d’ardimen Galvaing,

Que sai lo viram plus soven;

E pois autre cosseil non pren,

Lais sa terra al seignor del Groign.

Miels saup Lozoics desliurar

Guillelme, e l’ fes ric secors

Ad Aurenga, quan l’Almassors

A Tibaut l’ac fait asetjar:

Pretz et honor ’n ac ab gazaing;

Jeu o dic per chastiamen

Al rei Joan que pert sa gen,

Que non lor secor pres ni loing.

Baron, sai vir mon chastiar

A vos, cui blasme las follors

Que us vei far, e pren m’en dolors,

Car m’ aven de vos a parlar,

Que pretz avetz tombat e’ l’ faing,

Et avetz apres un fol sen,

Que non doptas chastiamen,

Mas qui us ditz mal, aquel vos oing.

Domna, cui dezir e tenc car

E dopt e blan part las meillors,

Tant es vera vostra lauzors

Qu’ieu non la sai dir ni comtar;

C’aissi com aurs val mais d’estaing,

Valetz mais part las meillors cen,

Et ez plus leials vas joven

Non son a Dieu cill de Cadoing.

Savarics, reis cui cors sofraing

Greu fara bon envasimen,

E pois a flac cor recrezen,

Jamais nuls hom en el non poing.

Translation.—When I see the fair weather return,—and leaf and flower appear,—love gives me hardiesse—and heart and skill to sing;—then, since I do not want matter,—I will make a stinging sirvente,—which I will send yonder for a present,—to King John, to make him ashamed.

And well he ought to be ashamed,—if he remember his ancestors,—how he has left here Poitou and Touraine—to King Philip, without asking for them.—Wherefore all Guienne laments—King Richard, who in its defence—would have laid out much gold and much silver;—but this man does not appear to me to care much for it.

He loves better fishing and hunting,—pointers, greyhounds, and hawks,—and repose, wherefore he loses his property,—and his fief escapes out of his hands;—Galvaing seems ill-furnished with courage,—so that we beat him here most frequently;—and since he takes no other counsel,—let him leave his land to the lord of the Groing.

Louis knew better how to deliver—William, and gives him rich succour—at Orange, when the Almassor—had caused Tiebald to besiege him;—glory and honour he had with profit;—I say it for a lesson—to King John who loses his people,—because he succours them not near or far off.

Barons, on this side my lesson of correction aims—at you, whose delinquencies it blames—that I have seen you do, and I am grieved thereat,—for it falls to me to speak of you,—who have let your credit fall into the mud,—and afterwards have a foolish sentiment,—that you do not fear correction,—but he who told you ill, it is he who disgraces you.

Lady, whom I desire and hold dear,—and fear and flatter above the best,—so true is your praise,—that I know not how to say it or to relate it;—that, as gold is more worth than tin,—you are worth more than the best hundred,—and you are better worth to a young man,—than are they (the monks) of Caen to God.

Savary, a king without a heart,—will hardly make a successful invasion,—and since he has a heart soft and cowardly,—let no man put his trust in him.

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The dishonours which John suffered abroad, were, however, soon forgotten in the troubles which broke out at home. The following virulent libel on the three bishops of Norwich, Bath, and Winchester, who adhered to the King in his quarrel with the Pope about the presentation to the see of Canterbury, was no doubt the work of one of his ecclesiastical opponents.

SONG ON THE BISHOPS.

[Flacius Illyricus, p. 161.]

Planctus super Episcopis.

Complange tui, Anglia,

Melos suspendens organi;

Et maxime tu, Cantia,

De mora tui Stephani.

Thomam habes sed alterum,

Secundum habes iterum

Stephanum, qui trans hominem

Induens fortitudinem

Signa facit in populo.

Dolos dolens metropolis

Quos subdoli parturiunt,

Orbata tuis incolis,

Dolose quos ejiciunt,

Largos emittis gemitus,

Patre privata penitus.

Sed cum habebis Stephanum,

Assumes tibi tympanum,

Chelym tangens sub modulo.

Ubi es, quæso, Moyses,

Per quem cedat confractio?

Ubi legem zelans Phinees,

Per quem cesset quassatio?

Quis natum David arguens?

Quis Thaü signum statuens

In limine et postibus,

Ut sic confusis hostibus

Liberetur Israel?

Abraham, pater gentium

Multarum, surge, domine,

Agar expelle filium,

Saræ ancillæ dominæ;

Nam post subducet aliam.

Jam adversus ecclesiam

Prævalent portæ Tartari:

Jam ludo ludunt impari

Isaac et Ismael.

Balthasar bibit iterum

De vasis templi Domini:

Vasa rapit vas scelerum

Dei dicata nomini.

Scribentem cerno digitum,

Et literis implicitum

Scriptis, “Mane, Tecchel, Phares;”

Quid sibi velit ea res,

Rei probabit exitus.

Jam patet in prætorio,

Et infimis et arduis,

Quod regni jam divisio

Et finis est in januis.

Crescit malorum cumulus,

Est sacerdos ut populus,

Currunt ad illicitum,

Uterque juxta libitum

Audax et imperterritus.

Plebs in Ægypti cophino

Servit, et sudat anxia

Sub Pharaone domino:

Edicta currunt varia:

Exactor opus exigit,

Israel lutum colligit.

Non est qui eum eruat,

Vel Pharaonis subruat

Equos cum ascensoribus.

Spargit Assur ac dejicit

Lapides Sanctuarii.

Quare? quia non objicit

Se lapis adjutorii.

Imo qui se objicere

Deberent, et effundere

Sanguinem pro justitia,

Tractant de avaritia,

Quos his noto apicibus.

Si præsuli Bathoniæ

Fiat quandoque quæstio,

Quot marcæ bursæ regiæ

Accedant in scaccario:

Respondet voce libera,

Mille, centum, et cætera,

Ad bursam regis colligo,

Doctus in hoc decalogo,

Cæcus in forma canonis.

Tu, Norwicensis bestia,

Audi quid dicat veritas:

Qui non intrat per ostia

Fur est. An de hoc dubitas?

Heu! cecidisti gravius

Quam Cato quondam tertius:

Cum præsumpta electio

Justo ruat judicio,

Empta per dolum Simonis.

Wintoniensis armiger

Præsidet ad Scaccarium,

Ad computandum impiger,

Piger ad Evangelium,

Regis revolvens rotulum;

Sic lucrum Lucam superat,

Marco marcam præponderat,

Et libræ librum subjicit.

Hi Belphegor prænunciant,

Et sedem Baal subjiciunt;

Ut melius proficiant,

Baal sibi præficiunt,

Complectuntur pro niveis

Nigra, stercus pro croceis.

Hi tres insatiabiles,

Sanguisugis persimiles,

“Affer,” dicunt, “non sufficit.”

Tres tribus his appositi

Sunt, sed longe dissimiles,

Virtutum flore præditi,

Morum vigore nobiles,

Noe, David, et Daniel,

Quos depingit Ezechiel.

Justitiam hi sitiunt,

Ob hæc sese objiciunt

Murum pro domo Domini.

Joannes nostri temporis

Surgit Decanus Angliæ,

Canus mente, vi roboris

Stratam vadit justiciæ,

Canit laudum præco nia

Qui jure de Ecclesia

Mariæ nomen accipit,

Dum conflictum hunc suscipit

Sacræ devotus Virgini.

Heliensis progreditur,

Huïc datur discrimini,

Heli ut ensis dicitur,

Parcens paucis, vel nemini.

Helia, ensem exere,

Et impios tres contere,

Ac Babylonis principem

Hujus doli participem

Ictu prosterne simplici.

Tu, Wolstani subambule,

Es in conflictu tertius,

Robustus insta sedule

Triumphi veri conscius.

Hæres Wolstani diceris,

Si vere sit, tu videris:

Prius resigna baculum,

Et ephod et annulum,

Quam Baal velis subjici.

De Roffensi episcopo

Nil scio mali dicere.

Mentior et rem syncopo:

Hic est, et hic a latere

Est pauper Sarisburiæ,

Qui dormit usque hodie,

Ignem et aquam bajulat,

Nec causatur, nec ejulat

Pro desolata vinea.

I Romam, liber parvule,

Nec remeare differas,

Saluta quosque sedule,

Et Papæ salve differas.

Dic quid de tribus sentiam.

Ipse promat sententiam,

Utrum suo judicio

Sint liberi a vitio;

Et michi detur venia.

Translation.—Complain, O England! and suspend the melody of thine organ, and more especially thou, Kent, for the delay of thy Stephen. But thou hast another Thomas; thou hast again a second Stephen, who putting on a fortitude beyond that of man, performs signs among the people. O metropolis! who grievest over the plots which the cunning people bring forth, bereaved of thine inhabitants, whom they treacherously have ejected, thou givest vent to heavy groans, being utterly deprived of thy father. But when thou shalt have Stephen, thou wilt take up the timbrel, and touch the harp to measure.

Where art thou, I ask, O Moses! through whom may the rupture cease? Where Phineas, zealous for the law, through whom the scourging may have an end? Who is there to accuse the son of David? Who is there that may set the sign of Thau on the threshold and the door-posts, that thus, her enemies being confused, Israel may be liberated? Abraham, father of many people, arise, lord, expel the son of Agar, the waiting-maid of her mistress Sarah; for after she shall deceive the other. Now the gates of Tartarus prevail against the Church: now Isaac and Ismael play at an unequal game.

Balthasar drinks again out of the vessels of the Lord’s temple: the vessel of iniquities carries away the vessels dedicated to God’s name. I perceive the hand, writing, and involved in the written letters, “Mane, Techel, Phares;” what this thing may mean, the event of the thing will prove. Now it appears in the court, both to the low and the high, that at present the division and end of the kingdom is at the gate. The mass of evils increases; the priest is as the people; they, bold and fearless, hasten to that which is unlawful, each according to his will.

The people serves in the coffer of Egypt, and anxiously sweats under the rule of Pharaoh: various edicts fly about: the collector exacts the work, Israel collects clay. There is no one who may rescue him, or who may overwhelm the horses of Pharaoh with their riders. Assur scatters and overthrows the stones of the Sanctuary. Why? because the Stone of Help does not oppose itself. Nay, they who ought to oppose, and to shed their blood for justice’s sake, are occupied with avarice, whom I signalise by these marks.

If the question were perchance asked of the bishop of Bath, “How many marks come in to the King’s purse in the Exchequer?” he would answer readily, “A thousand, a hundred, and so on, I collect into the King’s purse,” learned as he is in this decalogue, blind in the form of the canon. Thou, beast of Norwich! hear what the Truth saith: “He who enters not by the door is a thief.” Dost thou doubt of this? Alas! thou hast fallen more heavily than once the third Cato, since thy presumed election falls by just judgment, having been bought by the craft of Simon.

The arm-bearer of Winchester presides at the Exchequer, diligent in computing, sluggish at the Gospel, turning over the King’s roll; thus lucre overcomes Luke; he makes a marc weigh heavier than Mark, and subjects the bible to the scales. These are they who fore-show Belphegor; they subject the seat to Baal; that they may profit better, they make Baal their lord; they embrace black for white, dung instead of saffron. These three are insatiable—very like unto leeches; they cry, “Give! there is not enough!”

There are three opposed to these, but very unlike them, endowed with the flower of virtues, noble in the vigour of good-breeding—Noah, David, and Daniel, whom Ezechiel paints. These thirst after justice; for this they oppose themselves as a wall for God’s house. John arises the dean of England of our time, hoary in mind: with the might of oak, he proceeds on the way of justice; he sings the proclamations of praises, who rightly takes his name from the church of Mary, while he undertakes this conflict in devotion to the Holy Virgin.

He of Ely advances; he is given to this battle, as he is called the Sword of Hely, sparing few or none. Helias, draw forth the sword, and bruise the three impious ones, and lay prostrate the prince of Babylon, the participater in this plot, with a single blow. Thou, who walkest in the place of Wolstan, art the third in the conflict: robust as thou art, press on sedulously, certain of a true triumph. Thou art called the heir of Wolstan; if thou be truly so, thou art seen: sooner resign the staff, and the ephod, and the ring, than be willing to bow to Baal.

I know nothing ill to say of the bishop of Rochester. I lie, and cut the matter short; he is here, and here by his side the poor man of Salisbury also, who sleeps till to-day; he carries about fire and water, nor pleads for, nor bewails, the desolated vineyard. Go to Rome, little book, nor delay thy return; salute them all diligently; and carry a salutation to the Pope: tell what I think of the three: let him give judgment, whether in his opinion they be free from vice; and let pardon be granted to me.

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It was during these religious dissensions that arose up, or at least became strong, that powerful spirit of opposition to the papal tyranny, which produced during the whole of this century so much satirical poetry; much of it attributed, perhaps with little reason, to Walter Mapes. The following song is supposed to have been written during the interdict. In the fourth line the lion is said to designate King John, and the asses the Bishops, and at the end the King is represented by Jupiter, whilst the Pope receives the contemptuous designation of Pluto.

SONG ON THE TIMES.

[MS. Harl. 978, fol. 108, r^o. Reign of Hen. III.]

Invectio contra avaritiam.

Utar contra vitia carmine rebelli;

Mel proponunt alii, fel supponunt melli,

Pectus subest ferreum deauratæ pelli,

Et leonis spolium induunt aselli.

Disputat cum animo facies rebellis,

Mel ab ore defluit, mens est plena fellis;

Non est totum melleum quod est instar mellis;

Facies est alia pectoris quam pellis.

Vitium est in opere, virtus est in ore,

Picem tegunt animi niveo colore:

Membra dolent singula capitis dolore,

Et radici consonat pomum in sapore.

Roma mundi caput est, sed nil capit mundum:

Quod pendet a capite totum est inmundum;

Transit enim vitium primum in secundum,

Et de fundo redolet quod est juxta fundum.

Roma capit singulos et res singulorum;

Romanorum curia non est nisi forum.

Ibi sunt venalia jura senatorum,

Et solvit contraria copia nummorum.

Hic in consistorio si quis causam regat

Suam, vel alterius, hoc in primis legat,—

Nisi det pecuniam Roma totum negat,

Qui plus dat pecuniæ melius allegat.

Romani capitulum habent in decretis,

Ut petentes audiant manibus repletis:

Dabis, aut non dabitur, petunt quia petis;

Qua mensura seminas, et eadem metis.

Munus et petitio currunt passu pari,

Opereris munere si vis operari:

Tullium ne timeas si velit causari,

Nummus eloquentia gaudet singulari.

Nummis in hac curia non est qui non vacet;

Crux placet, rotunditas, et albedo placet,

Et cum totum placeat, et Romanis placet,

Ubi nummus loquitur, et lex omnis tacet.

Si quo grandi munere bene pascas manum,

Frustra quis objiciet vel Justinianum,

Vel sanctorum canones, quia tanquam vanum

Transferunt has paleas, et inbursant granum.

Solam avaritiam Roma novit parca,

Parcit danti munera, parco non est parca:

Nummus est pro numine, et pro Marco marca,

Et est minus celebris ara, quam sit arca.

Cum ad papam veneris, habe pro constanti,

Non est locus pauperi, soli favet danti;

Vel si munus præstitum non est aliquanti,

Respondet hic tibi sic, Non est michi tanti.

Papa, si rem tangimus, nomen habet a re,

Quicquid habent alii, solus vult papare;

Vel si verbum Gallicum vis apocopare,—

Paez, Paez, dit li mot, si vis impetrare.

Papa quærit, chartula quærit, bulla quærit,

Porta quærit, cardinalis quærit, cursor quærit,

Omnes quærunt: et si quod des uni deerit,

Totum jus falsum est, tota causa perit.

Das istis, das aliis, addis dona datis,

Et cum satis dederis, quærunt ultra satis.

O vos bursæ turgidæ, Romam veniatis;

Romæ viget physica bursis constipatis.

Prædantur marsupium singuli paulatim;

Magna, major, maxima, præda fit gradatim.

Quid irem per singula? colligam summatim,—

Omnes bursam strangulant, et expirat statim.

Bursa tamen Tityi jecur imitatur,

Fugit res, ut redeat, perit, ut nascatur,

Et hoc pacto loculum Roma deprædatur,

Ut cum totum dederit, totus impleatur.

Redeunt a curia capite cornuto:

Ima tenet Jupiter, cœlum tenet Pluto,

Et accedit dignitas animali bruto,

Tanquam gemma stercori et pictura luto.

Divites divitibus dant, ut sumant ibi,

Et occurrunt munera relative sibi:

Lex est ista celebris, quam fecerunt scribi,

Si tu michi dederis, ego dabo tibi. Finit.

Translation.—I will use against vices rebelling song; others put forward honey, while under the honey they lay on gall; the iron breast is concealed under the gilt skin, and asses put on the lion’s spoil.—The rebelling face disputes with the soul within; honey flows from the mouth, the mind is full of gall; it is not all sweet that looks like honey; the breast has a different countenance from the skin.—While vice is in the work, virtue is in the face; they cover the pitchy blackness of the mind with a white colour; each of the members suffers by the pain of the head, and the flavour of the apple depends upon the root from whence it springs.—Rome is the head of the world; but it receives nothing clean; all that depends from the head is unclean; for the first vice passes on into the second, and that which is near the bottom smells of the bottom.—Rome receives all, and the goods of all; the court of the Romans is but a market. There are offered for sale the rights of the senators, and abundance of money dissolves all differences of opinion.—Here, in the consistory, if any body plead a cause, be it his own or another’s, let him first read this,—“Unless he give money, Rome denies every thing; he who gives most money will come off the best.”—The Romans have a chapter in the decretals, that they should listen to petitions from those who come with their hands full; thou shalt give, or nothing shall be granted thee; they ask because thou askest; by the same measure as you sow, you shall reap.—A bribe and a petition go side by side, and it is with a bribe that you must work if you wish to succeed: then you need have no fear, even of Tully, were he pleading against you; for money possesses a singular eloquence.—There is nobody in this court who does not look after money: the cross on the coin pleases them; the roundness of it, and the whiteness thereof, pleases them; and since every part of it pleases, and it is the Romans whom it pleases, where money speaks, there all law is silent.—If you only feed the hand well with some goodly bribe, it will be in vain even to quote Justinian against you, or the canons of the saints, because they would throw them away as vanity and chaff, and pocket the grain.—Penurious Rome claims acquaintance with nothing but avarice; she spares to him who brings gifts, but she spares not to him who is penurious: money stands in the place of God, and a marc for Mark, and the altar is less attended than the coffer.—When you come to the Pope, take it as a rule, that there is no place for the poor, he favours only the giver; or if there is not a bribe of some value or another forthcoming, he answers you, “I am not able.”—The Pope, if we come to the truth of the matter, has his name from the fact, that, whatever others have, he alone will suck the pap; or if you like to apocopate a French word, “pay, pay,” saith the word, if you wish to obtain anything.—The Pope begs, the brief begs, the bull begs, the gate begs, the cardinal begs, the cursor begs,—all beg! and if you have not wherewith to bribe them all, your right is wrong, and the whole cause comes to nothing.—You give to these, you give to the others, you add gifts to those already given, and when you should have given enough, they seek as much more. O, you full purses, come to Rome! at Rome there is choice medicine for costive pockets.—They all prey upon the purse by little and little; great, greater, or greatest, gradually becomes a prey to them. Why should I go through all the particulars? I will put it in a few words; they all choke the purse, and it expires immediately.—Yet the purse imitates the liver of Tityus; the substance flies in order to return; dies that it may be born: and on this condition Rome preys upon the pocket, that when it has given all, it may all be filled again.—They return from the court with mitred heads; Jupiter is placed in the Infernal Regions, Pluto holds Heaven, and dignity is given to a brute animal, as a jewel to the dung and a picture to the mud.—The rich give to the rich, that they may receive again, and gifts mutually meet one another: that law is most in use, which they have caused to be written, “If you give to me, I will give to you.”

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[KING HENRY III. 1216–1272.]

The death of King John offered an opportunity of putting an end to the distractions that had become so universal during the latter years of his reign, which most of the belligerents were glad to embrace. The following short, but highly spirited poem, was probably written immediately after the pacification which followed the taking of Lincoln, apparently by a churchman, and certainly a partizan of King Henry. Some of the expressions in it, such as “the iron-girt bees of war,” and the like, remind us of the lofty metaphors of Saxon verse.

THE TAKING OF LINCOLN.

[From MS. Cotton. Vespas. B. XIII. fol. 130, v^o. in a hand of the beginning of the 14th Cent.]

¶ Incipiunt versus de Guerra Regis Johannis.

Serpserat Angligenam rabies quadrangula gentem.

In proprium jurata jugum, motuque minaci

Gens sibi degenerans, ut libera serviat, alta

Corruat, incolumis ægrotet, tuta pavescat,

Vendicat antiquas inimico consule leges;

Non legis libra, non juris luce, nec igne

Sacri consilii, sed nec lima rationis,

Fulgurat in vetitum spreta ratione voluntas.

¶ Prima fuit rabies proprio concepta tumore;

Altera belligeras Francorum traxerat alas;

Conduxit nigras Scottorum tertia turmas;

Flexit quarta leves tenui sub veste Galenses.

¶ Fœdera rumpuntur pacis, tonitrusque minaces;

Serpsit in attonitas corrupta licentia turres,

In quibus ægra fides latuit, medicumque salutis

Expectata diu, tandem de munere Christi

Convaluit, traxitque suas in bella cohortes.

¶ Hæc rabies patiente Deo permissa parumper

Non concessa fuit, ut molles fulmina mentes

Comburant, nec ut ira Dei confundat inermes.

Sed cordis scrutator oves deserta petentes

Errantesque diu proprio revocavit amore,

Vapulet ut meritas medicato verbere culpas,

Divinasque minas clementia patris amicans

Ubere materno lenivit verbera patris.

¶ Anglorum nutabat honor, regnique venustas,

Inclinata caput divini judicis iram

Senserat, et tumido timuit servire tyranno.

Pendula palma, diu dubio protracta favore,

Nunc risit Gallis, nunc risum contulit Anglis,

Verius applaudens istis, fallacius illis.

¶ Non tulit ulterius regem regnare furentem

Vindicis ira Dei; cecidit percussus ab illo

Cujus templa, domos, combusserat igne minaci.

A face fax oritur fati, flammæque furorem

Dum furit in regem febris vindicta fugavit.

Summus honos mors illa fuit, culmenque decoris

Attulit, in nullo quod erat superatus ab hoste,

Et tot erant hostes; victus victore superno,

Invictusque suos hostes moriendo momordit.

¶ Desinat ira tumens; discat servire potestas

Curvarique Deo, cui subdens colla resurget;

In surgendo cadet: brevis est humana potestas,

Et brevibus discat finem properare diebus.

¶ Planxerat extinctum regio viduata Johannem,

Degenerique timens sua subdere colla marito

Invocat Angligenas Anglorum lacrima vires;

Quo gravior dolor est, propior medicina doloris.

¶ Fulserat interea minimæ scintillula formæ,

Regia progenies, laceri spes unica regni,

Stella quasi succensa Deo, nubemque paternam

Exuit, irradians nova lux, stellasque fugatas

Fulmine de patrio pueri candela vocavit.

¶ O Pietas preciosa Dei! qui magna magistrat,

Fortia confundit, infirma levat, feritates

Fulminat, inflatos frangit, qui virginis alvo

Parvulus egressus, parvum suscepit alendum,

Ecclesiæque dedit gremio, quem matris in ulnas

Blanda parens recipit, nato blandita parentis

Obsequio, teneram capiti positura coronam.

Consilium cœleste fuit, quod consona sacri

Unio consilii regi parere puello

Non timuit, timuitque magis servire tyranno.

¶ Unio sacra novum maturat ad ardua regem;

Utilitas, pietasque, fides, concurrere fatis

Conjurant, cunctos[que] crucis signare sigillo;

Constiterant vexilla crucis, regemque novellum

Ambierant, bajulosque crucis crux alba decorans

Instabiles statuit fidei fundamine turmas.

¶ O famosa viri legatio, lima beati

Consilii, sidus recti, speculum rationis,

Gala dei cultor, curæ cristata galero!

Anglia victrices strinxit divinitus enses,

In commune bonum fundunt castella catervas

Signiferas, belloque truces, hostique minaces.

¶ Tempus erat quo terra novo pubescere partu

Cœperat, et teneras in crines solverat herbas,

Vellera pratorum redolens infantia florum

Pinxerat, et, renovas crispans coma primula silvas,

Innumeras avium revocavit ad organa linguas,

Gallica tum rabies aquilonis adhæserat Anglis,

Conjurata manus medios transire per Anglos,

Londoniis egressa suis, longasque latebras

Deseruit Lodovica cohors, comitesque superbos

Concessa pudet ire via, Montique Sorello

Subsidium ferale ferunt, nam quo magis illum

Major palma colit, graviorem ferre ruinam

Præcavet ira Dei; sed cautior inde recessit

Nobilitas comitum, fidei flos, regia virtus,

Cestrensis clipeus, donec frendente tumultu

Transierat rabies notum super ardua castrum,

Trigintæque latus, longique superbia belli

Fluxit ad obsessam matronæ nobilis arcem.

¶ Huc ubi fata feras fremitu flexere phalangas,

Fama volat, comitesque vocat, comitumque sodales

Cestrenses, crescitque seges clipeata virorum.

Regia signa micant, et conjurata sequuntur

Agmina, clara fides cum denique protrahit ora,

Candida signa crucis juvenum præstantia pingunt

Pectora, consolidat communis corda voluntas;

Vincendi spes una fuit, victoria cunctas

In facies præmissa patet, plausuque secundo

Permittunt socias in consona prælia dextras.

¶ Instabat sabbatum quo festa peracta superni

Flaminis, et trinum celebrat deitatis honorem

Vespera; sol prima lambebat lampade terras,

Cum tuba terribili dederat præludia cantu;

Bella movent ferrata duces, tot signa videres

Nutantes tremulo galeas superare volatu,

Tot clipeos vario mutantes signa colore.

Fulsit in armatas solaris gratia turmas,

Febricitabat iners, validabant corda feroces.

Venit ut attonitam constantia Martis ad urbem,

Terribili juvenes muros cinxere corona,

Rimanturque novos aditus; nec protinus urbem

Invasere duces; legatio mittitur intus

Sacrilegos revocare viros ad fœdera pacis.

Nec placuit pax ulla feris, convitia fundunt,

Legatos spernunt, adduntque minacia verba.

¶ Irrita legati postquam mandata reportant,

Magnanimos monet ire duces; tum bellicus horror

Infremuit, tonuere tubæ, mugitus in auras

Horridus insurgit, et, constrepitante tumultu,

Mirari poterant terrena tonitrua nubes.

Transiliunt fossas, transcendunt mœnia, portas

Confringunt, aditus rumpunt, et prælia miscent.

Et gladiis fecere viam; confusio digna

Sacrilegos sternit, fundunt examina Christi

Ferrigeras Mavortis apes, stimulisque timendis

Hostiles penetrant tunicas, squamosaque ferri

Texta secant, Saulosque trahunt ad vincula Pauli,

Reddidit et lepores conversio sacra leones.

¶ Hic Moyses in Monte stetit, Josue stationem

Fixerat hic solis, magnum premit inde Goliam

Funda lapisque David; vidit venerabile mirum

Lincolniensis honor, vidit maris ira trophæum

Imperiale Dei, vidit quadrangula pestis

In se victrici vexilla resurgere palma.

Vidit, et obstupuit, sensitque superbia belli

Pro puero pugnare Deum; nec sponte quievit,

Sed crepuit, pacisque pedes in colla recepit.

¶ O famosa dies, nostrum veneranda per ævum!

Bellica qua rabies latuit, qua pacifer ensis

Pestiferas domuit partes, qua gratia Christi

Dedecus extersit natum, fideique lavacro

Proluit inscriptum versa de fronte pudorem.

Expliciunt versus de Guerra regis Johannis.

Translation.—A four-fold rage had crept upon the English nation. Conspiring against its own government, and threatening rebellion, the degenerate nation,—that it may change freedom for slavery,—that it may fall from its high position, from health to sickness, from safety to danger,—lays claim to ancient laws under a hostile governor; not governed by the balance of the law, not by the light of justice, nor by the fire of holy counsel, nor yet by the file of reason, the will, in despite of reason, darts like lightning into what is forbidden. ¶ The first rage was conceived by its own pride; the second drew hither the warlike legions of the French; the third conducted the black troops of the Scots; the fourth bent the inconstant Welsh under their light garment. ¶ The leagues of peace are broken, and the threatening thunders follow; corrupt licence has crept into the astonished towers, in which Faith lay hid and sick, and long waiting a physician of health, at length by the generosity of Christ she recovered, and drew out her bands to the wars. ¶ This rage, by the sufferance of God, was permitted for a while, but not allowed that the lightnings should burn the effeminate minds, or that the anger of God should confound the defenceless. But the Searcher of hearts recalled by his own love the sheep which sought the desert and were long wandering, that he might correct the deserving faults with a healing lash, and reconciling his divine threats with paternal mercy, softened the corrections of a father with the love of a mother. ¶ The honour of the English bowed, and the comeliness of the Kingdom; its bending head had felt the anger of the divine judge, and feared to serve the proud tyrant. The balanced palm, long held out with dubious favour, now smiled on the French, now turned its smile to the English, applauding with more truth these latter, more deceitful to the others. ¶ The anger of an avenging God allowed no longer the furious king to reign; he fell, struck by him whose temples and houses he had burnt with threatening fire. From this torch arises the torch of fate, and the avenging fever, while it raged against the king, drove away the rage of the flame. That death was the highest honour, and was accompanied with the highest glory, that he was in nothing overcome by the enemy, amidst so many enemies; vanquished by the conqueror who is above, and unconquered, he bit his own enemies even in his death. ¶ Let proud anger cease; let power learn to serve and to bow to God, in submitting the neck to whom she elevates herself; in rising she falls: short is the power of man; and let it learn that the end approaches in a few days. ¶ The widowed state had mourned the death of John, and, fearing to bow the neck to a degenerate husband, the tear of the English calls up the strength of England; the heavier the grief, the nearer is its cure. ¶ Meanwhile had shone forth the minute spark of most small beauty, the royal offspring, sole hope of the torn Kingdom, a star, as it were, lit by God, it had divested itself of the cloud that obscured its father, shining forth a new light, and the candle of the child called back the stars which had been scared by the father’s thunder. ¶ O precious piety of God! who masters things that are great, confounds those that are strong, raises such as are infirm, strikes ferocity with lightning, breaks the haughty, who himself having come a child out of the virgin’s womb, thus took a child to nourish, gave it to the bosom of the Church, which the gentle parent receives in a mother’s arms, rendered gentle by the obedience now newly born, and about to place on its head a tender crown. It was heavenly ordinance, that the consonant union of holy counsel feared not to obey a boy king, and feared more to serve a tyrant. ¶ Sacred union matures the new king to lofty things; utility, and piety, and faith, swear together to concur with the fates, and to sign them all with the seal of the Cross; they had raised together the standard of the Cross and had ranged themselves round the new King, and the white cross decorating the bearers of the Cross fixed the unstable troops in the foundation of faith. ¶ O famous legation of a man! file of blessed council! star of right! mirror of reason! helmet of the worship of God! crested with the plume of care! England hath grasped her conquering swords by impulse of God; her castles pour forth for the common good the standard-bearing troops, fierce in war, and threatening the enemy. ¶ What time the Earth had begun to bloom with new fruitfulness, and had spread out her fresh grass in locks, redolent of flowers had painted the young fleece of the fields, and, whilst the new verdure curled the renascent woods, recalled innumerable tongues of birds to the song; then the Gallic fury had resolved to join the English of the north, the band having conspired to pass through the midst of the English, having issued from their London, the army of Louis deserted the long shades, and the proud earls have the shame of going the way that is open to them, and they carry fierce aid to Mountsorrel; for as a greater victory attends it, so has the anger of God ordained that it should not undergo a greater ruin. But with more caution retires thence the nobility of earls, the flower of the faith, the royal strength, the shield of Chester, until with roaring tumult the rage of the others had passed the famous castle on the heights (Nottingham), and the bank of Trent, and the pride of long war had flown to the besieged citadel of the noble matron (Lincoln). ¶ Hither when the fates have turned the fierce troops with a murmuring noise, Fame flies, and calls the earls, and the Cestrensian companions of the earls, and the shielded harvest of men increases. The royal standards glitter, and the conspiring bands follow, when clear faith at last draws out their faces, the bright signs of the Cross paint the excelling breasts of the youth, a common will strengthens their hearts; there was one sole hope of conquering; victory was already stamped on all their faces; and with a shout, ominous of good, they put forth their associated hands to the accordant battle. ¶ The sabbath was at hand in which the festival of the high God is performed, and the eve celebrates the triune honour of the deity; the sun was touching the earth with his first light, when the trumpet with its terrible song had given the flourish; the leaders move iron war; many were the standards you might see with tremulous flight above the nodding helms, many the shields changing their ensigns with various colours. The beauty of the sun shone upon the armed troops; the coward became feverish; the brave strengthened their hearts. When the constancy of war came to the astonished town, the youth encircled the walls with a fearful wreath, and seek new approaches; nor do the leaders immediately attack the city; a legation is sent in to summon the sacrilegious men to the league of peace. Yet no peace satisfied these fierce men; they utter insults, despise the messengers, and add threatening words. ¶ When the messengers bring back the angry message, the leaders order their bold followers to the attack; then the horror of war roared, the trumpets thundered, a fearful noise rose into the air, and in the resounding tumult the clouds might wonder at earthly thunders. They leap over the fosses, mount over the walls, break the gates, force the passages, and join battle. And they made way with their swords; a merited confusion strikes the sacrilegious men; the hives of Christ send forth the iron-girt bees of war, and with fearful stings they penetrate the hostile shirts, and cut the scaly textures of iron, and draw Sauls to the chains of Paul, and the holy conversion turned hares into lions. ¶ Here stood Moses in the Mount; here Josua had fixed the station of the sun; there the sling and stone of David overcome the great Golias; the honour of Lincoln sees the venerable wonder; the rage of the sea sees the imperial trophy of God; the four-fold plague sees the standards rise again against it with conquering palm. It saw, and was astonished; and the pride of war felt that God fought for the boy; nor was it quiet by its own will, but it burst, and received the feet of peace on its neck. ¶ O famous day, to be venerated through our age! in which the rage of war hid itself,—in which the peace-bringing sword subdued our pestiferous divisions,—in which the grace of Christ washed out the dishonour that had been brought forth, and, with the font of faith, cleansed from the averted brow the disgrace which had been inscribed on it.

---

All authorities agree in describing the great pride and avarice and luxury of the nobles in general, but particularly of the Romish prelates, at the beginning of the thirteenth century. The following song is a fair specimen of the unsparing satire which was universally directed against them by their contemporaries.

SONG ON THE CORRUPTIONS OF THE TIME.

[MS. Harl. No. 978. fol. 105, v^o. reign of Hen. III.]

Contra avaros.

Quam sit lata scelerum et quam longa tela

Sub qua latent pectora vitiis anhela,

Musa vultu lugubri refer et revela,

Si curas cor spectantis tetigisse querela.

Pensant vota miseræ gentis et prophanæ

Non virtutis pretium, set lini vel lanæ;

Vespere quod agitur est infectum mane,

O curas hominum, o quantum est [in] rebus inane!

Est ad jura quilibet oculus obtusus;

Omnis ad injurias animus diffusus;

Ad fortunæ prodeunt aleas et usus

Mille hominum spes et rerum discolor usus.

Cum Sabinæ conferant saltum meretrici,

Pauperizent Arabes sub toga mendici,

Suo neget Tydeus fidem Polynici,

Spectatum admissi, risum teneatis, amici?

Singulos per singula si nosse labores,

Qui cultores otii, qui doli structores,

Qui ministri Mammonæ, qui Dei spretores,

Ætatis cujusque notandi sunt mores.

Puer pede certior, odit fores, foras

Fugit, minus minimis colit res, honoras,

Et iram post gaudia, breves rumpens moras,

Colligit et ponit, temere mutatur in horas.

A custode juvenis evolat et seris,

Gaudet equis, canibus, aleis, et meris,

Venator libidinis, auceps mulieris,

Utilium tardus provisor, prodigus æris.

Vir ut præsit civibus, imperet prætori,

Ut extendat prædia fune longiori,

Et impregnet scrinia censu pleniori;

Quærit opes et amicitias, inservit honori.

Multa circumveniunt senem casus duri,

Vel quod eget, abstinens, census perituri,

Vel quod tractat gelide res, ut prosint furi,

Dilator, spe longus, iners, avidusque futuri.

Sic ætates variat temporum respectus,

Transit ætas tenera cordis in affectus,

Vir in alta, sed ei quem torquet senectus,

Fervet avaritia miseraque cupidine pectus.

Omnis ad hoc hominum animus senescit,

Qui dum quærit extra se res, quærens se nescit,

Non rebus crescentibus ambitus quiescit;

Crescit amor nummi quantum ipsa pecunia crescit.

Sed hoc uno veniam vitium meretur,

Quod cum rerum dominis semper dominetur;

Tanto mens conspectius quæ nil reveretur

Crimen habet, quanto qui peccat major habetur.

Roma, turpitudinis jacens in profundis,

Virtutes præposterat opibus inmundis,

Vacillantis animi fluctuans sub undis,

Diruit, ædificat, mutat quadrata rotundis.

Vultus blandos asperat, quibus nunc arrisit;

Sinu fovet placido quos prius elisit;

Dum monetam recipit, tractat, et revisit;

Quod petiit, spernit, repetit quod nuper omisit.

Si non recte percipit quocumque modo rem,

Et quem primo didicit non oblita morem,

Morem testæ redolet, quæ diutiorem

Quo semel est inbuta recens servabit odorem.

Coram cardinalibus, coram patriarcha,

Libra libros, reos res, Marcum vincit marca,

Tantumque dat gratiæ lex non parco parca,

Quantum quisque sua nummorum servat in arca.

Si stateram judicum quæris, quæras ære,

Cum ab ære pendeat gratia stateræ;

Non quæras inducias, sed quod quærunt quære,

Unde habeas quærit nemo, sed oportet habere.

Commissus notario munera suffunde;

Statim causæ subtrahet, quando, cur, et unde,

Et formæ subjiciet canones rotundæ,

Quem res plus nimio delectavere secundæ.

Roma cunctos erudit ut ad opus transvolent,

Plus quam Deo Mammonæ cor et manus inmolent,

Sic nimirum palmites mala stirpe redolent,

Cui caput infirmum cetera membra dolent.

Calcant archipræsules colla cleri prona,

Et extorquent lacrimas ut emungant dona;

Nec, si ferunt miseri pauca, vel non bona,

Æquis accipient animis, donantve corona.

Si de contumelia cæperit quis conqueri,

Statim causæ porrigunt aurem, manum muneri;

Si semel acceperint rem pluralis numeri,

Cras poterunt fieri turpia sicut heri.

Diligit episcopus hilarem datorem,

Fas et nefas ausus post muneris odorem,

Nescius resumere, post lapsum pudorem,

Ejectum semel attrita de fronte ruborem.

Nec archidiacono minor turpitudo,

Quem semel arripuit serio vel ludo

Tenet, nec misertus est inopi vel nudo;

Non missura cutem nisi plena cruoris hirudo.

Decanus insidias natus ad æternas,

Ut exploret symbolum et res subalternas,

Mutans linguæ modulum et vestes hesternas,

Migrat in obscuras humili sermone tabernas.

Presbiter quæ mortui quæ dant vivi, quæque

Refert ad focariam, cui dat sua seque;

Ille sacri nominis, ille mentis æquæ,

Legem qui Domini meditatur nocte dieque.

Fulti verbis laici cleri delinquentis,

Non tam verbis inhiant quam famæ docentis:

Nec sensus sic flectere minis aut tormentis

Humanos edicta valent, quam vita regentis.

Regna movent principes statusque lascivi,

Ut ducant exercitus, pœnam donativi

Infligentes rustico miseroque civi;

Quicquid delirant reges plectuntur Achivi.

Qui regni vel curiæ curis accinguntur,

Dum arrident detrahunt, et dum blandiuntur

Jacturam vel dedecus semper moliuntur;

Nulla fides pietasve viris qui castra sequuntur.

Si te civis percipit, demollit ut urat,

Si dena contuleris mutuum futurat,

Te de tuo submovet, percipe, dum durat;

Pone merum et talos pereat, qui crastina curat.

Si quis ad forensium domos devolutus

Censum palam deferat, et minus astutus,

Nam cum cubans dormiet fessus et imbutus,

Vivitur ex rapto, non hospes ab hospite tutus.

Sic raptus, insidiæ, dolus, et simultas

Reddunt gentes devias, miseras, et stultas;

Sic inescant omnium mentes inconsultas

Ambitus, et luxus, et opum metuenda facultas.

Sed quid confert miseris luxus aut potestas

Qui spretis virtutibus colunt res funestas,

Aurum, gemmas, purpuram, et opes congestas?

Cum labor in dampno est, crescit mortalis egestas.

Quid ad rem, de purpura, gemmis, auro, rure?

Assunt cum divitiis odia, jacturæ,

Placita, jejunia, metus, et de jure

Insompnes longo veniunt ex agmine curæ.

Regnat pauper tutius quam rerum collator,

Qui, dum rapit domini gratiam delator,

Vel onustum spoliat prudens spoliator;

Cantabit vacuus coram latrone viator.

Sæpe vivunt gratius rebus destituti,

Sub exili tegete lateris aut luti,

Quam in regum domibus mollibus induti;

Serviet æternum qui parvo nesciet uti.

Sed si quæris copiam veræ facultatis,

Rejice superflua, cole quod est satis,

Exue divitias, nudus cede fatis;

Tolle moram, nocuit semper differre paratis.

Si dum iter arripis ad utiliora,

Spem metus dissuadeat, vel successus mora,

Animum ne revoces, nec reflectas lora,

Grata superveniet quæ non sperabitur hora.

Thesaurizes illud quo non potes abuti,

Curam gerens inopis, cæci, claudi, muti;

Animæ, non animo servias vel cuti,

Pauca voluptati debentur, plura saluti.

Nemo regis solio tutus, vel asylo,

Cum nec lingua nequeat exprimi vel stilo

Quam sub fato pendulo vicinoque pilo,

Omina sunt hominum tenui pendentia filo.

Prospere dum navigas æquoris extremum,

Pensa non præsentia, sed futura demum,

Et puppim considerans, non proram vel remum,

Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum.

Translation.—How wide and how long is the web of crimes with which our breasts, choked with vices, are enveloped, tell, and reveal, O muse, with a mournful countenance, if you care to touch the heart of the spectator with your lament.—The wretched and profane people seem to form their wishes in consideration, not of the price of virtue, but of flax or wool: what is done in the evening is unwrought in the morning. O cares of men! O how much emptiness there is in things!—Every eye is blind to justice; every mind is large to injustice; a thousand hopes of men and the differing aspects of things depend on the dice and uses of fortune.—When chaste maidens join in dance with the strumpet, when the Arabs play the pauper under the robe of a beggar, when Tydeus denies his faith to his Polynices, then, if you are admitted to the spectacle, my friends, can you restrain your laughter?—If you are anxious to know all men by their several failings, who practise sloth, who are the plotters of treason, who the servants of Mammon, who the despisers of God, we must observe the manners of every age of life.—The boy, as he learns the use of feet, hates the doors, flies abroad; he respects things and honours less than the least; anger and joy succeed each other with short intervals, for his changes are sudden.—The youth flies from his tutor and confinement; he delights in horses, dogs, dice, and wine, a hunter of his pleasures, whose occupation is with women, a slow provider of useful things, prodigal of money.—When arrived at manhood, that he may rule the citizens and dictate to the prætor, that he may extend his possessions with a longer cable, and fill his bags with greater treasure, he seeks riches and friendships, and is a slave to honours.—Many serious troubles surround the old man, either that, from stinginess, he spares his perishing wealth, or that he handles his riches with fear, lest they should fall to the thief; he is one who delays long, depending on hope, inactive, and greedy of the future.—Thus difference of time causes variety of ages; the tender age is occupied on the affections of the heart, the man on lofty things, but he whom old age bends, his breast glows with avarice and miserable cupidity.—In this respect the whole mind of men grows old, which, while it seeks things external, is ignorant of itself in the pursuit; ambition is not quieted by success: the love of money increases as fast as the money itself increases.—But in this point alone may vice claim some credit, that it is always prevalent among the great; yet that disposition which respects no control is the more conspicuously criminal, in proportion as the sinner occupies a higher station.—Rome, lying in the depths of turpitude, ranks virtues beneath filthy lucre; fluctuating under the waves of a vacillating mind, she overthrows, builds, and changes square things for round.—She despises the bland countenances at which but now she smiled; she cherishes in her placid breast those whom before she rolled down; while she receives money, she treats and revises: what she sought she despises, and seeks again what lately she let go.—If she does not perceive rightly a thing in any manner whatever, and has not forgotten the custom which she first learnt, she smells of the custom of the cask, which will keep very long the odour with which it was once endued while fresh.—Before the cardinals and before the patriarch, a pound overcomes the Bible, money the accused, and a marc Mark, the law sparing to him who is not sparing, gives only as much grace as each has money in his purse.—If you seek the balance of the judges, you should seek it with copper, since the favour of the balance hangs from copper; you should not ask respite, but ask what they ask; whence you obtain it nobody will inquire, but you needs must have it.—When you are turned over to the notary, pour out your bribes; he will at once extricate you from your cause, when, why, or whence it may arise, and will subject the canons to the form that is round (i. e. the coin), whom prosperity delights not a little.—Rome teaches all that they should fly over to expediency, that they should offer heart and hand to Mammon rather than to God; thus it happens that the branches smell of a bad root; where the head is infirm, the other members are in pain.—The archbishops tread under foot the necks of the clergy, and extort tears in order that they may be dried by gifts; nor, if the poor wretches bring few or not good ones, do they take them in good part, or acknowledge them with favour.—If any one begins to complain of an injury, they immediately stretch their ear to the cause, their hand to the gift; if they once receive a thing of the plural number, to-morrow the same basenesses may be done as yesterday.—The bishop loves a cheerful giver, and dares either right or wrong after the smell of a bribe, unable to resume, after he has thrown shame aside, the blush once rejected from his worn brow.—Nor is there less baseness in the archdeacon; whom he has once taken up, whether in earnest or in joke, he holds; nor has he mercy for the needy or the naked; the leech which will not let go the skin till he is filled with blood.—The dean, born to everlasting wiles, that he may explore the creed (symbolum) and the things which succeed, changing the tune of his tongue and yesterday’s garments, migrates with humble speech to the obscure taverns.—The priest, whatever either the dead or the living give, carries all to his fireside-woman, to whom he gives himself and what he has; he of the holy name and the equal mind, who meditates the law of the Lord by day and by night.—The laymen resting on the words of the clergy who depart from them, pay less attention to the words than to the character of the teacher: nor can laws subdue the senses of men by threats and torments, so much as the example of the ruler.—The luxurious princes stir kingdoms and states, that they may lead armies, inflicting the punishment of a tax on the rustic and the miserable citizen; for whenever the kings run wild, the Greeks pay the piper.—They who are occupied with the cares of the kingdom or of the court, detract while they smile, and when they flatter they are plotting damage or disgrace; there is neither faith nor honesty in those who follow camps.—If a citizen perceive you, he caresses that he may burn you; if you lay down ten, he puts the payment of his stake to another time; he cheats you out of your own; look to it, while it lasts; he may perish behind the wine and the dice, who leaves care till to-morrow.—If any one going to the houses of the lawyers, carries his money openly, he also is a simpleton; for when he sleeps in his bed weary and full, people live by rapine, the guest is not safe from his host.—Thus rapine, snares, treachery, and strife, lead people into error, misery, and folly; thus ambition and luxury, and the revered possession of riches, allure the foolish minds of all men.—But what availeth luxury and power to those miserable people who, despising virtues, esteem only things that produce evil, such as gold, gems, and heaps of wealth? when our labour is expended on what is injurious to us, the misery of mortals is on the increase.—What avails it to talk of purple, gems, gold, land? With riches we have feuds, losses, pleas, fastings, fears, and justly sleepless cares come in a long train.—The poor man reigns more safely than he that amasses wealth, who, while the informer deprives the lord of his favour, or the lurking spoiler spoils him who is laden, he, an empty traveller, will sing before the thief.—They who are destitute often live more pleasantly under a slight hut of brick or mud, than those who are delicately clothed in the palaces of kings; he will be ever a slave who knows not how to use moderation.—But if you seek abundance of true property, reject superfluity, seek what is enough, strip yourself of riches, and die naked; delay not this, for those who are prepared are ever injured by delay.—If while you are on your road to what is more useful, fear dissuade hope, or delay endanger success; change not your mind, nor slacken your reins; the grateful hour will arrive when least expected.—Treasure up that which you cannot abuse, having a care of the needy, the blind, the lame, and the dumb; serve your soul, and not your mind or your skin; you owe little to pleasure, but more to your salvation.—No one is safe on a king’s throne, or in a sanctuary, since it can be expressed neither by tongue nor pen by how slender a thread the destinies of men hang under the imminent approach of death.—While you navigate prosperously the far side of the sea, weigh not the present but the future, and considering the poop more than the prow or the oar, act as though you thought every day your last.

---

The foreign policy of Henry III. was even less manly than that of his father. Among the many songs of the Normans and Poitevins, reclaiming the assistance of their ancient sovereign, we may give as an example the Sirvente of Bernard de Rovenac, addressed to Henry and his contemporary James I. King of Aragon, from whom Louis IX. had taken Languedoc to give it as a portion to his brother Alphonsus. There is internal evidence that it was written about 1229, the year in which Henry III. made his ill-conducted expedition into Brittany.

A SIRVENTE AGAINST KING HENRY.

[Raynouard, Choix, tom. iv. p. 203.]

Ja no vuelh do ni esmenda

Ni grat retener

Dels ricx ab lur falz saber,

Qu’en cor ay que los reprenda

Dels vils fatz mal yssernitz;

E no vuelh sia grazitz

Mos sirventes entr’ els flacx nualhos,

Paupres de cor et d’ aver poderos.

Rey Engles prec que entenda,

Quar fa dechazar

Son pauc pretz per trop temer,

Quar no’l play qu’ els sieus defenda,

Qu’ans es tan flacx e marritz

Que par sia adurmitz,

Qu’el reys frances li tolh en plas perdos

Tors et Angieus e Normans e Bretos.

Rey d’Arago, ses contenda,

Deu ben nom aver

Jacme, quar trop vol jazer;

E qui que sa terra s prenda,

El es tan flacx e chausitz

Que sol res no y contraditz;

E car ven lay als Sarrazis fellos

L’anta e’l dan que pren say vas Lymos.

Ja tró son payre car venda

No pot trop valer,

Ni s cug qu’ ieu li diga plazer,

Tró foc n’abraz e n’essenda

E n’ sian grans colps feritz;

Pueys er de bon pretz complitz,

S’al rey frances merma sos tenezos,

Quar el sieu fieu vol heretar N Anfos.

Coms de Toloza, la renda

Que soletz tener

De Belcaire us deu dolar,

S’al deman faitz lonj’ atenda

Vos e ’l reys que us es plevitz;

L’enprendemen n’er aunitz,

S’ar no vezem tendas e pabalhos,

E murs fondre, e cazer autas tors.

Ricx homes, mal yssernitz,

En vey hom vostres malz ditz,

E laissera us, s’ie us vis arditz ni pros,

Mas no us tem tan que ja m’en lays per vos.

Translation.—I wish neither for the gifts and favours—nor to obtain the good-will—of the rich, with their false wisdom;—but I have in my heart the intention to reproach them—with their vile deeds ill-conceived;—and I don’t wish to be agreable—my Sirventes among the cowardly idlers,—poor in heart and heavy in riches.

The English King, I pray him to hear it,—for he causes to fall—his little glory by too much timidity,—for it does not please him to defend his own people,—and thus he is so cowardly and so vile,—that he seems to be asleep,—while the French King takes from him with impunity—Tours, and Angiers, and Normans, and Bretons.

The King of Aragon, without any doubt,—ought really to have the name—of James; for he is too willing to lie down;—and whoever it be that takes his land,—he is so cowardly and caitiff,—that he does not even contradict it;—and he revenges on that side against the felon Saracens——the shame and damage which he receives on this side towards Limoux.

Until he have revenged his father,—he cannot have much esteem,—nor let him imagine that I will speak to please him,—unless he ravage and put in flames,—and unless great blows be struck.—For there will have been accomplished great honour,—if he narrows the domains of the French King,—for Don Alfonse desires to inherit his fief.

Earl of Toulouse, the rent—which you used to hold—from Beaucaire, you ought to regret,—if you make long delay to demand it,—you, and that King, because you are in league;—that undertaking will not be disgraced,—if we now see tents and pavilions,—and walls fall and high towers break.

Rich men, ill-advised,—one sees your evil sayings,—I would let you alone, if I saw you hardy and courageous,—but I do not fear you so much as to leave it on your account.

---

The following Sirvente, by the same author, is also directed against Henry and James, and was written about the year 1250. It repeats the same articles of accusation, and its object was to persuade those kings to invade the dominions of Louis, while he was himself absent on his crusade.

A SIRVENTE AGAINST KING HENRY.

[Raynouard, tom. iv. p. 205.]

D’un sirventes m’es grans volontatz preza,

Ricx homes flacx, e non sai que us disses,

Quar ja lauzor no y auria ben meza,

Ni us aus blasmar, e val pauc sirventes

Que laza quan blasmar deuria;

Pero si tot vos par follia,

A me platz mais que us blasme dizen ver,

Que si menten vos dizia plazer.

Amdos los reys an una cauz’ empressa,

Selh d’Arago et aisselh dels Engles,

Que no sia per elhs terra defeza

Ni fasson mal ad home qu’el lur fes,

E fan merces e cortezia,

Quar al rey que conquer Suria

Laisson en patz lur fieus del tot tener;

Nostre Senher lur en deu grat saber.

Vergonha m pren, quant una gens conqueza

Nos ten aissi totz vencutz e conques,

E degr’ esser aitals vergonha prezza,

Quom a me pren, al rey Aragones

E al rey que pert Normandia,

Mas prez an aital companhia

Que ja nulh temps no fasson lur dever,

Et anc non vitz autre tan ben tener.

E pus no pren en la leuda torneza

Qu’a Monpeslier li tollon siey borzes,

Ni no y s venja de l’anta que y a preza,

Ja no ’lh sia mais retragz Carcasses,

Pos als sieus eys no s defendria,

Assatz fa sol qu’en patz estia;

Patz non a ges senher ab gran poder,

Quan sas antas torna a non chaler.

Ges trop lauzar, quan valors es mal meza,

Non apel patz, quar mala guerra es;

Ni ja per me non er per patz enteza,

Mielhs deuria aver nom gauch de pages,

E dels ricx que perdon tot dia

Pretz, e ja fort greu no lur sia,

Quar pauc perdon e pauc lur deu doler,

Quar ges de pauc non pot hom trop mover.

Lo reys N Anfos a laissat cobezeza

Als autres reys, qu’a sos ops non vol ges,

Et a sa part elh a preza largueza,

Mal a partit qui reptar l’en volgues;

E dic vos que m par vilania

Qui partis e qui ’l mielhs s’ atria,

Mas ges pertant non a fag non dever,

Quar a pres so qu’elhs no volon aver.

Ricx malastrucx, s’ieu vos sabia

Lauzor, volontiers la us diria;

Mas no us pessetz menten mi alezer,

Que vostre grat no vuelh ni vostr’ aver.

Translation.—I am seized by a great desire of writing a sirvente,—O rich yet cowardly men! and I know not what I shall say to you,—for there will be little room for praise;—nor dare I blame you, and a sirvente is worth little—which praises when it ought to blame:—but though it may seem all folly to you,—yet it pleases me more to blame you by telling the truth,—than if I spoke falsehood to please you.

Both the kings have resolved on one thing,—he of Aragon and he of the English,—that by them the land shall not be defended,—and that they will do ill to no one who does ill to them;—they are merciful and courteous;—for they let the King who is conquering Syria—retain their fiefs altogether in peace;—our Lord ought to be very thankful to them for it.

Shame seizes on me, when a vanquished people—holds us thus all subdued and conquered,—and such shame ought to seize—the King of Aragon, as seizes me,—and the King who loses Normandy,—but they take such company—that now they never perform their duty,—and I never saw another hold so well.

And afterwards he does not receive the tax,—which at Montpellier his burgesses take from him,—neither does he revenge himself of the disgrace he received there,—now Carcasson may no more be recovered by him;—for he would not defend his own eyes,—his only endeavour is that he may be in peace;—a noble lord with great power has no peace,—when he turns his ways to nonchalance.

To praise people too much, when valour is ill esteemed,—I do not call it peace, for it is bad war;—nor shall it now be understood by me for peace,—it ought rather to have the name of pages’ play,—and of the rich who lose every day—honour, and yet it grieves them not much,—for they lose little and need not grieve much,—for we cannot be moved much by a little thing.

The king Don Alfonso has left covetousness—to the other kings, because he will not make use of it,—and he has taken for his share largess,—he has an ill share who wishes to recover this from him;—and I tell you that it appears to me villany,—when one shares and takes the best to himself;—yet no one has done otherwise than right,—when he has taken that which others will not have.

Rich men ill-advised, if I knew any thing in you—worthy of praise, I would willingly tell you of it;—but think not to take up my leisure,—for I desire neither your thanks nor your goods.

---

Henry’s embarrassments at home were now becoming every day more numerous and more complicated. Scarcely any part of the nation, clergy, barons, or people, were any longer his friends. The following song (made in 1256) was evidently written by one belonging to the former of these classes, indignant at the taxes which the King, with the consent of the Pope, had levied on the clergy, in the vain hope of placing one of his sons on the throne of Sicily, and afterwards to pay the debt which he had contracted towards the supreme pontiff. The King of France, quoted as an example, was the saintly Louis IX.

THE SONG OF THE CHURCH.

[MS. Cotton. Jul. D. VII. fol. 133, v^o. of 13th century.]

Istud canticum factum fuit anno gratiæ m^occ^olvi^o supra desolatione Ecclesiæ Anglicanæ.

Or est acumpli à men acient

La pleinte Jeremie, ke oï avez suvent;

ke dit cument set sule

cité pleine de fule

Plurant amerement,

ore est sanz mariage

e mis en tailage,

La dame de la gent.

Cest est seint eglise trestut apertement,

Ke est ja hunie e tut mis a vent:

E si est maumise, nus veum cument.

Ele gent e plure,

n’a ad nul ke sucure

De sun marement.

Jà fu cleregie

franche e à desus,

Amée e cherie,

nule ren pot plus.

Ore est enservie,

E trop envilie,

e abatu jus;

Par iceus est hunie,

Dunt dut aver aïe;

jo n’os dire plus.

Li rois ne l’apostoile ne pensent altrement,

Mès coment au clers tolent lur or e lur argent.

Co est tute la summe,

ke la pape de Rume

Al rei trop consent,

pur aider sa curune

la dime de clers li dune,

De ço en fet sun talent.

Jo ne quid pas ke li rois face sagement,

Ke il vit de roberie ke il de la clergie prent.

Jà ne fra bone prise,

pur rober seinte eglise;

Il la say verament.

Ke vot aver semblance,

regarde le rois de France

E sun achevement.

Translation.—Now is accomplished as I conceive—the plaint of Jeremiah, which you have often heard,—who tells how this sole—city full of people—bewailing bitterly,—is now without marriage—and put in contribution,—the Lady of the people.—That is holy church very evidently,—who is now disgraced and all put to sale;—and truly is she in ill case, we see how.—She laments and weeps,—there is none who helps her—out of her desolation.

Formerly clergy was—free and uppermost,—loved and cherished,—nothing could be more so.—Now it is enslaved,—and too much debased,—and trodden down.—By those is it disgraced,—from whom it ought to have help;—I dare not say more.

The king and the pope think of nothing else,—but how they may take from the clergy their gold and their silver.—This is the whole affair,—that the pope of Rome—yields too much to the king,—to help his crown,—the tenth of the clergy’s goods he gives him,—and with that he does his will.

I do not think that the King acts wisely,—that he lives of robbery which he commits upon the clergy.—He will never be a gainer,—by robbing holy church;—he knows it truly.—He who seeks an example,—let him regard the King of France—and his achievement.

---

The next Song, directed against the avarice of the Bishops, appears to be of about the same date. In the manuscript it is written, like the foregoing, as prose.

A SONG AGAINST THE BISHOPS.

[From the same folio of the same MS.]

Licet æger cum ægrotis,

Et ignotus cum ignotis,

Fungar tamen vice totis,

Jus usurpans sacerdotis;

flete, Syon filiæ,

præsides ecclesiæ

imitantur hodie

Christum a remotis.

Jacet ordo clericalis

In respectu laicalis,

Sponsa Christi fit venalis,

Generosa generalis;

veneunt altaria,

venit eucharistia,

cum sit nugatoria

Gratia venalis.

Donum Dei non donatur

Nisi gratis conferatur;

Quod qui vendit vel mercatur,

Lepra Syri vulneratur;

quem sic ambit ambitus,

ydolorum servitus

templo sancti spiritus

Non compaginatur.

In diebus juventutis

Timent annos senectutis,

Ne fortuna destitutis

Desit eis splendor cutis.

Sed dum quærunt medium,

vertunt in contrarium,

fallit enim vitium

Specie virtutis.

Tu qui tenes hunc tenorem,

Frustra dicis te pastorem;

Nec te regis ut rectorem,

Rerum mersus in ardorem:

Hæc est alia

sanguisugæ filia,

quam venalis curia

Duxit in uxorem.

Translation.—Although sick with those who are sick, and unknown with those who are unknown, yet I will assume all characters in turn, usurping the right of the priest: weep, ye daughters of Sion, the bishops of the church at the present day are but remote imitators of Christ!

The clerical order is debased in respect of the laity; the spouse of Christ is made venal,—she that is noble, common; the altars are for sale; the eucharist is for sale, although venal grace is vain and frivolous.

God’s gift is not given if it be not conferred gratis; and he who sells and makes merchandise of it, is, in so doing, struck with the leprosy of Syrus; the service of idols, at which his ambition thus aims, may not be engrafted on the temple of the Holy Spirit.

In their days of youth, they look forwards to old age with fear, lest, deserted by fortune, they possess no longer their sleek skin. But while they seek the mean, they turn into the contrary extreme; for vice deceives them in the guise of virtue.

Thou who holdest this course, vainly thou callest thyself a pastor; neither doest thou govern thyself like a ruler, immersed in the heat of temporary affairs; she is another—daughter of the leech, whom the venal court has taken to wife.

---

The following is another bitter satire on the vices of the great, during the reign of Henry III. Who were the four brothers against whom the song is more particularly directed, would not be easily ascertained without other particulars besides those here furnished.

A SONG ON THE TIMES.

[MS. Harl. No. 978. fol. 123, v^o. of the 13th cent.]

Mundi libet vitia cunctis exarare;

Nam in mundo video multos nunc errare,

Spernere quod bonum est, quod malum est amare,

Et ad mala sæpius sponte declinare.

Mundus quia malus est, male scit nocere;

Mala novit facere, nescit pœnitere;

Caro quicquid appetit pro posse vult habere,

Sed quod Deus præcipit nequit adimplere.

Jam nil valet aliquis ni sciat litigare,

Nisi sciat cautius causis cavillare,

Nisi sciat simplices dolis impugnare,

Nisi sciat plenius nummos adunare.

Mundi status hodie multum variatur,

Semper in deterius misere mutatur;

Nam qui parcit nemini, quique plus lucratur,

Ille plus dilectus est et plus commendatur.

Rex et regni proceres satis sunt amari;

Omnes fere divites nimis sunt avari;

Pauper pauca possidens debet depilari,

Et ut ditet divitem rebus spoliari,

Bona per superflua dives excæcatur;

Circa temporalia tota mens versatur:

Et in vanis quoniam nimis delectatur,

Bona differt facere, malum non vitatur.

Ex prælatis plurimum Deum non timentes

Sunt sub boni specie mala facientes,

Hiique plus quam laici sæpe sunt nocentes,

Bene curant corpora, male pascunt mentes,

Regnat nunc impietas, pietas fugatur,

Nobilisque largitas procul relegatur;

Stricta nam tenacitas multos comitatur,

Et in multis caritas sic refrigeratur.

Fas et nefas ambulant pene casu pari,

Vix est jam quem pudeat nefas operari;

Carus hic acceptus est qui scit adulari,

Hicque privilegio gaudet singulari.

Quod ad lucrum pertinet nimis affectatur;

Lucra quisquis prospicit, cautus judicatur;

Res qui servat strictius, sapiens vocatur;

Sua qui dat largius, stultus reputatur.

Dolus avaritiæ comes copulatur;

Fidei perfidia jam parificatur;

Nam qui scit decipere, prudens prædicatur;

Qui plus mali perpetrat plus appretiatur.

Quatuor sunt maxime qui sic operantur,

Et cum malefecerint pejus meditantur,

Quorum infra scelera satis declarantur,

Et eorum nomina sic intitulantur.

Hii sunt fratres quatuor, Robertus, et Ricardus,

Gilebertus postea, vir valde Wandelardus,

Quartus inter alios frater est bastardus,

Galfridus, qui piger est, et ad bona tardus.

Cuique satis proprie nomen adaptatur,

Per quod quæ proprietas cujusque sit notatur;

Nam qui recte nominum vim interpretatur,

Scire potest certius quid significatur.

Competenter per Robert, robbur designatur;

Et per Richard, riche hard congrue notatur;

Gilebert non sine re gilur appellatur;

Gefrei, si rem tangimus, in jo frai commutatur.

Per istorum nomina, quæ sic figurantur,

Modus, fraus, et opera multorum denotantur;

Et ut cunctis clarius hæc aperiantur,

Melius et plenius hic notificantur.

Robertus excoriat, extorquet, et minatur;

Et Ricardus retinet totum quod lucratur;

Gilebertus decipit, et inde gloriatur;

Galfridus se procrastinat, et nil operatur.

Veritatem prosequar ore nunc aperto:

Vir quicunque rabidus consors est Roberto;

Vir fallax et cupidus par fit Gileberto;

Vir piger et tepidus Galfridus est pro certo.

Tempus piger protrahit omni tardus hora;

Operari negligit quæ sunt meliora;

Bona nimis differens ruit in pejora;

Et ut bene faciat semper est in mora.

Hic promittit quodlibet, sed nil vult implere;

Semper dicit “faciam,” nunquam facit vere;

Sed cum mors est proxima, tunc incipit dolere;

Magnum est periculum tam sero pœnitere.

Quisque sibi caveat ne decipiatur;

Pœnitere studeat antequam labatur;

Dum est compos corporis bene mereatur,

Ne dum differt interim forte moriatur.

Fons et auctor, Dominus, summæ pietatis

Nobis hic sic annuat flere pro peccatis,

Et dum sumus validi pœnitere gratis,

Ut possimus alibi gaudere cum beatis! Amen.

Translation.—Everybody has a right to satirize the world’s vices; for now I see many in the world err, despise what is good, love what is bad, and most frequently turning off spontaneously to evil.—Because the world is depraved, it knows how to do injury; it knows how to act ill, but not how to repent; the flesh will do all it can to possess whatever it desires, but is unable to fulfill God’s commandments.—Now nobody is esteemed unless he knows how to litigate; unless he can cavil cunningly in law-suits; unless he can overreach the simple; unless he know how to amass abundance of money.—The state of the world is at the present day constantly changing; it is always becoming miserably worse; for he who spares nobody, and who is bent most on gain, is most beloved and most commended.—The King and his nobles are sufficiently bitter; almost all the rich men are too avaricious; the poor man, who possesses little, must be robbed and spoiled of his property to enrich the wealthy.—The rich man is blinded by superfluous wealth; his whole mind is occupied with temporal matters; and, since he is too much pleased with vanities, he puts off the doing of good, but avoids not the evil.—Of the prelates, there are very many who, having no fear of God, do evil under the mask of good, and they often do more injury than the laymen; they take great care of the body, but feed ill the mind.—Now impiety reigns, piety is driven away, and noble liberality is sent into far exile; for narrow stinginess is the companion of many, and thus in many charity is become cold.—Right and wrong march nearly on an equal footing; there is now scarcely one who is ashamed of doing what is unlawful; the man is held dear who knows how to flatter, and he enjoys a singular privilege.—Lucre is a thing too much sought after; whoever has an eye to it, is considered prudent; he who keeps very close what he has, is called a wise man; he who gives liberally, is set down for a fool.—Treachery accompanies avarice; perfidy is now put on equality with honesty; for he who knows how to deceive, is proclaimed a prudent man; and he who does most ill is most prized.—There are four persons in particular who work thus; who, even while doing ill, are meditating to do worse, whose crimes are sufficiently declared below, and whose names are as follows:—They are four brothers, Robert, and Richard; next Gilbert, a true Wandelard; the fourth is a bastard brother, Geoffrey, who is a sluggard, and slow to do anything good.—Each of them has a very appropriate name, by which his own character is described; for if any one interpret rightly the names, he may know most accurately what each signifies.—By Robert, is very sufficiently indicated a robber; and by Richard, with much fitness, a rich hard man; Gilbert is not without reason called a guiler; and Geoffrey is, if we come to the point, changed into jo frai (i. e. I will do it).—By these people’s names, which are thus described, are denoted the habit, and fraud, and works, of many men; and in order that these may be made more manifest to all, they are here published better and more fully—Robert fleeces, extorts, and threatens; and Richard keeps all he gains; Gilbert deceives, and afterwards boasts of it; Geoffrey procrastinates, and does nothing.—I will follow up the truth now in full cry: every ravenous man is the companion of Robert; a false and miserly man is similar to Gilbert; a slow and listless man is, without doubt, a Geoffrey.—The latter idly protracts the time, behindhand at whatever hour is appointed, he neglects to do what is good, and by putting off the good he falls into that which is evil, and he is always backward in acting well:—he promises anything, but will perform nothing; he always says, “I will do,” but never does; but when death is at hand, he begins to lament: there is great danger in repenting so late.—Let every one take care that he is not himself deceived; let him try to repent before his end, that he may merit well while he is in health, lest by putting it off, he chance to die before it is done.—The Lord, who is the fountain and author of the highest degree of piety, give us here the inclination so to mourn for our faults, and to be penitent spontaneously while we are in health, that in the next world we may be in joy with the saints!

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A perpetual subject of popular outcry against the great, during this and the following centuries, was afforded by the foreign and extravagant fashions in dress, which were prevalent. A glance at the illuminations in contemporary manuscripts will show us that these complaints were not without foundation. We, even at the present day, can with difficulty conceive the immense sums which were in former days expended on the toilet. This profusion was frequently and severely commented upon in the prose writings of the clergy, and was not uncommonly the subject of popular satire. The following song upon the tailors is very playful.

SONG UPON THE TAILORS.

[MS. Harl. 978. fol. 99, v^o. reign of Hen. III.]

In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas Corpora, Dii cœptis, nam vos mutastis et illas, Aspirate meis.

Ego dixi, dii estis;

Quæ dicenda sunt in festis

Quare prætermitterem?

Dii, revera, qui potestis

In figuram novæ vestis

Transmutare veterem.

Pannus recens et novellus

Fit vel capa vel mantellus,

Sed secundum tempora

Primum capa, post pusillum

Transmutatur hæc in illum;

Sic mutatis corpora.

Antiquata decollatur,

Decollata mantellatur,

Sic in modum Proteos

Demutantur vestimenta;

Nec recenter est inventa

Lex metamorphoseos.

Cum figura sexum mutant;

Prius ruptam clam reclutant

Primates ecclesiæ;

Nec donatur, res est certa,

Nisi prius sit experta

Fortunam Tiresiæ.

Bruma tandem revertente,

Tost unt sur la chape enté

Plerique capucium;

Alioquin dequadratur,

De quadrato retundatur,

Transit in almucium.

Si quid restat de morsellis

Cæsi panni sive pellis,

Non vacat officio:

Ex hiis fiunt manuthecæ,

Manutheca quidem Græcè

Manuum positio.

Sic ex veste vestem formant,

Engleis, Tyeis, Franceis, Normant,

Omnes generaliter;

Ut vix nullus excludatur.

Ita capa declinatur,

Sed mantellus aliter.

Adhuc primo recens anno,

Nova pelle, novo panno,

In arca reconditur;

Recedente tandem pilo,

Juncturarum rupto filo,

Pellis circumciditur.

Sic mantellus fit apella;

Ci git li drap, e la pel là,

Post primum divortium;

A priore separata

Cum secundo reparata

Transit in consortium.

Quod delictum dices majus?

Istud palam est contra jus:

Nam si nupsit alteri,

Conjugium est violatum,

Dum fit novo copulatum

Reclamante veteri.

N’est de concille, ne de sene,

Deus dras espuser à une pene,

E si nus le juggium;

Permittunt hoc decreta? non:

Sed reclamat omnis canon

Non esse conjugium.

Pannus primum circumcisus,

Viduatus et divisus

A sua pellicula,

Jam expertus Judaismum,

Emundatur per baptismum

A quacumque macula.

Circumcisus mundatusque,

Est adeptus utriusque

Legis testimonium;

Quem baptismus emundavit,

Cum secunda secundavit

Pelle matrimonium.

Pilis expers, usu fractus,

Ex Esaü Jacob factus,

Quant li peil en est chaü,

Inversatur vice versa,

Rursus idem ex conversa

Ex Jacob fit Esaü.

Pars pilosa foris paret,

Sed introrsus pilis caret

Vetustas abscondita;

Datur tamen, k’il n’i eit perte,

Servienti, pur deserte,

Mantellus hypocrita.

Translation.—I have said, ye are gods; why should I omit the service which should be said on festival days? Gods certainly ye are, who can transform an old garment into the shape of a new one.—The cloth, while fresh and new, is made either a cape or mantle; but, in order of time, first it is a cape, after a little space this is transformed into the other; thus ye “change bodies.”—When it becomes old, the collar is cut off; when deprived of the collar, it is made a mantle: thus, in the manner of Proteus, are garments changed; nor is the law of metamorphosis a new discovery.—With their shape they change their sex; the primates of the church privately close up again what was before torn; nor is it given, assuredly, till it has first undergone the fortune of Tiresias.—When, at length, winter returns, many engraft immediately upon the cape a capuce; then it is squared; after being squared it is rounded; and so it becomes an aumuce.—If there remain any morsels of the cloth or skin which is cut, it does not want a use: of these are made gloves; a glove is called in Greek “the placing of the hands.”—This is the general manner they all make one robe out of another, English, Germans, French, and Normans, with scarcely an exception. Thus cape is declined; but mantle otherwise.—In the first year, while it is still fresh, the skin and the cloth being both new, it is laid up in a box; when, however, the fur begins to be worn off, and the thread of the seams broken, the skin is circumcised.—Thus the mantle is made a Jew; here lays the cloth, there the skin, after the first divorce: being separated from its former husband, after separation it passes in reparation to marriage with a second husband.—But what will you say is a greater crime? this is clearly against right; for if she have married a second, the marriage is broken, when a new conjunction is made in spite of the reclamations of the old partner.—It is neither canonic nor wise to marry two cloths to one fur, and so we judge it. Do the decretals permit this? No: on the contrary, every canon declares, that it is no marriage.—The cloth having been first circumcised, then widowed and separated from its skin, now having experienced Judaism, is cleansed by baptism, from every stain (i. e. it is dyed).—Being circumcised and cleaned, and having obtained the testimony of both laws, he whom baptism has cleansed, contracts a new marriage with a second skin.—Being devoid of hair, and worn by use, from Esau having become Jacob, when the hair is fallen from it, the process is inverted, and again conversely from Jacob it becomes Esau.—The hairy part is turned out, but the old part, concealed inwardly, is bare of hairs. Now the hypocritical mantle, in order that there may be nothing lost, is given to the servant for his wages.

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We are now approaching the eventful period of the Barons’ wars. The turbulent Welshmen were ever ready to seize an opportunity of invading the Marches; and the following song, whether it were composed by one of them, or be the work of one of the English who took the opportunity of satirising them, gives us a fair picture of the spirit in which they interfered.

THE SONG OF THE WELSH.

[From the Public Library of Leyden, MS. Vossius, No. 104, fol. 144, r^o. of the 13th cent.]

Trucidare Saxones soliti Cambrenses

Ad cognatos Britones et Cornubienses;

Requirunt ut veniant per acutos enses,

Ad debellandos inimicos Saxonienses.

Venite jam strenue loricis armati;

Sunt pars magna Saxonum mutuo necati,

Erit pars residua per nos trucidati:—

Nunc documenta date qua sitis origine nati.

Mellinus veredicus nunquam dixit vanum;

Expellendum populum prædixit vexanum.

Et vos hoc consilium non servatis sanum;

Cernite fallaces quorum genus omne profanum.

Prædecessor validus rex noster Arturus

Si vixisset hodie, fuissem securus

Nullus ei Saxonum restitisset murus;

Esset ei sicut meruerunt in prece durus.

Procuret omnipotens sibi successorem

Saltem sibi similem, nollem meliorem,

Qui tollat Britonibus antiquum dolorem,

Et sibi restituat patriam patriæque decorem.

Hoc Arturi patruus velit impetrare,

Sanctus [qui]dam maximus, Anglum ultra mare;

Scimus festum Martis kalendis instare,—

Ad natale solum Britones studeat revocare.

Virtuosos filii patres imitantur;

Sic Arturum Britones virtute sequantur:

Quam probo, quam strenuo monstrant procreantur;

Ut fuit Arturus sic victores habeantur!

Regnabat Parisius potestas Romana,

Frollo gygas strenuus, cujus mens ursana;

Hunc Arthurus perimit, credit fides sana,

Testis tentorium sit et insula Parisiana.

Insanit qui Britones necat generosos;

Videtur quod habeat sic eos exosos,

Namque per invidiam clamat odiosos

Semper et assidue, quos audit victoriosos.

Ex hac gente iiij^or sunt imperatores,

Arthurus, Broinsius, fortes bellatores,

Constantinus, Brennius, fere fortiores.

Hii monarchiam tenuerunt ut probiores.

Solum suum Karolum Francia præjectat;

Et Ricardum Anglia probitate jactat;

Paucitatem numerus major labefactat,

Virtutem regis quia quadrupla gloria mactat.

Istis suis finibus contigit regnare;

Illis duces, præsides, reges triumphare,

Quibus nullo merito se possint æquare;

Est quam regnare longe plus induperare.

Translation.—The Cambrians, who are used to slay the Saxons, salute their relations the Britons and Cornish-men: they require them to come with their sharp swords to conquer their Saxon enemies.—Come now, vigorously, armed with coats of mail; a great part of the Saxons are fallen in mutual slaughter, the remainder shall be slain by us: now is the time for you to show of what blood you are sprung.—The soothsayer Merlin never said a thing that was vain; he foretold that the mad people should be expelled. And you do not keep this wise counsel; observe deceitful people of whom the whole race is accursed.—If our valiant predecessor, King Arthur, had been now alive, I am sure not one of the Saxon walls would have resisted him; he would have been hard to them, spite of their prayers, as they have deserved.—May the Omnipotent procure him a successor only similar to him, I would not desire a better, who may deliver the Britons from their old grievance, and restore to them their country and their country’s glory.—May it please the uncle of Arthur to obtain this for us, a certain very great saint, [to send] the Englishman over the sea; we know that his festival is approaching on the kalends of March (St. David’s day), may he make it his study to recall the Britons to their native land.—Sons imitate their virtuous fathers, so let the Britons take Arthur for their example in valour; they show from what a good and brave man they are descended; as Arthur was, so let them be, conquerors!—The Roman power reigned at Paris, the bold giant Frollo, with the bearish mind; him Arthur slew: every person of good faith believes it: witness the tent and the Parisian island.—He is a madman who kills the noble Britons: it seems that he holds them thus hated; for he invidiously proclaims them hateful always and incessantly, who he hears are victorious.—Of this nation there have been four great commanders, Arthur and Broinsius, powerful warriors; Constantine and Brennius, more powerful, if it were possible; these held the monarchy by reason of their being the best.—France can only boast of her Charlemaine; and England glories in the valour of King Richard; a larger number overcomes a smaller, because a four-fold glory increases the valour of the King.—To these latter it was granted to reign within their own bounds; to the others, to triumph, over commanders, governors, and kings, with whom they can in no respect claim equality: it is a far greater thing to command, than to reign.

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The following fragment of what appears once to have been a long ballad, made to be sung in the halls of the Barons, seems to have been written soon after the disturbances in London in 1263, though there is not enough preserved to enable us to determine the precise occasion on which it was composed. Several nobles are here joined together, who afterwards took different sides.

THE SONG OF THE BARONS.

[A roll of parchment, of the 13th cent. in a private library.]

* * * *

Mès de Warenne ly bon quens,

Que tant ad richesses et biens,

Si ad apris de guere,

En Norfolk en cel pens[is]

Vint conquerrant ses enemis,

Mès ore ne ad que fere.

Sire Jon Giffard deit bien nomé,

Que n’out gueres un pem ... é

En cele chivauchée;

E si fu touz jors à devant,

Prus e sages et pernant,

E de grant renomée.

Et Sire Jon D’Ayvile,

Que onques ni aima treyson ne gile,

Fu en lur conpanie;

Et sire Peres de Montfort,

Si tint bien à lur acord,

Si out grant seignurie.

Et de Cliffort ly bon Roger

Se contint cum noble ber,

Si fu de grant justice;

Ne suffri pas petit ne grant,

Ne arère ne par devant,

Fere nul mesprise.

Et Sire Roger de Leyburne,

Que sà et là sovent se torne,

Mout ala conquerrant;

Assez mist paine de gainer,

Pur ses pertes restorer,

Que Sire Edward le fist avant.

Mout furent bons les barons;

Mès touz ne sai nomer lur nons,

Tant est grant la some:

Pur ce revenk al quens Simon,

Pur dire interpretison,

Coment hom le nome.

Il est apelé de Monfort,

Il est el mond et si est fort,

Si ad grant chevalerie;

Ce voir, et je m’acort,

Il eime dreit, et het le tort,

Si avera la mestrie.

El mond est veréement;

Là ou la comun à ly concent,

De la terre loée;

C’est ly quens de Leycestre,

Que baut et joius se puet estre

De cele renomée.

Ly eveske de Herefort

Sout bien que ly quens fu fort,

Kant il prist l’affère:

Devant ce esteit mult fer,

Les Engleis quida touz manger,

Mès ore ne set que fere.

Et ly pastors de Norwis,

Qui devoure ses berbis,

Assez sout de ce conte;

Mout en perdi de ses biens,

Mal ert que ly lessa riens,

Ke trop en saveit de honte.

Et Sire Jon de Langelé,

Soune chose fu gainé,

Deheiz eit que l’en pleine!

Tot le soen en fist porter

De Cliffort mi Sire Roger,

Ne vout que rien remeine.

Ne à Sire Mathi de Besile

Ne lesserent une bile,

En champ u en vile.

Tot le soen fu besilé,

E cointement fu detrussé

Par un treget sanz gile.

Mès mi Sire Jon de Gray

Vint à Lundres, si ne sai quoi,

Que must une destance

Par entre Lundres et ly,

Que tot son hernois en perdi,

Ce fu sa meschance.

Et Sire Willem le Latimer

Vint à Lundres pur juer,

* * * *

Translation.—But the good Earl of Warenne,—who has so much riches and property,—and has skill in war,—in Norfolk in this thought—he came conquering his enemies,—but now he has nothing to do.

Sir John Gifford ought well to be named,—who had scarcely a ...—in this riding-bout;—and he was always forward,—valiant and wise, and active,—and of great renown.

And Sir John Dayville,—who never loved treason or guile,—was in their company;—and Sir Peter de Montfort,—he held firm to their agreement,—and had great seignory.

And the good Roger de Clifford—behaved like a noble baron,—and exercised great justice;—he suffered neither little nor great,—neither behind or before,—to do any wrong.

And Sir Roger de Leyburne,—who often turns him on this side and on that,—made great progress conquering;—he laboured much to gain,—to restore his losses,—which Sir Edward had caused him before.

Right good men were the barons;—but I cannot tell all their names,—the number is so great:—therefore I return to Earl Simon,—to give the interpretation,—what is his name.

He is called de Montfort;—he is in the world (monde), and he is strong (fort);—and he has great chivalry:—this is true, and I agree to it,—he loves right and hates wrong,—and he shall have the mastery.

He is truly in the world,—there where the commons are in accord with him—which are praised of the land;—it is the Count of Leicester,—who may be glad and joyous—of this renown.

The Bishop of Hereford—knew well that the Earl was strong,—when he took the matter in hand;—before that he (the bishop) was very fierce;—he thought to eat up all the English;—but now he does not know what to do.

And the pastor of Norwich,—who devours his own sheep,—knows enough of this story;—he lost much of his goods;—it is pity they left him anything,—who was too much acquainted with shame.

And Sir John de Langley,—his property was gained,—cursed be he who complains of it;—all he had my lord Roger de Clifford—caused to be carried away;—he would let nothing remain.

Neither to Sir Matthew de Besile—did they leave one farthing,—in country or in town.—All his property was ravaged,—and neatly was he stripped—by a ‘treget’ without guile.

But Sir John de Gray—came to London, and some thing or other—made a quarrel—between London and him,—that he lost all his harness;—that was his mischance.

And Sir William le Latimer—came to London to play, * * *

---

The following satyrical song seems to have been written on the occasion of the intermediation of Louis IX. of France, between the contending parties in England, in the beginning of the year 1264. Much of its point consists in a rather gross play upon words which cannot always be translated; it is written in a very broad dialect; and the numerous instances of bad French, which are observed in it, were, no doubt, committed intentionally, to increase the hilarity of the listeners, at the expense of the English and their King.

SONG OF THE PEACE WITH ENGLAND.

[From a MS. of the thirteenth century, in the Bibl. du Roi, at Paris, No. 7218, fol. 220, v^o.]

Or vint la tens de May, que ce ros panirra,

Que ce tens serra beles, roxinol chanterra,

Ces prez il serra verdes, ces gardons florrirra;

J’ai trova à ma cul .j. chos que je dirra.

De ma ray d’Ingleters qui fu à bon naviaus,

Chivaler vaelant, hardouin, et léaus,

Et d’Adouart sa filz qui fi blont sa chaviaus,

Mai covint que je faites .j. dit troute noviaus.

Et de ce rai de Frans, cestui longue baron,

Qui tenez Normandi à tort par mal choison;

Lonc tens fout-il croupier sor Parris son maison,

Qu’il onc for por .i. gaire ne chauça d’asperon.

Sinor, tendez à mai; ne devez pas rier:

Ce navel que je port doit tout le mont crier.

L’autr’ier je fi à Londres une grosse concier;

Là ne movra baron la meilleur ne la pier,

Que tout ne fout venez à ce grand plaidement.

Là arra fet tel chos, je craie vraiement,

Qu ’i farra rois François .i. grant poentement

De ce terres qu’il tient contre le Glaise gent.

Sinor, lonc tens fout-il que Mellins profita

Que Philippes de Frans, .i. sinor qui fi jà,

Conquerra tout ce ters quanqu’il fout par deçà,

Mès toute vois, dit je l’, qu’encore Glais l’arra.

Or sont-il vint le tans que Glais voura vauchier;

S’il trovez la François qui la voura groncier,

Qui parra si froirrous d’espé ou de levrier,

Qu’il n’arra talant por gondre Glais grondier.

Le bon rai d’Ingleter se traina à .i. part,

Li et Trichart sa frer irrous comme lipart.

Il suspire de cul, si se claima à l’art,—

“Hui Diex! com puis-je voir de Normandi ma part?”

“Ne vous maie mi,” dit la conte à Clocestre,

“Vous porra bien encors; tel chos poistron bien estre,

Se Diex salva ma cul, ma pié, et ma poing destre,

Tu sarra sus Parris encore troute mestre.”

La cont Vincestre dit au buer rai d’Ingletiere,

“Rai, rai, veus-tu sivier? Festes mouvoir ton guere,

Et je te conduira trestout ton gent à foire:

Tu porras Normandi à ce pointes conquerre.”

“Se je pois rai François à bataille contrier,

Et je porrai mon lance desus son cul poier,

Je crai que je ferra si dourrement chier

Qu’il se brisa son test, ou ma cul fu rompier.

Je prendrez bien droitur, se je puis, à Diex poise,

Quant j’arra en mon main Normandi et Pontoise;

Je ferra soz Parris achier mon gent Gloise,

Puis vondrai prender Frans, maugré conte d’Angoise.

Par la .v. plais à Diex, François maubali sont;

Si g’i la puis grapier, certes il chateront.

Quant Inglais irront là, mult bahot i serront;

Par la mort Dieu! je crai que toutes s’enfuiront.”

Sir Symon à Montfort atendi ce navel,

Doncques sailli à piez; il ne fout mie bel.

A dit à rai Inglais, “Par le cors saint Anel!

Lessiez or cesti chos:—François n’est mi anel.

Se vous aler seur leus, il se voudra dafandre:

Toute ta paveillons metra feu à la cendre.

Il n’a si vaelant qui l’ose mi atendre;

Mult sarra maubali qui le François puet prendre.”

“Qoi dites-vous, Symon?” pona Rogier Bigot;

“Bien tenez-vous la rai por binart et por sot?

Fout insi hardouin que vous sone plus mot,

Ne te pot besoner por vostre mileur cot!”

“Sir Rogier,” dit la rai, “por Dieu, ne vous chaele!

Ne sai mi si irrous contre ce merdaele.

Je ne dout mi Françoys tout qui sont une mele;

Je farra ma talent comment la chos aele.

Je pandra bien Parris, je suis toute certaine;

Je bouterra le fu en cele eve qui [fu] Saine;

La moulins arderra; ce fi chos mult gravaine

Se n’i menja de pain de troute la semaine.

[P]ar la .v. plais à Diex, Parris fout vil mult grant

Il i a .i. chapel dont je fi coetant;

Je le ferra portier, à .i. charrier rollant,

A Saint Amont à Londres toute droit en estant.

Quant j’arra soz Parris mené tout me naviaus,

Je ferra le moustier Saint Dinis la Chanciaus

Corronier d’Adouart soz sa blonde chaviaus.

La voudra vous toer de vaches à porciaus.

Je crai que vous verra là endret grosse fest,

Quant d’Adouart arra corroné France test.

Il l’a bien asservi, ma fil; il n’est pas best;

Il fout buen chivaler, hardouin, et honest.”

“Sir rai,” ce dit Rogier, “por Dieu à mai entent;

Tu m’as percé la cul, tel la pitié m’a prent.

Or doint Godelamit, par son culmandement,

Que tu fais cestui chos bien gloriousement!”

Explicit la pais aus Englois.

Translation.—Now comes the time of May, when the rose will open,—when the seasons will be fair, and the nightingale sing,—the fields will be green, and the gardens will bloom;—I have found behind me a thing which I will relate.

Of my King of England, who is in a good ship,—a valiant knight, hardy, and loyal,—and of Edward his son, who hath flaxen hair,—it pleases me to make a saying which is quite new.

And of that King of France, that long baron,—who held Normandy wrongfully by ill event;—long time did he settle his house upon Paris,—that he never but for a war alone put on his spur.

Lords, attend to me; you must not laugh:—all the world ought to cry this news which I bring.—The other day there was at London a great assembly;—there no baron, from the best to the worst, would move,

But they would all come to this great debating.—There would have been done such a thing, I believe truly,—that it would have caused the French King a great fright—concerning the lands which he holds against the English people.

Lords, it is a long time since Merlin prophecied—that Philip of France, a lord who was formerly,—should conquer all the land, such as it is, on this side;—but, at all events, I say it, the English will still have it.

Now is come the time that the English would make an inroad,—if he should find the French inclined to grumble,—who would appear frightened by swords and by greyhounds(?),—that he would have no courage to grumble against the English.

The good King of England drew himself on one side,—he and Richard his brother, as angry as leopards.—He sighs from behind, and so cries with alacrity,—“O God! how may I have my part of Normandy?”

“Do not disturb yourself at all,” said the Earl of Gloucester,—“you may still do it; such things may still easily be,—if God preserve my backside, my foot, and my right fist,—thou shalt still be entire master over Paris.”

The Earl of Winchester said to the noble King of England,—“King, King, wilt thou follow? Set agoing the war,—and I will conduct thee all thy people in abundance:—at this juncture thou wilt be able to conquer Normandy.

“If I can constrain the King of France to a battle,—and I can strike him with my lance behind,—I think that I shall make him fall so hard—that he will break his head, or my tail will be broken.

“I will take good right, if I can, with God’s will,—when I shall have in my hand Normandy and Poitou,—I will make my English people approach to Paris,—and then I will go to take France in spite of the Earl of Anjou.

“By the five wounds of God! the French are in bad case;—if I can lay hold upon them, truly they shall be punished.—When the English go there, there will be a great disturbance;—God’s death! I think they will all fly away.”

Sir Simon de Montfort heard this speech,—then he leaped on his feet; he did not look very handsome.—Says he to the English King, “By the body of the holy Lamb!—now let this thing alone; the Frenchman is not a lamb.

“If you attack them, they will defend themselves:—he will burn all thy tents to ashes.—There is no man so valiant who dare wait for him;—they will be in ill case whom the Frenchman can catch.”

“What is that you say, Simon?” replied Roger Bigot;—“do you take the King for a simpleton and a fool?—if you are so bold as to say another word,—you will not serve yourself with your best coat.”

“Sir Roger,” said the King, “for God’s sake! dont be in a heat;—I am not so angry against this scamp.—I dont care half a farthing for all the French that are;—I will do as I like, let the matter go as it will.

“I will easily take Paris, I am quite certain;—I will set fire to the river which is called Seine;—I will burn the mill; this will be a very grievous thing,—if they eat no bread all the week.

“By the five wounds of God! Paris is a very great city!—There is a chapel, of which I am desirous;—I will cause it to be carried in a rolling cart,—straight to Saint Amont in London, just as it stands.

“When I have led all my ships to Paris,—I will cause the Chancellor in the monastery of St. Denis—to crown Edward on his flaxen hair.—There I will kill for you cows and pigs.

“I believe that you will see there a great feast,—when France shall have crowned Edward’s head. He has well deserved it, my son; he is no fool;—he is a good knight, brave, and courteous.”

“Sir King,” said Roger, “for God’s sake, listen to me;—thou hast pierced me behind, so much has pity overcome me;—Now may God Almighty ordain by his commandment,—that thou perform this thing very gloriously!”

---

The decisive battle of Lewes, in 1264, was the subject of great exultation amongst the adherents of Simon de Montfort. The following song, in English, is directed against the king’s brother, Richard Earl of Cornwall, who had become very unpopular by his foreign schemes of ambition. He took shelter at a windmill, after he saw the king’s party defeated.

SONG AGAINST THE KING OF ALMAIGNE.

[MS. Harl. No. 2253, fol. 58 v^o, of the reign of Edw. II.]

Sitteth alle stille ant herkneth to me:

The Kyn of Alemaigne, bi mi leauté,

Thritti thousent pound askede he

For te make the pees in the countré,

ant so he dude more.

Richard, thah thou be ever trichard,

trichen shalt thou never more.

Richard of Alemaigne, whil that he wes kyng,

He spende al is tresour opon swyvyng;

Haveth he nout of Walingford o ferlyng:—

Let him habbe, ase he brew, bale to dryng,

maugre Wyndesore.

Richard, thah thou be ever, etc.

The Kyng of Alemaigne wende do ful wel,

He saisede the mulne for a castel,

With hare sharpe swerdes he grounde the stel,

He wende that the sayles were mangonel

to helpe Wyndesore.

Richard, etc.

The Kyng of Alemaigne gederede ys host,

Makede him a castel of a mulne post,

Wende with is prude ant is muchele bost,

Brohte from Alemayne mony sori gost

to store Wyndesore.

Richard, etc.

By God, that is aboven ous, he dude muche synne,

That lette passen over see the Erl of Warynne:

He hath robbed Engelond, the mores, ant th[e] fenne,

The gold, ant the selver, ant y-boren henne,

for love of Wyndesore.

Richard, etc.

Sire Simond de Mountfort hath swore bi ys chyn,

Hevede he nou here the Erl of Waryn,

Shulde he never more come to is yn,

Ne with sheld, ne with spere, ne with other gyn,

to help of Wyndesore.

Richard, etc.

Sire Simond de Montfort hath suore bi ys cop,

Hevede he nou here Sire Hue de Bigot,

Al he shulde quite here twelfmoneth scot,

Shulde he never more with his fot pot

to helpe Wyndesore.

Richard, etc.

Be the luef, be the loht, sire Edward,

Thou shalt ride sporeles o thy lyard

Al the ryhte way to Dovere ward;

Shalt thou never more breke fore-ward,

ant that reweth sore:

Edward, thou dudest ase a shreward,

forsoke thyn emes lore.

Richard, etc.

Translation.—Sit all still and listen to me:—the King of Almaigne, by my loyalty,—thirty thousand pound he asked—to make peace in the country,—and so he did more.—Richard, though thou art ever a traitor,—thou shalt never more deceive.

Richard of Almaigne, while he was king,—he spent all his treasure upon luxury;—have he not of Wallingford one furlong:—let him have, as he brews, evil to drink,—in spite of Windsor.

The King of Almaigne thought to do full well,—they seized the mill for a castle;—with their sharp swords they ground the steel,—they thought the sails had been mangonels—to help Windsor.

The King of Almaigne gathered his host,—he made him a castle of a mill-post,—he went with his pride and his great boast,—brought from Almaigne many a wretched soul—to garrison Windsor.

By God, that is above us, he did great sin,—who let the Earl of Warenne pass over sea:—he hath robbed England both the moor and the fen,—of the gold and the silver, and carried them hence,—for love of Windsor.

Sir Simon de Montfort hath sworn by his chin,—had he now here the Earl of Warenne,—he should never more come to his lodging,—neither with shield, nor with spear, nor with other contrivance,—to help Windsor.

Sir Simon de Montfort hath sworn by his head,—had he now here Sir Hugh de Bigot,—he should pay here a twelvemonth’s scot,—he should never more tramp on his feet,—to help Windsor.

Be it agreeable to thee, or disagreeable, Sir Edward,—thou shalt ride spurless on thy hack—all the straight road towards Dover;—thou shalt never more break covenant;—and that sore rueth thee;—Edward, thou didst like a shrew,—forsookest thine uncle’s teaching.

---

The following long, but singularly interesting, poem may be considered as the popular declaration of the principles with which the barons entered into the war, and the objects which they had in view. It bears internal proofs of having been written immediately after the decisive battle of Lewes; and the moderate and deeply moral and religious feeling which the reforming party here shows, even in the moment of triumph, is extremely remarkable, and is closely connected with the complaints against the licentiousness of the other party in the satyrical songs which precede. We might almost suppose ourselves transported to the days of Wickliffe or Cromwell.

THE BATTLE OF LEWES.

[MS. Harl. 978. fol. 128, r^o. of the middle of the 13th cent.]

Calamus velociter scribe sic scribentis,

Lingua laudabiliter te benedicentis,

Dei patris dextera, domine virtutum,

Qui das tuis prospera quando vis ad nutum;

In te jam confidere discant universi,

Quos volebant perdere qui nunc sunt dispersi.

Quorum caput capitur, membra captivantur;

Gens elata labitur, fideles lætantur.

Jam respirat Anglia, sperans libertatem;

Cuï Dei gratia det prosperitatem! 10

Comparati canibus Angli viluerunt,

Sed nunc victis hostibus caput extulerunt.

Gratiæ millesimo ducentesimoque

Anno sexagesimo quarto, quarta quoque

Feria Pancratii post sollempnitatem,

Valde gravis prelii tulit tempestatem

Anglorum turbatio, castroque Lewensi;

Nam furori ratio, vita cessit ensi.

Pridie qui Maii Idus confluxerunt,

Horrendi discidii bellum commiserunt; 20

Quod fuit Susexiæ factum comitatu,

Fuit et Cicestriæ in episcopatu.

Gladius invaluit, multi ceciderunt,

Veritas prævaluit, falsique fugerunt.

Nam perjuris restitit dominus virtutum,

Atque puris præstitit veritatis scutum.

Hos vastavit gladius foris, intus pavor;

Confortavit plenius istos cœli favor.

Victoris sollempnia sanctæque coronæ

Reddunt testimonia super hoc agone; 30

Cum dictos ecclesia sanctos honoravit,

Milites victoria veros coronavit.

Dei sapientia, regens totum mundum,

Fecit mirabilia bellumque jocundum;

Fortes fecit fugere, virosque virtutis

In claustro se claudere, locis quoque tutis.

Non armis sed gratia christianitatis,

Id est in ecclesia, excommunicatis

Unicum refugium restabat, relictis

Equis, hoc consilium occurrebat victis. 40

Et quam non timuerant prius prophanare,

Quam more debuerant matris honorare,

Ad ipsam refugiunt, licet minus digni,

Amplexus se muniunt salutaris ligni.

Quos matrem contempnere prospera fecerunt,

Vulnera cognoscere matrem compulerunt.

Apud Northamptoniam dolo prosperati,

Spreverunt ecclesiam infideles nati;

Sanctæ matris viscera ferro turbaverunt,

Prosperis non prospera bella meruerunt. 50

Mater tunc injuriam tulit patienter,

Quasi per incuriam, sed nec affluenter:

Punit hanc et alias quas post addiderunt,

Nam multas ecclesias insani læserunt;

Namque monasterium, quod Bellum vocatur,

Turba sævientium, quæ nunc conturbatur,

Inmisericorditer bonis spoliavit,

Atque sibi taliter bellum præparavit.

Monachi Cystercii de Ponte-Roberti

A furore gladii non fuissent certi, 60

Si quingentas principi marcas non dedissent.

Quas Edwardus accipi jussit, vel perissent.

Hiis atque similibus factis meruerunt

Quod cesserunt hostibus et succubuerunt.

Benedicat dominus .S. de Monte-Forti!

Suis nichilominus natis et cohorti!

Qui se magnanimiter exponentes morti,

Pugnaverunt fortiter, condolentes sorti

Anglicorum flebili, qui subpeditati

Modo vix narrabili, peneque privati 70

Cunctis libertatibus, immo sua vita,

Sub duris principibus langüerunt ita,

Ut Israelitica plebs sub Pharaone,

Gemens sub tyrannica devastatione.

Sed hanc videns populi Deus agoniam,

Dat in fine seculi novum Mathathiam,

Et cum suis filiis zelans zelum legis,

Nec cedit injuriis nec furori regis.

Seductorem nominant .S. atque fallacem;

Facta sed examinant probantque veracem. 80

Dolosi deficiunt in necessitate;

Qui mortem non fugiunt, sunt in veritate.

Sed nunc dicit æmulus, et insidiator,

Cujus nequam oculus pacis perturbator:

“Si laudas constantiam, si fidelitatem,

Quæ mortis instantiam vel pœnalitatem

Non fugit, æqualiter dicentur constantes

Qui concurrunt pariter invicem pugnantes,

Pariter discrimini semet exponentes,

Duroque cognomini se subjicientes.” 90

Sed in nostro prelio cuï nunc instamus,

Qualis sit discretio rei videamus.

Comes paucos habuit armorum expertos

Pars regis intumuit, bellatores certos

Et majores Angliæ habens congregatos,

Floremque militiæ regni nominatos;

Qui Londoniensibus armis comparati,

Essent multis milibus trecenti prælati;

Unde contemptibiles illis extiterunt,

Et abhominabiles expertis fuerunt. 100

Comitis militia plurima tenella;

In armis novitia, parum novit bella.

Nunc accinctus gladio tener adolescens

Mane stat in prelio armis assuescens;

Quid mirum si timeat tyro tam novellus,

Et si lupum caveat impotens agnellus?

Sic ergo militia sunt inferiores

Qui pugnant pro Anglia, sunt et pauciores

Multo viris fortibus, de sua virtute

Satis gloriantibus, ut putarent tute, 110

Et sine periculo, velut absorbere

Quotquot adminiculo Comiti fuere.

Nam et quos adduxerat Comes ad certamen,

De quibus speraverat non parvum juvamen,

Plurimi perterriti mox se subtraxerunt,

Et velut attoniti fugæ se dederunt;

Et de tribus partibus tertia recessit.

Comes cum fidelibus paucis nunquam cessit.

Gedeonis prelium nostro comparemus,

In quibus fidelium vincere videmus 120

Paucos multos numero fidem non habentes,

Similes Lucifero de se confidentes.

“Si darem victoriam,” dicit Deus, “multis,

Stulti michi gloriam non darent, sed stultis.”

Sic si Deus fortibus vincere dedisset,

Vulgus laudem talibus non Deo dedisset.

Ex hiis potest elici quod non timuerunt

Deum viri bellici, unde nil fecerunt

Quod suam constantiam vel fidelitatem

Probet, sed superbiam et crudelitatem; 130

Volentes confundere partem quam spreverunt,

Exeuntes temere cito corruerunt.

Cordis exaltatio præparat ruinam,

Et humiliatio meretur divinam

Dari sibi gratiam; nam qui non confidit

De Deo, superbiam Deus hanc elidit.

Aman introducimus atque Mardocheum;

Hunc superbum legimus, hunc verum Judæum;

Lignum quod paraverat Aman Mardocheo,

Mane miser tollerat suspensus in eo. 140

Reginæ convivium Aman excœcavit,

Quod ut privilegium magnum reputavit;

Sed spes vana vertitur in confusionem,

Cum post mensam trahitur ad suspensionem.

Sic extrema gaudii luctus occupavit,

Cum finem convivii morti sociavit.

Longe dissimiliter accidit Judæo,

Honorat sublimiter quem rex, dante Deo.

Golias prosternitur projectu lapilli;

Quem Deus persequitur, nichil prodest illi. 150

Ad prædictas varias adde rationes,

Quod tot fornicarias fætidi lenones

Ad se convocaverant, usque septingentas,

Quas scire debuerant esse fraudulentas,

Sathanæ discipulas ad decipiendas

Animas, et faculas ad has incendendas,

Dolosas novaculas ad crines Samsonis

Radendos, et maculas turpis actionis

Inferentes miseris qui non sunt cordati,

Nec divini muneris gratia firmati, 160

Carnis desideriis animales dati,

Cujus immunditiis, brutis comparati,

Esse ne victoria digni debuerunt,

Qui carnis luxuria fœda sorduerunt:

Factis lupanaribus robur minuerunt,

Unde militaribus indigni fuerunt.

Accingitur gladio super femur miles,

Absit dissolutio, absint actus viles;

Corpus novi militis solet balneari,

Ut a factis vetitis discat emundari. 170

Qui de novo duxerant uxores legales,

Domini non fuerant apti bello tales,

Gedeonis prelio teste, multo minus

Quos luxus incendio læserat caminus.

Igitur adulteros cur Deus juvaret,

Et non magis pueros mundos roboraret?

Mundentur qui cupiunt vincere pugnando;

Qui culpas subjiciunt sunt in triumphando;

Primo vincant vitia, qui volunt victores

Esse cum justitia super peccatores. 180

Si justus ab impio quandoque videtur

Victus, e contrario victor reputetur;

Nam nec justus poterit vinci, nec iniquus

Vincere dum fuerit juris inimicus.

Æquitatem comitis Symonis audite:

Cum pars regis capitis ipsius et vitæ

Solam pœnam quæreret, nec redemptionem

Capitis admitteret, sed abscisionem,

Quo confuso plurima plebs confunderetur,

Et pars regni maxima periclitaretur, 190

Ruina gravissima statim sequeretur;

Quæ mora longissima non repareretur!

.S. divina gratia præsul Cycestrensis,

Alta dans suspiria pro malis immensis

Jam tunc imminentibus, sine fictione,

Persüasis partibus de formatione

Pacis, hoc a Comite responsum audivit:

“Optimos eligite, quorum fides vivit,

Qui decreta legerint, vel theologiam

Decenter docuerint sacramque sophiam, 200

Et qui sciant regere fidem Christianam;

Quicquidque consulere per doctrinam sanam

Quicquidve discernere tales non timebunt,

Quod dicent, suscipere promptos nos habebunt;

Ita quod perjurii notam nesciamus,

Sed ut Dei filii fidem teneamus.”

Hinc possunt perpendere facile jurantes,

Et quod jurant spernere parum dubitantes,

Quamvis jurent licita, cito recedentes,

Deoque pollicita sana non reddentes, 210

Quanta cura debeant suum juramentum

Servare, cum videant virum nec tormentum

Neque mortem fugere propter jusjurandum,

Præstitum non temere, sed ad reformandum

Statum qui deciderat Anglicanæ gentis,

Quem fraus violaverat hostis invidentis.

En Symon obediens spernit dampna rerum,

Pœnis se subjiciens, ne dimittat verum,

Cunctis palam prædicans factis plus quam dictis,

Quod non est communicans veritas cum fictis. 220

Væ perjuris miseris, qui non timent Deum!

Spe terreni muneris abnegantes eum,

Vel timore carceris, sive pœnæ levis;

Novus dux itineris docet ferre quævis

Quæ mundus intulerit propter veritatem,

Quæ perfectam poterit dare libertatem.

Nam Comes præstiterat prius juramentum,

Quod quicquid providerat zelus sapientum

Ad honoris regii reformationem,

Et erroris devii declinationem, 230

Partibus Oxoniæ, firmiter servaret,

Hujusque sententiæ legem non mutaret;

Sciens tam canonicas constitutiones

Atque tam catholicas ordinationes

Ad regni pacificam conservationem,

Propter quas non modicam persecutionem

Prius sustinuerat, non esse spernandas;

Et quia juraverat fortiter tenendas,

Nisi perfectissimi fidei doctores

Dicerent, quod eximi possent juratores, 240

Qui tale præstiterant prius jusjurandum,

Et id quod juraverant non esse curandum.

Quod cum dictus pontifex regi recitaret,

Atque fraudis artifex forsitan astaret,

Vox in altum tollitur turbæ tumidorum,

“En jam miles subitur dictis clericorum!

Viluit militia clericis subjecta!”

Sic est sapientia Comitis despecta;

Edwardusque dicitur ita respondisse,

“Pax illis præcluditur, nisi laqueis se 250

Collis omnes alligent, et ad suspendendum

Semet nobis obligent, vel ad detrahendum.”

Quid mirum si Comitis cor tunc moveretur,

Cum non nisi stipitis pœna pareretur?

Optulit quod debuit, sed non est auditus;

Rex mensuram respuit, salutis oblitus.

Sed ut rei docuit crastinus eventus,

Modus quem tunc noluit post non est inventus.

Comitis devotio sero deridetur,

Cujus cras congressio victrix sentietur. 260

Lapis hic ab hostibus diu reprobatus,

Post est parietibus duobus aptatus.

Angliæ divisio desolationis

Fuit in confinio, sed divisionis

Affuit præsidio lapis angularis,

Symonis religio sane singularis.

Fides et fidelitas Symonis solius

Fit pacis integritas Angliæ totius;

Rebelles humiliat, levat desperatos,

Regnum reconsilians, reprimens elatos. 270

Quos quo modo reprimit? certe non laudendo,

Sed rubrum jus exprimit dure confligendo;

Ipsum nam confligere veritas coegit,

Vel verum deserere, sed prudens elegit

Magis dare dexteram suam veritati,

Viamque per asperam junctam probitati,

Per grave compendium tumidis ingratum,

Optinere bravium violentis datum,

Quam per subterfugium Deo displicere,

Pravorumque studium fuga promovere. 280

Nam quidam studuerant Anglorum delere

Nomen, quos jam cæperant exosos habere,

Contra quos opposuit Deus medicinam,

Ipsorum cum noluit subitam ruinam.

Hinc alienigenas discant advocare

Angli, si per advenas volunt exulare.

Nam qui suam gloriam volunt ampliare,

Suamque memoriam vellent semper stare,

Suæ gentis plurimos sibi sociari,

Et mox inter maximos student collocare; 290

Itaque confusio crescit incolarum,

Crescit indignatio, crescit cor amarum,

Cum se premi sentiunt regni principales

Ab hiis qui se faciunt sibi coæquales,

Quæ sua debuerant esse subtrahentes,

Quibus consüeverant crescere, crescentes.

Eschaetis et gardiis suos honorare

Debet rex, qui variis modis se juvare

Possunt, qui quo viribus sunt valentiores,

Eo cunctis casibus sunt securiores. 300

Sed qui nil attulerant, si suis ditantur,

Qui nullius fuerant, si magnificantur,

Crescere cum ceperint, semper scandunt tales

Donec supplantaverint viros naturales;

Principis avertere cor a suis student,

Ut quos volunt cadere gloria denudent.

Et quis posset talia ferre patienter?

Ergo discat Anglia cavere prudenter,

Ne talis perplexitas amplius contingat,

Ne talis adversitas Anglicos inpingat. 310

Hüic malo studuit comes obviare,

Quod nimis invaluit quasi magnum mare,

Quod parvo conamine nequibat siccari,

Sed magno juvamine Dei transvadari.

Veniant extranei cito recessuri,

Quasi momentanei, sed non permansuri.

Una juvat aliam manuum duarum,

Neutra tollens gratiam verius earum;

Juvet et non noceat locum retinendo.

Quæque suum valeat ita veniendo; 320

Gallicus ad Anglicum benefaciendo.

Et non per sophisticum vultum seducendo,

Nec alter alterius bona subtrahendo;

Immo suum potius onus sustinendo.

Commodum si proprium comitem movisset,

Nec haberet alium zelum, nec quæsisset

Toto suo studio reformationi

Regni, sed intentio dominationi,

Solam suam quæreret, et promotionem

Suorum proponerat, ad ditationem 330

Filiorum tenderet, et communitatis

Salutem negligeret, ac duplicitatis

Palli[o] supponeret virus falsitatis;

Sic fidem relinqueret Christianitatis,

Et horrendæ subderet se pœnalitatis

Legi, nec effugeret pondus tempestatis.

Et quis potest credere quod se morti daret,

Suos vellet perdere, ut sic exaltaret?

Callide si palliant honorem venantes;

Et quod mortem fugiant semper meditantes; 340

Nulli magis diligunt vitam temporalem,

Nulli magis eligunt statum non mortalem.

Honores qui sitiunt simulate tendunt,

Caute sibi faciunt nomen quod intendunt;

Non sic venerabilis .S. de Monte-forti,

Qui se Christo similis dat pro multis morti;

Ysaac non moritur cum sit promptus mori;

Vervex morti traditur, Ysaac honori.

Nec fraus nec fallacia Comitem promovit,

Sed divina gratia, quæ quos juvet novit. 350

Horam si vocaveris locum que conflictus,

Invenire poteris quod ut esset victus

Potius quam vinceret illi conferebat;

Sed ut non succumberet Deus providebat.

Non de nocte subito surripit latenter;

Immo die redito pugnat evidenter.

Sic et locus hostibus fuit oportunus,

Ut hinc constet omnibus esse Dei munus,

Quod cessit victoria de se confidenti.

Hinc discat militia, quæ torneamenti 360

Laudat exercitium, ut sic expedita

Reddatur ad prælium, qualiter contrita

Fuit hic pars fortium exercitatorum,

Armis imbecillium et inexpertorum:

Ut confundet fortia, promovet infirmos,

Confortat debilia Deus, sternit firmos.

Sic nemo confidere de se jam præsumat;

Sed in Deum ponere spem si sciat, sumat

Arma cum constantia, nichil dubitando,

Cum sit pro justitia Deus adjuvando. 370

Sicque Deum decuit Comitem juvare,

Sine quo non potuit hostem superare.

Cujus hostem dixerim? Comitis solius?

Vel Anglorum sciverim regnique totius?

Forsan et ecclesiæ, igitur et Dei?

Quod si sic, quid gratiæ; conveniret ei?

Gratiam demeruit in se confidendo,

Nec juvari debuit Deum non timendo.

Cadit ergo gloria propriæ virtutis;

Et sic in memoria, qui dat destitutis 380

Viribus auxilium, paucis contra multos,

Virtute fidelium conterendo stultos,

Benedictus dominus Deus ultionum!

Qui in cœlis eminus sedet super thronum,

Et virtute propria colla superborum

Calcat, subdens grandia pedibus minorum.

Duos reges subdidit et hæredes regum,

Quos captivos reddidit transgressores legum,

Pompamque militiæ cum magna sequela

Dedit ignominiæ; nam barones tela 390

Quæ zelo justitiæ pro regno sumpserunt,

Filiis superbiæ communicaverunt,

Usque dum victoria de cœlo dabatur,

Cum ingenti gloria quæ non sperabatur,

Arcus namque fortium tunc est superatus,

Cœtus inbecillium robore firmatus;

Et de cœlo diximus, ne quis glorietur;

Sed Christo quem credimus omnis honor detur!

Christus enim imperat, vincit, regnat idem;

Christus suos liberat, quibus dedit fidem. 400

Ne victorum animus manus osculetur

Suas, Deum petimus quod illis præstetur;

Et quod Paulus suggerit ab ipsis servetur,

“Qui lætatus fuerit, in Deo lætetur.”

Si quis nostrum gaudeat vane gloriatus,

Dominus indulgeat, et non sit iratus!

Et cautos efficiat nostros in futurum;

Ne factum deficiat, faciant se murum!

Quod cæpit perficiat vis omnipotentis,

Regnumque reficiat Anglicanæ gentis! 410

Ut sit sibi gloria, suis pax electis,

Donec sint in patria se duce provectis.

Hæc Angli de prælio legite Lewensi,

Cujus patrocinio vivitis defensi;

Quia si victoria jam victis cessisset,

Anglorum memoria victa viluisset.

Cuï comparabitur nobilis Edwardus?

Forte nominabitur recte leopardus.

Si nomen dividimus, leo fit et pardus:

Leo, quia vidimus quod non fuit tardus 420

Aggredi fortissima, nullius occursum

Timens, audacissima virtute discursum

Inter castra faciens, et velut ad votum

Ubi et proficiens, ac si mundum totum

Alexandro similis cito subjugaret

Si fortunæ mobilis rota semper staret;

In qua summus protinus sciat se casurum,

Qui regnat ut dominus parum regnaturum.

Quod Edwardo nobili liquet accidisse,

Quem gradu non stabili constat cecidisse. 430

Leo per superbiam, per ferocitatem;

Est per inconstantiam et varietatem

Pardus, verbum varians et promissionem,

Per placentem pallians se locutionem.

Cum in arcto fuerit quicquid vis promittit;

Sed mox ut evaserit, promissum dimittit.

Testis sit Glovernia, ubi quod juravit

Liber ab angustia statim revocavit.

Dolum seu fallaciam quibus expeditur

Nominat prudentiam; via qua venitur 440

Quo vult quamvis devia recta reputatur;

Nefas det placentia, fasque nominatur;

Quicquid libet licitum dicit, et a lege

Se putat explicitum, quasi major rege.

Nam rex omnis regitur legibus quas legit;

Rex Saül repellitur, quia leges fregit;

Et punitus legitur David mox ut egit

Contra legem; igitur hinc sciat qui legit,

Quod non potest regere qui non servat legem;

Nec hunc debent facere ad quos spectat regem. 450

O Edwarde! fieri vis rex, sine lege;

Vere forent miseri recti tali rege!

Nam quid lege rectius qua cuncta reguntur,

Et quid jure verius quo res discernuntur?

Si regnum desideras, leges venerare;

Vias dabit asperas leges impugnare,

Asperas et invias quæ te non perducent;

Leges si custodias ut lucerna lucent.

Ergo dolum caveas et abomineris;

Veritati studeas, falsum detesteris. 460

Quamvis dolus floreat, fructus nequit ferre;

Hoc te psalmus doceat; ad fideles terræ

Dicit Deus, “Oculi mei sunt, sedere

Quos in fine seculi mecum volo vere.”

Dolus Northamptoniæ vide quid nunc valet;

Nec fervor fallaciæ velut ignis calet.

Si dolum volueris igni comparare,

Paleas studueris igni tali dare,

Quæ mox, ut exarserint, desistunt ardere,

Et cum vix inceperint terminum tenere. 470

Ita transit vanitas non habens radices;

Radicata veritas non mutat per vices.

Ergo tibi libeat id solum quod licet,

Et non tibi placeat quod vir duplex dicet.

Princeps quæ sunt principe digna cogitabit:

Ergo legem suscipe, quæ te dignum dabit

Multorum regimine, dignum principatu,

Multorum juvamine, multo comitatu.

Et quare non diligis quorum rex vis esse?

Prodesse non eligis, sed tantum præesse. 480

Qui nullius gloriam nisi suam quærit,

Ejus per superbiam quicquid regit, perit.

Ita totum periit nuper quod regebas;

Gloria præteriit quam solam quærebas;

En radicem tangimus perturbationis

Regni de quo scribimus, et dissentionis

Partium quæ prælium dictum commiserunt.

Ad diversa studium suum converterunt.

Rex cum suis voluit ita liber esse;

Et sic esse debuit, fuitque necesse 490

Aut esse desineret rex, privatus jure

Regis, nisi faceret quicquid vellet; curæ

Non esse magnatibus regni, quos præferret

Suis comitatibus, vel quibus conferret

Castrorum custodiam, vel quem exhibere

Populo justitiam vellet, et habere

Regni cancellarium thesaurariumque.

Suum ad arbitrium voluit quemcumque,

Et consiliarios de quacumque gente,

Et ministros varios se præcipiente, 500

Non intromittentibus se de factis regis

Angliæ baronibus, vim habente legis

Principis imperio, et quod imperaret

Suomet arbitrio singulos ligaret.

Nam et comes quilibet sic est compos sui,

Dans suorum quidlibet quantum vult et cuï

Castra, terras, redditus, cuï vult committit,

Et quamvis sit subditus, rex totum permittit.

Quod si bene fecerit, prodest facienti;

Si non, ipse viderit, sibimet nocenti 510

Rex non adversabitur. Cur conditionis

Pejoris efficitur princeps, si baronis,

Militis, et liberi res ita tractantur?

Quare regem fieri servum machinantur,

Qui suam minuere volunt potestatem,

Principis adimere suam dignitatem,

Volunt in custodiam et subjectionem

Regiam potentiam per seditionem

Captivam retrudere, et exhæredare

Regem, ne tam ubere valeat regnare 520

Sicut reges hactenus qui se præcesserunt,

Qui suis nullatenus subjecti fuerunt,

Sed suas ad libitum res distribuerunt,

Et ad suum placitum sua contulerunt.

Hæc est regis ratio, quæ vera videtur,

Et hæc allegatio jus regni tuetur.

Sed nunc ad oppositum calamus vertatur:—

Baronum propositum dictis subjungatur;

Et auditis partibus dicta conferantur,

Atque certis finibus collata claudantur, 530

Ut quæ pars sit verior valeat liquere.

Veriori promor populus parere.

Baronum pars igitur jam pro se loquatur,

Et quo zelo ducitur rite prosequatur.

Quæ pars in principio palam protestatur,

Quod honori regio nichil machinatur;

Vel quærit contrarium, immo reformare

Studet statum regium et magnificare;

Sicut si ab hostibus regnum vastaretur,

Non sine baronibus tune reformaretur, 540

Quibus hoc competeret atque conveniret;

Et qui tunc se fingeret, ipsum lex puniret

Ut reum perjurii, regis proditorem,

Qui quicquid auxilii regis ad honorem

Potest, debet domino cum periclitatur,

Cum velut in termino regnum deformatur.

Regis adversarii sunt hostes bellantes,

Et consiliarii regi adulantes,

Qui verbis fallacibus principem seducunt,

Linguisque duplicibus in errorem ducunt: 550

Hii sunt adversarii perversis pejores;

Hii se bonos faciunt cum sint seductores,

Et honoris proprii sunt procuratores;

Incautos decipiunt, quos securiores

Reddunt per placentia, unde non caventur,

Sed velut utilia dicentes censentur.

Hii possunt decipere plusquam manifesti,

Qui se sciunt fingere velut non infesti.

Quid si tales miseri, talesque mendaces,

Adhærerent lateri principis, capaces 560

Totius malitiæ, fraudis, falsitatis,

Stimulis invidiæ puncti, pravitatis

Facinus exquirerent, per quod regni jura

Ad suas inflecterent pompas, quæque dura

Argumenta fingerent, quæ communitatem

Paulatim confunderent, universitatem

Populi contererent et depauperarent,

Regnumque subverterent et infatuarent,

Quod nullus justitiam posset optinere,

Nisi qui superbiam talium fovere 570

Vellet, per pecuniam largiter collatam;

Quis tantam injuriam sustineret ratam?

Et si tales studiis suis immutarent

Regnum, ut injuriis jura supplantarent;

Calcatis indigenis advenas vocarent;

Et alienigenis regnum subjugarent:

Magnates et nobiles terne non curarent,

Atque contemptibiles in summo locarent;

Et magnos dejicerent et humiliarent;

Ordinem perverterent et præposterarent; 580

Optima relinquerent, pessimis instarent;

Nonne qui sic facerent regnum devastarent?

Quamvis armis bellicis foris non pugnarent,

Tamen diabolicis armis dimicarent,

Et regni flebiliter statum violarent;

Quamvis dissimiliter, non minus dampnarent.

Sive rex consentiens per seductionem,

Talem non percipiens circumventionem,

Approbaret talia regni destructiva;

Seu rex ex malitia faceret nociva, 590

Proponendo legibus suam potestatem,

Abutendo viribus propter facultatem;

Sive sic vel aliter regnum vastaretur,

Aut regnum finaliter destitueretur,

Tunc regni magnatibus cura deberetur,

Ut cunctis erroribus terra purgaretur.

Quibus si purgatio convenit errorum,

Convenit provisio gubernatrix morum,

Qualiter prospicere sibi non liceret,

Ne malum contingere posset quod noceret? 600

Quod postquam contigerit debent amovere,

Subitum ne faciat incautos dolere.

Sic quod non eveniat quicquam prædictorum,

Quod pacis impediat vel bonorum morum

Formam, sed inveniat zelus peritorum

Quod magis expediat commodo multorum;

Cur melioratio non admitteretur,

Cuï vitiatio nulla commiscetur?

Nam regis clementia regis et majestas

Approbare studia debet, quæ molestas 610

Leges ita temperant quod sunt mitiores,

Et dum minus onerant Deo gratiores.

Non enim oppressio plebis Deo placet,

Immo miseratio qua plebs Deo vacet.

Phara[o] qui populum Dei sic afflixit,

Quod vix ad oraculum Moysi quod dixit

Poterant attendere, post est sic punitus,

Israel dimittere cogitur invitus;

Et qui comprehendere credidit dimissum,

Mersus est dum currere putat per abyssum. 620

Salomon conterere Israel nolebat,

Nec ullum de genere servire cogebat;

Quia Dei populum scivit quem regebat,

Et Dei signaculum lædere timebat;

Et plusquam judicium laudat misereri,

Et plusquam supplicium pacem patri veri.

Cum constat baronibus hæc cuncta licere,

Restat rationibus regis respondere.

Amotis custodibus vult rex liber esse,

Subdique minoribus non vult sed præesse; 630

Imperare subditis et non imperari;

Sibi nec præpositis vult humiliari.

Non enim præpositi regi præponuntur;

Immo magis incliti qui jus supponuntur.

Unius rex aliter unicus non esset,

Sed regnarent pariter quibus rex subesset.

Et hoc inconveniens quod tantum videtur,

Sit Deus subveniens, facile solvetur.

Deum namque credimus velle veritatem,

Per quem sic dissolvimus hanc dubietatem. 640

Unus solus dicitur et est rex revera,

Per quem mundus regitur majestate mera;

Non egens auxilio quo possit regnare,

Sed neque consilio qui nequit errare.

Ergo potens omnia sciensque præcedit

Infinita gloria omnes quibus dedit

Sub se suos regere quasique regnare,

Qui possunt deficere, possunt et errare,

Et qui suis viribus nequeunt præstare,

Suisque virtutibus hostes expugnare, 650

Neque sensu proprio regna gubernare,

Sed erroris invio male deviare.

Indigent auxilio sibi suffragante,

Necnon et consilio se rectificante.

Dicit rex: “Consentio tuæ rationi;

Sed horum electio subsit optioni

Meæ; quos voluero michi sociabo,

Quorum patrocinio cuncta gubernabo;

Et si mei fuerint insufficientes,

Sensum non habuerint, aut non sint potentes, 660

Aut si sint malevoli, et non sint fideles,

Sed sint forte subdoli, volo quod reveles

Cur ad certas debeam personas arctari,

A quibus prævaleam melius juvari?”

Cujus rei ratio cito declaratur,

Si quæ sit arctatio regis attendatur;

Non omnis arctatio privat libertatem,

Nec omnis districtio tollit potestatem.

Potestatem liberam volunt principantes,

Servitutem miseram nolunt dominantes. 670

Ad quid vult libera lex reges arctari?

Ne possint adultera lege maculari.

Et hæc coarctatio non est servitutis,

Sed est ampliatio regiæ virtutis.

Sic servatur parvulus regis ne lædatur;

Non fit tamen servulus quando sic arctatur.

Sed et sic angelici spiritus arctantur.

Qui quod apostatici non sint confirmantur.

Nam quod Auctor omnium non potest errare,

Omnium principium non potest peccare, 680

Non est inpotentia, sed summa potestas,

Magna Dei gloria magnaque majestas.

Sic qui potest cadere, si custodiatur

Ne cadat, quod libere vivat, adjuvatur

A tali custodia, nec est servitutis

Talis sustinentia, sed tutrix virtutis.

Ergo regi libeat omne quod est bonum,

Sed malum non audeat; hoc est Dei donum.

Qui regem custodiunt ne peccet temptatus,

Ipsi regi serviunt, quibus esse gratus 690

Sit, quod ipsum liberant ne sit servus factus,

Quod ipsum non superant a quibus est tractus.

Sed quis vere fuerit rex, est liber vere

Si se recte rexerit regnumque; licere

Sibi sciat omnia quæ regno regendo

Sunt convenientia, sed non destruendo.

Aliud est regere quod incumbit regi;

Aliud destruere resistendo legi.

A ligando dicitur lex, quæ libertatis

Tam perfecte legitur qua servitur gratis. 700

Omnis rex intelligat quod est servus Dei:

Illud tantum diligat quod est placens ei;

Et illius gloriam quærat in regendo,

Non suam superbiam pares contempnendo.

Rex qui regnum subditum sibi vult parere,

Reddat Deo debitum alioquin vere;

Sciat quod obsequium sibi non debetur,

Qui negat servitium quo Deo tenetur.

Rursum sciat populum non suum sed Dei,

Et ut adminiculum suum prosit ei: 710

Et qui parvo tempore populo præfertur,

Cito clausus marmore terræ subinfertur.

In illos se faciat ut unum ex illis;

Saltantem respiciat David cum ancillis.

Regi David similis utinam succedat,

Vir prudens et humilis qui suos non lædat;

Certe qui non læderet populum subjectum,

Sed illis impenderet amoris affectum,

Et ipsius quæreret salutis profectum,

Ipsum non permitteret plebs pati defectum. 720

Durum est diligere se non diligentem;

Durum non despicere se despicientem;

Durum non resistere se destituenti;

Convenit applaudere se suscipienti.

Principis conterere non est, sed tueri;

Principis obprimere non est, sed mereri

Multis beneficiis suorum favorem,

Sicut Christus gratiis omnium amorem.

Si princeps amaverit, debet reamari;

Si recte regnaverit, debet honorari; 730

Si princeps erraverit, debet revocari

Ab hiis quos gravaverit injuste negari,

Nisi velit corrigi; si vult emendari,

Debet ab hiis erigi simul et juvari.

Istam princeps teneat regulam regnandi,

Ut opus non habeat non suos vocandi:

Qui confundunt subditos principes ignari,

Sentient indomitos sic nolle domari.

Si princeps putaverit universitate

Quod solus habuerit plus de veritate, 740

Et plus de scientia, plus cognitionis,

Plus abundet gratia, plusque Dei donis:

Si non sit præsumptio, immo sit revera,

Sua tune instructio suorum sincera

Subditorum lumine corda perlustrabit;

Et cum moderamine suos informabit.

Moysen proponimus, David, Samuelem,

Quorum quemque novimus principem fidelem;

Qui a suis subditis multa pertulerunt,

Nec tamen pro meritis illos abjecerunt, 750

Nec illis extraneos superposuerunt,

Sed rexerunt per eos qui sui fuerunt.

“Ego te præficiam populo majori,

Et hunc interficiam;” dicit Deus.—“Mori

Malo, quam hic pereat populus,” benignus

Moyses respondeat, principatu dignus.

Sicque princeps sapiens nunquam reprobabit

Suos, sed insipiens regnum conturbabit.

Unde si rex sapiat minus quam deberet;

Quid regno conveniat regendo? num quæret 760

Suo sensu proprio quibus fulciatur,

Quibus diminutio sua suppleatur?

Si solus elegerit, facile falletur,

Utilis qui fuerit a quo nescietur.

Igitur communitas regni consulatur;

Et quid universitas sentiat, sciatur,

Cuï leges propriæ maxime sunt notæ.

Nec cuncti provinciæ sic sunt idiotæ,

Quin sciant plus cæteris regni sui mores,

Quos relinquunt posteris hii qui sunt priores. 770

Qui reguntur legibus magis ipsas sciunt;

Quorum sunt in usibus plus periti fiunt;

Et quia res agitur sua, plus curabunt,

Et quo pax adquiritur sibi procurabunt.

Pauca scire poterunt qui non sunt experti;

Parum regno proderunt, nisi qui sunt certi.

Ex hiis potest colligi quod communitatem

Tangit quales eligi ad utilitatem

Regni recte debeant; qui velint et sciant

Et prodesse valeant, tales regis fiant 780

Et consiliarii et coadjutores;

Quibus noti varii patriæ sunt mores;

Qui se lædi sentiunt, si regnum lædatur;

Regnumque custodiunt, ne, si noceatur

Toti, partes doleant simul patientes;

Gaudenti congaudeant, si sint diligentes.

Nobile juditium regis Salomonis

Ponamus in medium; quæ divisionis

Parvuli non horruit inhumanitatem,

Quia non condoluit atque pietatem 790

Maternam non habuit, quod mater non erat

Teste rege docuit; ergo tales quærat

Princeps, qui condoleant universitati,

Qui materne timeant regnum dura pati.

Sed si quem non moveat ruina multorum;

Si solus optineat quæ vult placitorum;

Multorum regimini non est coaptatus,

Suo cum sit omnium soli totus datus.

Communis conveniens est communitati;

Sed vir incompatiens cordis indurati 800

Non curat si veniant multis casus duri;

Casibus non obviant tales modo muri.

Igitur eligere si rex per se nescit

Qui sibi consulere sciant, hinc patescit

Quid tunc debet fieri. Nam communitatis

Est ne fiant miseri duces dignitatis

Regiæ, sed optimi et electi viri,

Atque probatissimi qui possint inquiri.

Nam cum gubernatio regni sit cunctorum

Salus vel perditio, multum refert quorum 810

Sit regni custodia; sicut est in navi;

Confunduntur omnia si præsint ignavi;

Si quis transfretantium positus in navi

Ad se pertinentium abutatur clavi,

Non refert si prospere navis gubernetur.

Sic qui regnum regere debent, cura detur

Si de regno quispiam non recte se regit;

Viam vadit inviam quam forsan elegit.

Optime res agitur universitatis,

Si regnum dirigitur via veritatis. 820

Et tamen si subditi sua dissipare

Studeant, præpositi possunt refrenare

Suorum stultitiam et temeritatem,

Ne per insolentiam vel fatuitatem

Stultorum potentia regni subnervetur,

Hostibus audacia contra regnum detur.

Nam quocumque corporis membro violato,

Fit minoris roboris corpus. Ita dato

Quod vel viri liceat propriis abuti,

Quamvis regno noceat; plures mox secuti 830

Et libertatem noxiam, sic multiplicabunt

Erroris insaniam, quod totum dampnabunt.

Nec libertas proprie debet nominari,

Quæ permittit inscie stultos dominari;

Sed libertas finibus juris limitetur,

Spretisque limitibus error reputetur.

Alioquin liberum dices furiosum,

Quamvis omne prosperum illi sit exosum.

Ergo regis ratio de suis subjectis,

Suomet arbitrio quorum volunt vectis, 840

Per hoc satis solvitur, satis infirmatur;

Dum quivis qui subditur majore domatur.

Quia nulli hominum dicemus licere

Quicquid vult, sed dominum quemlibet habere

Qui errantem corrigat, benefacientem

Adjuvat, et erigit quandoque cadentem.

Præmio præferimus universitatem;

Legem quoque dicimus regis dignitatem

Regere; nam credimus esse legem lucem,

Sine qua concludimus deviare ducem. 850

Lex qua mundus regitur atque regna mundi

Ignea describitur; quod sensus profundi

Continet mysterium, lucet, urit, calet;

Lucens vetat devium, contra frigus valet,

Purgat et incinerat quædam, dura mollit,

Et quod crudum fuerat ignis coquit, tollit

Torporem, et alia multa facit bona.

Sancta lex similia p’rat (?) regi dona.

Istam sapientiam Salomon petivit;

Ejus amicitiam tota vi quæsivit. 860

Si rex hac caruerit lege, deviabit;

Si hanc non tenuerit, turpiter errabit;

Istius præsentia recte dat regnare,

Et ejus absentia regnum perturbare.

Ista lex sic loquitur, “per me regnant reges;

Per me jus ostenditur hiis qui condunt leges.”

Istam legem stabilem nullus rex mutabit;

Sed se variabilem per istam firmabit.

Si conformis fuerit huïc legi, stabit;

Et si disconvenerit isti, vacillabit. 870

Dicitur vulgariter, “ut rex vult, lex vadit:”

Veritas vult aliter, nam lex stat, rex cadit.

Veritas et caritas zelusque salutis

Legis est integritas, regimen virtutis;

Veritas, lux, caritas, calor, urit zelus;

Hæc legis varietas tollit omne scelus.

Quicquid rex statuerit, consonum sit istis;

Nam si secus fecerit, plebs reddetur tristis;

Confundetur populus, si vel veritate

Caret regis oculus, sive caritate 880

Principis cor careat, vel severitate

Zelum non adimpleat semper moderate.

Hiis tribus suppositis, quicquid placet regi

Fiat; sed oppositis, rex resistit legi.

Sed recalcitratio stimulo non nocet;

Pauli sic instructio de cœlo nos docet.

Sic exhæredatio nulla fiet regi,

Si fiat provisio concors justæ legi.

Nam dissimulatio legem non mutabit,

Cujus firma ratio sine fine stabit. 890

Unde si quid utile diu est dilatum,

Irreprehensibile sit sero perlatum.

Et rex nihil proprium præferat communi;

Quia salus omnium sibi cessit uni.

Non enim præponitur sibimet victurus;

Sed ut hic qui subditur populus securus.

Reges esse noveris nomen relativum;

Nomen quoque sciveris esse protectivum;

Unde sibi vivere soli non licebat,

Qui multos protegere vivendo delebat. 900

Qui vult sibi vivere, non debet præesse,

Sed seorsum degere, et ut solus esse.

Principis est gloria plurimos salvare;

Cum sua molestia multos relevare.

Non alleget igitur suimet profectum,

Sed in quibus creditur subditis prospectum.

Si regnum salvaverit, quod est regis fecit;

Quicquid secus egerit in ipso defecit.

Vera regis ratio ex hiis satis patet;

Quod vacantem proprio status regis latet. 910

Namque vera caritas est proprietati

Quasi contrarietas, et communitati

Fœdus insolubile, conflans velut ignis

Omne quod est habile, sicut fit in lignis

Quæ dant igni crescere patiens activo,

Subtracta decrescere modo recitivo.

Ergo si fervuerit princeps caritate,

Quantumcumque poterit de communitate,

Si sollicitabitur quod recte regatur,

Et nunquam lætabitur si destituatur, 920

Unde si dilexerit rex regni magnates,

Quamvis solus sciverit, quasi magnus vates,

Quicquid opus fuerit ad regnum regendum,

Quicquid se decuerit, quicquid faciendum,

Quod sane decreverit illis non celabit,

Præter quos non poterit id quod ordinabit

Ad effectum ducere; igitur tractabit

Cum suis, quæ facere per se [non] putabit.

Cur sua consilia non communicabit,

A quibus auxilia supplex postulabit? 930

Quicquid suos allicit ad benignitatem,

Et amicos efficit, fovet unitatem,

Regiam prudentiam decet indicare

Hiis qui suam gloriam possunt augmentare.

Dominus discipulis cuncta patefecit,

Dividens a servulis quos amicos fecit;

Atque quasi nescius a suis quæsivit

Quid sentirent sæpius, quod profecte scivit.

O! si Dei quærerent principes honorem,

Regna recte regerent, et præter errorem. 940

Si Dei notitiam principes haberent,

Omnibus justitiam suam exhiberent.

Ignorantes dominum, velut excæcati,

Quærunt laudes hominum, vanis delectati.

Qui se nescit regere, multos male reget;

Si quis vult inspicere Psalmos, idem leget.

Joseph ut se debuit principes docere,

Propter quod rex voluit ipsum præminere.

Et in innocentia cordis sui David,

Et intelligentia, Israelem pavit. 950

Ex prædictis omnibus poterit liquere,

Quod regem magnatibus incumbit videre

Quæ regni conveniant gubernationi,

Et pacis expediant conservationi;

Et quod rex indigenas sibi laterales

Habeat, non advenas, neque speciales,

Vel consiliarios vel regni majores,

Qui supplantant alios atque bonos mores.

Nam talis discordia paci novercatur,

Et inducit prælia, dolos machinatur. 960

Nam sicut invidia diaboli mortem

Induxit, sic odia separat cohortem.

Incolas in ordine suo rex tenebit,

Et hoc moderamine regnando gaudebit.

Si vero studuerit suos degradare,

Ordinem perverterit, frustra quæret quare

Sibi non obtemperant ita perturbati;

Immo si sic facerent essent insensati.

Translation.—Write quickly, O pen of one who, writing such things as follow, blesses and praises with his tongue, thee, O right hand of God the Father, Lord of virtues, who givest prosperity at thy nod to thine own, whenever it is thy will; let all those people now learn to put their trust in thee, whom they, who are now scattered, wished to destroy—they of whom the head is now taken, and the members are in captivity; the proud people is fallen; the faithful are filled with joy. Now England breathes in the hope of liberty; [10] to which (England) may the grace of God give prosperity! The English were despised like dogs; but now they have raised their head over their vanquished enemies.

In the year of grace one thousand two hundred and sixty-four, and on the Wednesday after the festival of St. Pancras, the army of the English bore the brunt of a great battle at the castle of Lewes: for reasoning yielded to rage, and life to the sword. They met on the fourteenth of May, [20] and began the battle of this terrible strife; which was fought in the county of Sussex, and in the bishopric of Chichester. The sword was powerful; many fell; truth prevailed; and the false men fled. For the Lord of valour resisted the perjured men, and defended those who were pure with the shield of truth. The sword without, and fear within, routed the former; the favour of heaven comforted very fully the latter. The solemnities of the victor, and the sacred crowns, [30] give testimony on this contest; since the Church honoured the said persons as saints, and victory crowned the true soldiers. The wisdom of God, which rules the whole world, performed miracles and made a joyful war; caused the strong to fly, and the valorous men to shut themselves up in a cloister, and in places of safety. Not in arms, but in the grace of Christianity, that is in the Church, remained the only refuge for those who were excommunicated; after deserting their horses [40] this counsel alone occurred to the vanquished. And her whom previously they had not hesitated to profane, her whom they ought to have honoured in the place of a mother—in her they seek refuge, though little worthy of it, and seek their defence in embracing the wood of salvation. Those whom prosperity caused to despise their mother, their wounds compelled to know their mother. When at Northampton they succeeded by treachery, the faithless children despised the church; with the sword they disturbed the bowels of the holy mother, and in their prosperity [50] did not merit a successful war. The mother then bore the injury patiently, as though heedless of it, but not letting it pass unmarked: she punishes this and other injuries which were afterwards added, for the madmen ravaged many churches; and the band of enraged men, which has now been thrown into confusion, mercilessly spoiled the monastry which is called Battle, of its goods, and thus they prepared a battle for themselves. The Cistercian monks of Robertsbridge [60] would not have been safe from the fury of the sword, unless they had given five hundred marks to the prince, which Edward ordered to be received, or they had perished. By these, and similar deeds, they merited to give way and succumb before their enemies. May the Lord bless Simon de Montfort! and also his sons and his army! who, exposing themselves magnanimously to death, fought valiantly, condoling the lamentable lot of the English who, trodden under foot in a manner scarcely to be described, [70] and almost deprived of all their liberties, nay, of their lives, had languished under hard rulers, like the people of Israel under Pharaoh, groaning under a tyrannical devastation. But God, seeing this suffering of the people, gives at last a new Matathias, and he with his sons, zealous after the zeal of the law, yields neither to the insults nor to the fury of the king.

They call Simon a seductor and a traitor; [80] but his deeds lay him open and prove him to be a true man. Traitors fall off in time of need; they who do not fly death, are those who stand for the truth. But says his insidious enemy now, whose evil eye is the disturber of peace, “If you praise the constancy and the fidelity, which does not fly the approach of death or punishment, they shall equally be called constant who, in the same manner, go to the combat fighting on the opposite side, in the same manner exposing themselves to the chance of war, [90] and subjecting themselves to a hard appellation.” But in our war in which we are now engaged, let us see what is the state of the case.

The earl had few men used to arms; the royal party was numerous, having assembled the disciplined and greatest warriors in England, such as were called the flower of the army of the kingdom; those who were prepared with arms from among the Londoners, were three hundred set before several thousands; whence they were contemptible to those, [100] and were detested by those who were experienced. Much of the earl’s army was raw; fresh in arms, they knew little of war. The tender youth, only now girt with a sword, stands in the morning in battle accustoming himself to arms; what wonder if such an unpractised tyro fear, and if the powerless lamb dread the wolf? Thus those who fight for England are inferior in military discipline, and they are much fewer than the strong men, who boasted in their own valour, [110] because they thought safely, and without danger, to swallow up, as it were, all whom the earl had to help him. Moreover, of those whom the earl had brought to the battle, and from whom he hoped for no little help, many soon withdrew from fear, and took to flight as though they were amazed; and of three parts, one deserted. The earl with a few faithful men never yielded. We may compare our battle with that of Gideon; [120] in both of which we see a few of the faithful conquer a great number who have no faith, and who trust in themselves like Lucifer did. God said, “If I should give the victory to the many, the fools will not give the glory to me, but to fools.” So if God had made the strong to conquer, the common people would have given the credit of it to the men, and not to God.

From these considerations it may be concluded that the warlike men did not fear God, wherefore they did nothing to prove their constancy or fidelity, [130] but they showed on the contrary their pride and cruelty; and wishing to confound those whom they despised, issuing forth boldly, they perished quickly. Exaltation of the heart brings on ruin, and humility merits to receive the divine grace; for he who does not trust in God, God overthrows his pride. We may bring forward as examples Aman and Mardocheus; we read that the former was arrogant, the latter a true Israelite; the gallows which Aman had prepared for Mardocheus, [140] in the morning the wretch bore it himself in order to be hanged upon it. The queen’s banquet blinded Aman, which he reputed as an extraordinary privilege; but his vain expectation is turned into confusion, when after the feast he is dragged to the gallows. Thus sorrow followed close upon joy, when it coupled death with the end of the feast. Very differently, it happens, to the Israelite, whom, by God’s will, the king honours. Golias is overthrown by the stroke of a little stone; [150] nothing profits him whom God pursues. Add to the various reasons already mentioned, that the stinking bawds collected with them so many strumpets, amounting to seven hundred, which they ought to have known to be fraudulent persons, disciples of Satan to deceive men’s souls, and matches to set them on fire, treacherous scissars to cut the hairs of Samson, inflicting the stains of base action on the wretches who are not strong in heart, [160] nor made firm by the grace of the divine gift, but animals dedicated to the lust of the flesh, by the uncleanness of which, reduced to the level of brutes, they ought not to be worthy of victory, who grovelled in the foul luxury of the flesh; they diminish their strength in the stews which they had made, therefore they were unworthy of the attributes of knights. A knight is girt on the thigh with a sword, that it may not be ungirt, and that vile deeds should be eschewed; the body of a new knight is accustomed to be bathed, [170] in order that he may learn to be clean from unlawful deeds. They who had newly married lawful wives, were not fit for the Lord’s warfare, as the battle of Gideon witnesseth, much less those whom the furnace of luxury hath injured with its fire. Why then should God help adulterers, and not rather strengthen clean children? Let them be clean who desire to conquer in fighting; they who vanquish their faults are in the way to triumph; first let them conquer their vices, [180] who wish with justice to have the victory over sinners. If the just man seems sometimes to be vanquished by the impious man, on the contrary he should be reputed the conqueror; for neither can the just man be vanquished, nor the unjust man conquer while he is the enemy of the law.

Listen to the equity of Earl Simon: when the royal party would be satisfied only with his head and his life, nor would allow his head to be redeemed, but would have it cut off, by whose confusion they hoped the body of the people should be confounded, [190] and the greatest part of the state brought into danger, so that the most grievous ruin would immediately follow;—may it be very long before this happen!—Stephen, by divine grace, bishop of Chichester, groaning deeply for the immense evils which were then impending, (without exaggeration,) the two parties being persuaded to treat of a peace, received this answer from the Earl: “Choose the best men, who have a lively faith, [200] who have read the decretals, or who have taught, in a becoming manner, theology and sacred wisdom, and who know how to rule the Christian faith, whatever they may resolve by sound doctrine, or whatever they may have the courage to decree, they shall find us ready to agree to what they shall dictate, in such a manner as that we may escape the stigma of perjury, and keep the league as children of God.” Hence it may easily be understood by those who swear, and show little reluctance to despise what they swear, receding quickly from it although they swear to what is right, [210] and not rendering whole what they have promised to God, with how much care they ought to keep their oath, when they see a man neither avoiding torment nor death on account of his oath, which was made not inconsiderately, but for the reformation of the fallen state of the English nation, which the fraud of an inveterate enemy had violated. Behold Simon, obedient, despises the loss of property, submitting himself to punishment, rather than desert the truth, proclaiming to all men openly by his deeds more than by his words, [220] that truth has nothing in common with falsehood. Woe to the perjured wretches who fear not God! denying him for the prospect of an earthly reward, or for fear of imprisonment or light punishment; the new leader of the journey teaches to bear all that the world may inflict on account of truth, for it is this which can give perfect liberty. For the Earl had first pledged his oath that whatever the zeal of the wise had provided for the reformation of the King’s honour, [230] and for the repression of wandering error, at Oxford, he would steadfastly keep it, and would not change the law then ordained, knowing that such canonical constitutions, and such catholic ordinances for the pacific conservation of the kingdom, on account of which he had before sustained no slight persecution, were not to be despised; and because he had sworn to hold them firmly, unless the most perfect doctors of the faith should say, [240] that the jurators might be absolved, who had before taken such oath, and that no further account was to be made of what they had sworn. Which, when the said bishop recited to the king, and perhaps the artificer of fraud was standing by, the voice of the crowd of arrogant courtiers was raised high, “See now the soldier is to give way to the sayings of clerks! The military order subjected to clerks is debased!” Thus the wisdom of the Earl was despised; and Edward is said to have answered thus: [250] “They shall have no peace unless they all put halters about their necks, and deliver themselves up to us to be hanged, or to be drawn.” What wonder if the Earl’s heart was then moved, when nothing but the pain of the stake was prepared for him? He offered what he ought to do, but he was not listened to; the king rejected measure, forgetting what was good for him. But, as the event of the matter next day taught him, the measure which he then refused, afterwards was not to be had. In the evening was derided the Earl’s devotion, [260] the shock of which, next day, was found to be victorious. This stone, long rejected from the doorway, was afterwards fitted to the two walls. The division of England was on the verge of desolation, but the corner-stone was there as a help to the division, the truly singular religion of Simon. The faith and fidelity of Simon alone becomes the security of the peace of all England; he humbles the rebellious, raises those who were in despair, [270] reconciling the kingdom, repressing the proud. And how does he repress them? certainly not by praising them; but he presses out the red juice in the hard conflict; for truth obliges him to fight, or to desert the truth, and prudently he chooses rather to devote his right hand to the truth, and by the rough way, which is joined to probity, by the harder and shorter way which is unpleasant to the proud, to obtain the reward which is given to those who use force, than to displease God by shrinking, [280] and to promote the designs of bad men by flight. For some men had studied to erase the name of the English, whom they had already begun to regard with hatred, against whom God opposed a medicine, since he did not desire their sudden ruin.

Hence let the English learn to call in strangers, if they wish to be exiled by strangers. For these when they wish to enlarge their own glory, and wish their own memory to stand always, study to associate with themselves very many of their own nation, [290] and by degrees to make them the principal nobles; and thus grows the confusion of the natives, with indignation and bitterness of heart, when the chief men of the kingdom feel themselves to be beaten down by those who make themselves their equals, taking from them the things which ought to appertain to them, growing by the things by which they used to grow. The King ought to honour with escheats and wards his own people, who can help him in various ways, who, by as much as they are more powerful by their own strength, [300] are so much the more secure in all cases. But those who have brought nothing, if they are enriched by his goods, if they are made great who were of no account, such men, when they begin to grow, always go on climbing till they have supplanted the natives; they study to avert the prince’s heart from his own people, that they may strip of glory those whose ruin they are seeking. And who could bear such things patiently? Therefore let England learn prudently to have a care, lest such a perplexity should happen any more, [310] lest such an adversity should fall upon the English. The Earl studied to obviate this, because it had gained too much head, like a great sea, that could not be dried by a small effort, but must be forded by a great assistance from God. Let strangers come to return quickly, like men of a moment, but not to remain. One of the two hands aids the other, neither of them bearing more really the grace which belongs to both; let it help, and not injure, by retaining its place. [320] Each thing would avail its own possessor if they come so; the Frenchman by doing good to the Englishman, and not seducing by a flattering face, nor the one withdrawing the goods of the other; but rather by sustaining his own portion of the burden. If his own interest had moved the Earl, he would neither have had any other zeal, nor would he have sought with all his power for the reformation of the kingdom, but he would have aimed at power, he would have sought his own promotion only, and made his first object the promotion of his friends, [330] and would have aimed at enriching his children, and would have neglected the weal of the community, and would have covered the poison of falsehood with the cloak of duplicity, and would thus have deserted the faith of Christianity, and would have subjected himself to the retribution of fearful punishment, nor would he have escaped the weight of the tempest, And who can believe that he would give himself to death, that he would sacrifice his friends, in order that he might thus raise himself high? If those who hunt after honour cover their object cunningly; [340] always meditating at the same time how they may avoid death; none love more the present life, none choose more eagerly a position devoid of danger. They who thirst after honours dissimulate their aim, they make themselves cautiously the reputation which they seek. Not so the venerable Simon de Montfort, who, like Christ, offers himself a sacrifice for many; Isaac does not die, although he is ready for death; it is the ram which is given to death, and Isaac receives honour. Neither fraud nor falsehood promoted the Earl, [350] but the Divine grace which knew those whom it would help. If you consider the time and the place of the conflict, you will find that they promised him a defeat rather than victory; but God provided that he should not succumb. He does not take them on a sudden by creeping stealthily by night; but he fights openly when day is come. So also the place was favourable to his enemies, that thus it might appear plainly to all to be the gift of God, that victory departed from him who put his trust in himself. [360] Hence let the military order, which praises the practice of the tournament, that so it may be made expert at fighting, learn how the party of the strong and skilful was here bruised by the arms of those who were feeble and unpractised: that he may confound the strong, God promotes the weak, comforts the feeble, lays prostrate the firm. Thus let no one now presume to trust in himself; but if he know how to place his hope in God, he may take up arms with constancy, nothing doubting, [370] since God is a help for those who are on the side of justice. Thus it was right that God should help the Earl, for without God he could not overcome the enemy. Of whom should I call him the enemy?—of the Earl alone? or should I recognise him as the enemy of the English and of the whole kingdom?—perhaps also of the Church, and therefore of God? And if so, how much grace ought he to have? He failed to deserve grace who trusted in himself, and he did not merit to be helped who did not fear God. Thus falls the boast of personal valour, [380] and so for evermore praised be the Lord God of vengeance! who gives aid to those who are destitute of force, to a few against many, crushing fools by the valour of the faithful; who sits on a throne in heaven above, and by his own strength treads upon the necks of the proud, bowing the great under the feet of the less. He has subdued two kings and the heirs of kings, whom he has made captives, because they were transgressors of the laws; and he has turned to shame the pomp of knighthood with its numerous retinue; [390] for the barons employed on the sons of pride the arms, which, in their zeal for justice, they had taken up in the cause of the kingdom, until victory was given them from heaven, with a great glory that was not expected. For the bow of the strong was then overcome, and the troop of the weak was established with strength; and we have said that it was done by heaven, lest any one should boast of it; let all the honour, on the contrary, be given to Christ, in whom we believe! For Christ at once commands, conquers, reigns! [400] Christ delivers his own, to whom he has given his promise. We pray God to grant that the minds of the conquerors may not attribute their success to themselves, and let what Paul says be observed by them, “He who would be joyful, let him be joyful in God.” If any one of us indulge in vain glory, may God be indulgent to him, and not angry! and may he make our party cautious in future; lest deeds be wanting, may they make themselves a wall! May the power of the Almighty perfect what it has begun, [410] and restore to its vigour the kingdom of the English people! that glory may be to himself, and peace to his elect, until they be in the country where he shall lead them. O Englishmen! read this concerning the battle of Lewes! by the influence of which you are saved from destruction: for if victory had gone over to those who are now vanquished, the memory of the English would have lain in disgrace.

To whom shall the noble Edward be compared? Perhaps he will be rightly called a leopard. If we divide the name, it becomes a lion and a pard:—[420] a lion, for we have seen that he was not slow to meet the strongest; fearing the attack of none; making a charge in the thick of the battle with the most unflinching bravery, and as though at his will, and wherever he went, as if, like Alexander, he would soon subdue the whole world, if the mutable wheel of Fortune would but stand still; in which, although he stand at the top, let him know that his fall is near at hand, and that he who reigns like a lord will not reign long. Which, in fact, has happened to the noble Edward, [430] who has manifestly fallen from his unstable position. He is a lion by his pride and by his ferocity; by his inconstancy and changeableness he is a pard, not holding steadily his word or his promise, and excusing himself with fair words. When he is in a difficulty, he promises just what you will; but as soon as he has escaped the danger, he forgets his promise. Witness Gloucester, where, as soon as he was out of the difficulty, he revoked immediately what he had sworn. The treachery or falseness by which he gains his ends [440] he calls prudence; the way by which he arrives at his object, be it ever so crooked, is reputed to be straight; when wrong serves his purpose, it is called right; he calls lawful whatever he wills, and thinks himself absolved from the law, as though he were greater than a king: for every king is ruled by the laws which he enacts. King Saul was deposed, because he brake the laws; and we read that David was punished, as soon as he did contrary to the law; hence, therefore, let him who reads know, that he cannot reign who does not keep the law; [450] nor ought they, whose province it is to do so, to elect such a man for their king. O Edward! thou desirest to be made a king without law; they would be truly miserable who were ruled by such a king! For what is more just than law, by which all things are ruled? and what more true than justice, by which all things are administered? If thou wouldest have a kingdom, reverence the laws; they are but rough roads, which are opposed to law, rough and crooked roads which will not lead thee to thy journey’s end; but if thou keepest the laws, they shine like a lamp. Therefore avoid and detest treachery; [460] labour after truth and hate falsehood. Although treachery may flourish, it cannot bear fruit; the Psalm may teach thee this; God says to the faithful of the earth, “They are my eyes, and it is my will that they shall sit with me at the end of time.” Observe how little thou hast gained by thy treachery at Northampton; the heat of deceit does not warm like fire. If you will compare treachery to fire, feed studiously such fire with straw, which ceases to glow as soon as it is burnt up, [470] and is consumed almost as soon as kindled. So passeth away vanity which hath no roots; rooted truth is not subject to vicissitudes: therefore let that alone be permitted thee which is lawful, and let not what the double man shall say please thee. A prince shall project things which are worthy of a prince: therefore take the law under thy protection, which will make thee worthy to govern many, worthy of the principality, of the aid of many, and of a numerous retinue. And why lovest thou not those of whom thou desirest to be king? [480] Thou choosest not to profit them, but only to govern. He who seeks only his own glory, everything that he governs is ruined by his pride. Thus recently the whole which thou governest has been ruined; the glory which alone thou soughtest is past.

Lo! we are touching the root of the perturbation of the kingdom of which we are speaking, and of the dissension of the parties who fought the said battle. The objects at which these two parties aimed were different. The king, with his, wished thus to be free: [490] and so [it was urged on his side] he ought to be; and he must cease to be king, deprived of the rights of a king, unless he could do whatever he pleased; it was no part of the duty of the magnates of the kingdom to determine whom he should prefer to his earldoms, or on whom he should confer the custody of castles, or whom he would have to administer justice to the people, and to be chancellor and treasurer of the kingdom. He would have every one at his own will, and counsellors from whatever nation he chose, [500] and all ministers at his own discretion; while the barons of England are not to interfere with the king’s actions, the command of the prince having the force of law, and what he may dictate binding upon every body at his pleasure. For every earl also is thus his own master, giving to every one of his own men both as much as he will, and to whom he will; he commits castles, lands, revenues, to whom he will; and although he be a subject, the king permits it all. Which, if he do well, is profitable to the doer; [510] if not, he must himself see to it; the king will not hinder him from injuring himself. Why is the prince worse in condition, when the affairs of the baron, the knight, and the freeman, are thus managed? Therefore they aim at making the king a slave, who wish to diminish his power, to take away his dignity of prince; they wish by sedition to reduce captive into guardianship and subjection the royal power, and to disinherit the king, [520] that he shall be unable to reign so fully as hitherto have done the kings who preceded him, who were in no respect subjected to their people, but administered their own affairs at their will, and conferred what they had to confer according to their own pleasure. This is the King’s argument, which has an appearance of fairness, and this is alleged in defence of the right of the kingdom.

But now let my pen turn to the other side:—let me describe the object at which the barons aim; and when both sides have been heard, let the arguments be compared, [530] and then let us come to a final judgment, so that it may be clear which side is the truest. The people is more prone to obey the truer party. Let therefore the party of the barons speak for itself, and proclaim in order by what zeal it is led. Which party in the first place protests openly, that it has no designs against the kingly honour; nay, it seeks the contrary, and studies to reform and magnify the kingly condition; just as if the kingdom were ravaged by enemies, [540] then it would not be reformed without the barons, who would be the capable and proper persons for this purpose; and should any one then hang back, the law would punish him as one guilty of perjury, a traitor to the king, who owes to his lord, when he is in danger, all the aid he can give to support the king’s honour, when the kingdom is as it were nigh its end by devastation.

The adversaries of the king are enemies who make war upon him, and counsellors who flatter the king, who seduce their prince with deceitful words, [550] and who lead him into error by their double tongues: these are adversaries worse than those who are perverse; it is these who pretend to be good whilst they are seducers, and procurers of their own advancement; they deceive the incautious, whom they render less on their guard by means of things that please them, whereby they are not provided against, but are considered as prudent advisers. Such men can deceive more than those who act openly, as they are able to make an outward appearance of being not hostile. What if such wretches, and such liars, [560] should haunt the prince, capable of all malice, of fraud, of falsehood, excited by the spurs of envy, should seek to do that extreme wickedness, by which they should sacrifice the privileges of the kingdom to their own ostentation, that they should contrive all kinds of hard reasons, which by degrees should confound the commonalty, should bruise and impoverish the mass of the people, and should subvert and infatuate the kingdom, so that no one could obtain justice, [570] except he who would encourage the pride of such men as these by large supplies of money; who could submit to the establishment of such an injury? And if such, by their conduct, should change the state of the kingdom; if they should banish justice to put injustice in its place; if they should call in strangers and trample upon the natives; and if they should subdue the kingdom to foreigners; if they should not care for the magnates and nobles of the land, and should place contemptible persons over them; and if they should overthrow and humiliate the great; [580] if they should pervert and turn upside-down the order of things; if they should leave the measures that are best, to advance those which are worst;—do not those who act thus devastate the kingdom? although they do not make war upon it with arms from abroad, yet they fight with diabolical arms, and they violate, in a lamentable manner, the constitution of the kingdom; although not in the same manner [as a foreign enemy], yet they do no less damage. Whether the king, seduced to give his consent, not perceiving the design, should approve measures so destructive to the kingdom; [590] or whether the king should follow such an injurious course with an ill design of setting his own power above the laws, abusing his strength to please his own will; if thus or otherwise the kingdom be wasted, or the kingdom be finally left destitute, then the magnates of the kingdom are bound to look to it, that the land be purged of all errors. To whom if such a purgation of errors belongs, if such a provision belongs to them to regulate customs, how can it otherwise than appertain to them [600] to look out that no evil may happen which would be injurious? Which, after it has happened, they ought to remove, lest by a sudden occurrence it give those who do not provide against it cause to grieve. Thus, in order that no one of the aforesaid things may happen, which may hinder the form of peace and good customs, but that the zeal of the experienced men may find what is most expedient for the utility of the many, why is a reform not admitted, with which no corruption shall be mixed? For the king’s clemency and the king’s majesty [610] ought to approve the endeavours, which so amend grievous laws that they be milder, and that they be, while less onerous, more pleasing to God. For the oppression of the commons pleaseth not God, but rather the commiseration whereby the commons may have time to think upon God. Pharaoh, who so afflicted the people of God, that they could with difficulty repair to the oracle which he had appointed to Moses, was afterwards so punished, that he was obliged to dismiss Israel against his will; and when he thought to catch them after they were dismissed, [620] he was drowned whilst he thought to run through the deep. Solomon was unwilling to bruise Israel, nor would he reduce to servitude any one of the race; because he knew that it was God’s people over whom he reigned; and he feared to hurt the imprint of God; and he praises mercy more than judgment, and the peace of a true father more than execution.

Since it is clear that the barons have a right of doing all this, it remains to answer the king’s arguments. The king wishes to be free by the removal of his guardians, [630] and he will not be subject to his inferiors, but be placed over them; he will command his subjects and not be commanded; he will be humiliated neither to himself nor to those who are his officers. For the officers are not set over the king; but on the contrary they are rather the noble men who support the law. Otherwise there would not be one king of one state, (?) but they would reign equally to whom the king was subject. Yet this inconvenience also, though it seem so great, with the assistance of God, is easily solved: for we believe that God wills truth, [640] through whom we dissolve this doubt as follows. He is said to be, and is in truth, one king alone, by whom the universe is ruled in pure majesty; who neither wants help whereby he may reign, nor even counsel, in as much as he cannot err. Therefore, all-powerful and all-knowing, he excels in infinite glory all those to whom he has given to rule and, as it were, to reign under him over his people, who may fail, and who may err, and who cannot avail by their own independent strength, [650] and vanquish their enemies by their own valour, nor govern kingdoms by their own wisdom, but in an evil manner wander in the track of error. They want help which should assist them, and counsel which should set them right. Says the king, “I agree to thy reasoning; but the choice of these must be left to my option; I will associate with myself whom I will, by whose support I will govern all things; and if my ministers should be insufficient, [660] if they want sense or power, or if they harbour evil designs, or are not faithful, but are perhaps traitors, I desire that you will explain, why I ought to be confined to certain persons, when I might succeed in obtaining better assistance?” The reason of this is quickly declared, if it be considered what the constraint of the king is: all constraint does not deprive of liberty, nor does every restriction take away power. Princes desire free power; [670] those who reign decline miserable servitude. To what will a free law bind kings?—to prevent them from being stained by an adulterated law. And this constraint is not one of slavery, but is rather an enlarging of the kingly faculty. Thus the king’s child is kept from being hurt; yet he is not made a slave when he is thus restricted. Nay, the very angels are restricted in this manner, who are confirmed from becoming apostates. For, that the Author of all things cannot err, [680] that He who is the beginning of all things cannot sin, is not impotence, but it is the highest degree of power, the great glory of God and his great majesty. Thus, he who may fall, if he be kept from falling, so that he may live free from danger, he reaps advantage from such keeping, nor is such a support slavery, but it is the safeguard of virtue. Therefore that there be permitted to a king all that is good, but that he dare not do evil,—this is God’s gift. They who keep the king from sinning when he is tempted, [690] they serve the king, to whom he should be grateful, that they deliver him from being made a slave; so that those by whom he is led do not overcome him. But he who should be in truth a king, he is truly free if he rule rightly himself and the kingdom; let him know that all things are permitted him which are in ruling convenient to the kingdom, but not such as destroy it. It is one thing to rule according to a king’s duty, and another to destroy by resisting the law. The law receives its name from binding (a ligando), [700] which is so perfectly said of liberty, whereby it is served gratefully. (?)

Let every king bear in mind that he is a servant of God; let him love that only which is pleasing to Him; and let him seek His glory in reigning, not his own pride in despising his peers. A king who wishes his subject kingdom to yield obedience to him, let him render his duty to God in other things truly; let him know that obedience is not owing to him who denies the service in which he is bound to God. Again, let him know that the people is not his but God’s; [710] and that it is profitable to him as his help: and that he who for a short period is placed over the people, soon, closed in marble, will be buried in the earth. Towards them let him make himself as one of them; let him regard David joining the dance of the maids. I wish one similar to David may succeed the king—a prudent and humble man, who would not injure his people; in truth, who would not hurt the people which is subjected to him, but would exhibit towards them a loving regard, and would aim at their prosperity; [720] the commons would not allow him to suffer wrong. It is hard to love one who does not love us; it is hard not to despise one who despises us; it is hard not to resist one who ruins us; we naturally applaud him who favours us. It is not the part of a prince to bruise, but to protect; neither is it the part of a prince to oppress, but rather to deserve the favour of his people by numerous benefits conferred upon them, as Christ by his grace has deserved the love of all. If a prince love his subjects, he will necessarily be repaid with love; [730] if he reign justly, he will of a necessity be honoured; if the prince err, he ought to be recalled by those whom his unjust denial may have grieved, unless he be willing to be corrected; if he is willing to make amends, he ought to be both raised up and aided by these same persons. Let a prince maintain such a rule of reigning, that it may never be necessary for him to avoid depending on his own people. The ignorant princes who confound their subjects, will find that those who are unconquered will not thus be tamed. If a prince should think [740] that he alone has more truth, more knowledge, and more intelligence than the whole people, that he abounds more in grace and the gifts of God, if it be not presumption, but it be truly so, then his instruction will visit the true hearts of his subjects with light, and will instruct his people with moderation.

We instance Moses, David, Samuel—each of whom we know to have been a faithful prince; who suffered many things from their subjects, [750] and yet for their deserts they did not cast them off, nor set strangers over them, but governed by means of those who were their own people. “I will place thee over a greater people; and I will slay this people” saith God. “I had rather die, than this people should perish,” answered kind Moses, who was worthy to govern. And thus a wise prince will never reject his people, but an unwise one will disturb the kingdom. Wherefore, if a king is less wise than he ought to be, [760] what advantage will the kingdom gain by his reign? Is he to seek by his own opinion on whom he should depend to have his failing supplied? If he alone choose, he will be easily deceived, who is not capable of knowing who will be useful. Therefore let the community of the kingdom advise; and let it be known what the generality thinks, to whom their own laws are best known. Nor are all those of the country so uninstructed, as not to know better than strangers the customs of their own kingdom, [770] which have been bequeathed from father to son. They who are ruled by the laws, know those laws best; they who experience them are best acquainted with them; and since it is their own affairs which are at stake, they will take more care, and will act with an eye to their own peace. They who want experience can know little; they will profit little the kingdom who are not stedfast. Hence it may be collected, that it concerns the community to see what sort of men ought justly to be chosen for the utility of the kingdom; they who are willing and know how, [780] and are able to profit it, such should be made the councillors and coadjutors of the king; to whom are known the various customs of their country; who feel that they suffer themselves when the kingdom suffers; and who guard the kingdom, lest, if hurt be done to the whole, the parts have reason to grieve while they suffer along with it; which rejoice, when it has cause to rejoice, if they love it. Let us call attention to the noble judgment of King Solomon: she who did not feel horror at the cruelty of dividing the infant, [790] because she did not feel for it, and wanted maternal love, shewed, as the king testified, that she was not its mother: therefore let a prince seek such [councillors] as may condole with the community, who have a motherly fear lest the kingdom should undergo any sufferings. But if any one be not moved by the ruin of the many—if he alone obtain what pleas he will—he is not fitted to rule over the many, since he is entirely devoted to his own interest, and to none other. A man who feels for others, is agreeable to the community; [800] but a man who does not feel for others, who possesses a hard heart, cares not if misfortunes fall upon the many—such walls are no defence against misfortunes. Therefore, if the king has not wisdom to choose by himself those who are capable of advising him, it is clear, from what has been said, what ought then to be done. For it is a thing which concerns the community to see that miserable wretches be not made the leaders of the royal dignity, but the best and chosen men, and the most approved that can be found. For since the governance of the kingdom is either the safety or perdition of all, [810] it is of great consequence who they are that have the custody of the kingdom; just as it is in a ship; all things are thrown into confusion if unskilful people guide it; if any one of the passengers belonging to it who is placed in the ship abuse the rudder, it matters not whether the ship be governed prosperously or not. So those who ought to rule the kingdom, let the care be given to them, if any one of the kingdom does not govern himself rightly; he goes on a wrong path which perhaps he has himself chosen. The affairs of the generality are best managed [820] if the kingdom is directed in the way of truth. And, moreover, if the subjects labour to dissipate their property, those who are set over them may restrain their folly and temerity, lest by the presumption and imbecility of fools, the power of the kingdom be weakened, and courage be given to enemies against the kingdom. For whatever member of the body be destroyed, the strength of the body is diminished thereby. So if it be allowed even that men may abuse what belongs to themselves, [830] when it be injurious to the kingdom, many immediately after following also the injurious liberty, will so multiply the wildness of error, that they will ruin the whole. Nor ought it properly to be named liberty, which permits fools to govern unwisely; but liberty is limited by the bounds of the law; and when those bounds are despised, it should be reputed as error. Otherwise you will call a raving madman free, although he be at enmity with everything like prosperity. Therefore the king’s argument concerning his subjects, [840] who are ruled at their own choice by whom they will, is by this sufficiently answered and overthrown; since every one who is subject, is ruled by one who is greater. Because we say that no man is permitted all that he will, but that every one has a lord who may correct him when erring, and aid him when doing well, and sometimes raises him up when he is falling. We give the first place to the community: we say also that the law rules over the king’s dignity; for we believe that the law is the light, [850] without which we conclude that he who rules will wander from the right path. The law whereby is ruled the world and the kingdoms of the world, is described as being of fire; which contains a mystery of deep meaning: it shines, burns, warms; shining, it hinders the wanderer from quitting his right path; it avails against the cold; it purges and burns to cinders some things; it softens what is hard, and what had been raw the fire cooks; it takes away numbness, and it does many other good things. The sacred law is equally serviceable to the king. Solomon asked for this wisdom; [860] its friendship he sought with all his might. If the king want this law, he will wander from the right track; if he does not hold it, he will err foully; its presence gives the power of reigning rightly, and its absence overturns the kingdom. This law speaks thus, “Kings reign through me; through me justice is shown to those who make laws.” No king shall alter this firm law; but by it he shall make himself stable when he is variable. If he conform to this law, he will stand; [870] and if he disagree with it, he will waver. It is said commonly, “As the king wills, so goes the law:” but the truth is otherwise, for the law stands, but the king falls. Truth and charity and the zeal of salvation, this is the integrity of the law, the regimen of virtue; truth, light, charity, warmth, zeal burns; (?) this variety of the law takes away all crime. Whatever the king may ordain, let it be consonant to these; for if it be otherwise, the commonalty will be made sorrowful; the people will be confounded, if either the king’s eye want truth, [880] or the prince’s heart want charity, or he do not always moderately fulfil his zeal with severity.

These three things being supposed, whatever pleases the king may be done; but by their opposites the king resists the law. However, kicking against it does not hurt the prick; thus the instruction which was sent from heaven to Paul teaches us. Thus the king is deprived of no inherited right, if there be made a provision in concordance with just law. For dissimulation shall not change the law, [890] whose stable reason will stand without end. Wherefore if anything that is useful has been long put off, it is not to be reprehended when adopted late. And let the king never set his private interest before that of the community; as if the salvation of all yields to him alone. For he is not set over them in order to live for himself; but that his people who is subject to him may be in safety. You must know that the name of king is relative; you should know also that the name is protective; wherefore he cannot live for himself alone [900] who ought by his life to protect many. He who will live for himself, ought not to be set over others, but to live separately from them that he may be alone. It is the glory of a prince to save very many; to inconvenience himself in order to raise many up. Let him not therefore allege his own profit, but have regard to his subjects in whom he is trusted. (?) If he work the salvation of the kingdom, he acts the part of a king; whatever he does contrary to this, he fails in that point. The true province of a king is sufficiently clear from these arguments; [910] that he is ignorant of the condition of a king who is occupied only with his own affairs. For true charity is as it were contrary to self-interest, and an indissoluble league to the community, melting like fire everything that is near, as is done with wood which they subject to the active fire to increase it, and then in return it is taken away to decrease it. Therefore if the prince will be warm with charity as much as possible towards the community, if he shall be solicitous to govern it well, [920] and shall never be rejoiced at its destruction; wherefore if the king will love the magnates of the kingdom, although he should know alone, like a great prophet, whatever is needful for the ruling of the kingdom, whatever is becoming in him, whatever ought to be done, truly he will not conceal what he will decree from those without whom he cannot effect that which he will ordain. He will therefore treat with his people about bringing into effect the things which he will not think of doing by himself. Why will he not communicate his councils [930] to those whose aid he will ask supplicatingly? Whatever draws his people to benignity, and makes friends and cherishes unity, it is fit the royal prudence should indicate it to those who can augment his glory. Our Lord laid open all things to his disciples, dividing from the servants those whom he made his friends; and as though he were ignorant, he often inquired of his people what was their opinion on matters which he knew perfectly. Oh! if princes sought the honour of God, [940] they would rule their kingdoms rightly, and without error. If princes had the knowledge of God, they would exhibit their justice to all. Ignorant of the Lord, as though they were blind, they seek the praises of men, delighted only with vanity. He who does not know how to rule himself, will be a bad ruler over others; if any one will look at the Psalms, he will read the same. Joseph as he ought to teach princes, (?) on which account the king willed that he should be set over others. And David in the innocence of his heart [950] and by his intelligence fed Israel. From all that has been said, it may appear evident, that it becomes a king to see together with his nobles what things are convenient for the government of the kingdom, and what are expedient for the preservation of peace; and that the king have natives for his companions, not foreigners, nor favourites, for his councillors or for the great nobles of the kingdom, who supplant others and abolish good customs. For such discord is a step-mother to peace, [960] and produces battles, and plots treason. For as the envy of the devil introduced death, so hatred separates the troop. The king shall hold the natives in their rank, and by this governance he will have joy in reigning. But if he study to degrade his own people, if he pervert their rank, it is in vain for him to ask why thus deranged they do not obey him; in fact they would be fools if they did.

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The following Song was written when jealousies and dissensions were rife among the barons, and some of them began to desert the popular cause. It is preserved by William de Rishanger, a contemporary, in his history of the barons’ wars. The defection of the Earl of Gloucester contributed not a little to the disastrous termination of the career of Simon de Montfort at the battle of Evesham.

SONG UPON THE DIVISIONS AMONG THE BARONS.

[MS. Cotton. Claudius D. VI. fol. 101 v^o, latter part of 13th cent.]

Plange plorans, Anglia, plena jam dolore;

Tristis vides tristia, languens cum mærore;

Nisi te respiciat Christus suo more,

Eris vile canticum hostium in ore.

Pepigerunt plurimi salvam te salvare,

Sed jam nimis necgligunt pactum procurare:

Nam se quidam retrahunt, qui possunt juvare;

Quidam subterfugium quærunt ultra mare.

Hinc est quod incipiunt cæteri certare,

Et in partes varias animos mutare;

Dum quæ sic dissentiunt nolunt concordare,

Sed incepta nequeunt bene terminare.

Sic respublica perit, terra desolatur;

Invalescit extera gens et sublimatur;

Vilescit vir incola et subpeditatur:

Sustinet injurias, non est qui loquatur.

Tam miles quam clericus ambo fiunt muti;

Facti sunt extranei loquaces astuti:

Inter centum Anglicos non sunt duo tuti;

Planctum et obprobrium jam sunt assecuti.

O Comes Gloverniæ, comple quod cœpisti;

Nisi claudas congrue, multos decepisti.

Age nunc viriliter sicut promisisti,

Causam fove fortitur cujus fons fuisti.

Si, quod absit! subtrahas manum et levamen,

Terræ fraudem faciens, inferens gravamen:

Maledictus maneat! fiat! fiat! Amen.

Comes Simon de Muntford, vir potens et fortis,

Pugna nunc pro patria, sisque dux cohortis:

Non te minæ terreant neque timor mortis,

Rem defende publicam resque tuæ sortis.

O tu, Comes le Bygot, pactum serva sanum:

Cum sis miles strenuus, nunc exerce manum.

Totam turbat modica terra[m] turba canum;

Exeat aut pereat genus tam prophanum.

O vos magni proceres, qui vos obligastis

Observare firmiter illud quod jurastis;

Terræ si sit utile quod excogitastis,

Juvet illud citius id quod ordinastis.

Si velletis prosequi quod jam inchoastis,

Consequi poteritis quod desiderastis;

Nisi finem capiat quod diu tractastis,

Vere dici poterit vane laborastis.

Honor nobis maximus erit laus et digna,

Si respondet Anglia vestra gerens signa;

Quam ut cito liberet a peste maligna,

Adjuvet nunc Domini pietas benigna!

Translation.—Lament with weeping, O England, full as thou now art with matter of grief, in sadness thou beholdest sorrowful things, languishing in sorrow; unless Christ in his manner have regard to thee, thou wilt be but a vile song in the mouth of thine enemies.—Very many have pledged themselves to preserve thee in safety, but now they have too much neglected their promise: for many desert, who have it in their power to help; and some slink away over the sea.—Hence the rest begin to quarrel, and to go over to different sides; while things which disagree in this manner will not be reconciled, and what has been begun is left unfinished.—Thus the state is ruined, and the land is laid waste; the stranger is strengthened and raised up; the native is debased and trodden under foot: while he sustains injuries, there is no one who will speak out.—The knight as well as the clergy are both become mute; the strangers are become talkative and cunning: among a hundred Englishmen there are not two who are safe; the lot which they have obtained is lamentation and disgrace.—O Earl of Gloucester, complete what thou hast commenced; unless thou endest as thou hast begun, thou hast deceived many. Act now courageously as thou hast promised, cherish steadily the cause of which thou wast the fountain.—If, from which God preserve us! thou withdrawest thy hand and support, acting treacherously towards the land, and inflicting a great injury upon it.... May he be cursed for ever! be it so! be it so! amen.—Earl Simon de Montfort, a strong man and a bold, fight now for thy country, and be the leader of the band; neither let threats scare thee, nor the fear of death; defend the state and thy own fortune.—O thou, Earl Bigot, keep unbroken thine agreement: as thou art a brave knight, now use thy hand; a small troop of dogs puts in commotion the whole land: may such a cursed race depart or perish!—O you, great nobles, who bound yourselves to observe firmly the oath which you took; if what you imagined be profitable to the land, let that which you have ordained aid it immediately.—If you will carry to an end that which you have begun, you may obtain that which you desired; unless the thing which you have long had in hand be perfected, it may be truly said that you have laboured in vain.—It will be the highest honour to you and a worthy praise, if England answer by carrying your standards; which that he may soon deliver from the malignant plague, may the benignant piety of the Lord now help it!

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The triumph of the barons did not last long. In the battle of Evesham, fought on the fourth of August in the year after that of Lewes, their great leader fell, with the best of his followers. The fate of Simon de Montfort was a subject of general lamentation; and long afterwards he was revered as a saint and martyr, and was even believed to work miracles. In MS. Cotton. Vespas. A. VI. will be found a collection of these miracles, and a form of prayers to be said in his honour, among which is the following hymn (fol. 189, r^o).

Salve, Symon Montis-Fortis,

Totius flos militiæ,

Duras pœnas passus mortis,

Protector gentis Angliæ.

Sunt de sanctis inaudita,

Cunctis passis in hac vita,

Quemquam passum talia;

Manus, pedes amputari,

Caput, corpus vulnerari,

Abscidi virilia.

Sis pro nobis intercessor

Apud Deum, qui defensor

In terris extiteras.

The whole was preceded by a life of Simon de Montfort, occupying two pages of the manuscript, but which some hostile hand has carefully erased. The following song was evidently written immediately after the battle of Evesham.

THE LAMENT OF SIMON DE MONTFORT.

[MS. Harl. 2253, fol. 59 r^o, early in 14th cent.]

Chaunter m’estoit, mon cuer le voit, en un dure langage,

Tut en ploraunt fust fet le chaunt de nostre duz baronage,

Que pur la pees, si loynz après se lesserent detrere,

Lur cors trencher, e demenbrer, pur salver Engleterre.

Ore est ocys la flur de pris, qe taunt savoit de guere,

Ly quens Montfort, sa dure mort molt enplorra la terre.

Si com je qui, par un mardi, firent la bataile,

Tot à cheval, fust le mal, sauntz nulle pedaile;

Tresmalement y ferirent de le espie forbie,

Qe la part sire Edward conquist la mestrie.

Ore est ocis, etc.

Mès par sa mort, le cuens Mountfort conquist la victorie,

Come ly martyr de Caunterbyr, finist sa vie;

Ne voleit pas li bon Thomas qe perist seinte Eglise,

Ly cuens auxi se combati, e morust sauntz feyntise.

Ore est ocys, etc.

Sire Hue le fer, ly Despencer, tresnoble justice,

Ore est à tort lyvré à mort, à trop male guise.

Sire Henri, pur veir le dy, fitz le cuens de Leycestre,

Autres assez, come vus orrez, par le cuens de Gloucestre.

Ore est ocis, etc.

Qe voleint moryr, e mentenir la pees e la dreyture,

Le seint martir lur fra joyr sa conscience pure,

Qe velt moryr e sustenir les honmes de la terre,

Son bon desir acomplir, quar bien le quidom fere.

Ore est, etc.

Près de son cors, le bon tresors, une heyre troverent,

Les faus ribaus, tant furent maus, e ceux qe le tuerent;

Molt fust pyr, qe demenbryr firent le prodhonme,

Qe de guerrer e fei tener si bien savoit la sonme.

Ore est, etc.

Priez touz, mes amis douz, le fitz Seinte Marie

Qe l’enfant, her puissant, meigne en bone vie;

Ne vueil nomer li escoler, ne vueil qe l’em die,

Mès pur l’amour le salveour, priez pur la clergie.

Ore est ocys la flur de pris, qe tant savoit de guere,

Ly quens Montfort, sa dure mort molt enplurra la terre.

Ne say trover rien qu’il firent bien, ne baroun ne counte,

Les chivalers e esquiers touz sunt mys à hounte,

Pur lur lealté e verité, que tut est anentie;

Le losenger purra reigner, le fol pur sa folie.

Ore est ocis, etc.

Sire Simoun, ly prodhom, e sa compagnie,

En joie vont en ciel amount, en pardurable vie.

Mès Jhesu Crist, qe en croyz se mist, Dieu en prenge cure,

Qe sunt remis, e detenuz en prisone dure.

Ore est ocys, etc.

Translation.—I am driven to sing, my heart wills it, in sorrowful language,—all with tears was made the song concerning our gentle barons,—who for the peace so long after suffered themselves to be destroyed,—their bodies to be cut and dismembered, to save England.—Now is slain the precious flower, who knew so much of war, the Earl Montfort, his hard death the land will deeply lament.

As I believe, it was on a Tuesday, that they fought the battle,—all on horse, which was the misfortune, without any foot,—very ill they there struck with the burnished sword,—that the party of Sir Edward gained the mastery. Now is slain, etc.

But by his death the Earl Montfort gained the victory,—like the martyr of Canterbury he finished his life;—the good Thomas would not suffer holy Church to perish,—the Earl fought in a similar cause, and died without flinching.—Now is slain, &c.

Sir Hugh the bold, the Despencer, a very noble justice,—is now wrongfully delivered to death, in too shameful a manner.—Sir Henry, in truth I say it, the son of the Earl of Leicester,—enough of others, as you will hear, by the Earl of Gloucester.—Now is slain, etc.

Because they were willing to die, and to maintain peace and right,—the holy martyr will cause them to enjoy his pure conscience,—who is willing to die and to sustain the men of the land,—to accomplish his good desire, for we think he does well.—Now is, etc.

Near his body, the good treasure, an heir they found,—the false ribalds, they were so wicked, and those who slew him;—what was much worse, they caused the worthy man to be dismembered,—who knew so well the art of fighting and of holding faith.—Now is, etc.

Pray all, my sweet friends, to the Son of St. Mary,—that he lead in good life the infant, the powerful heir;—I will not name the scholar, I do not desire any one to mention him,—but for the love of the Saviour, pray for the clergy.—Now is slain, etc.

I cannot find any thing that they did well, neither baron nor earl,—the knights and the esquires are all disgraced,—on account of their loyalty and truth, which is entirely annihilated;—the deceitful man may reign, the fool for his folly.—Now is slain, etc.

Sir Simon, the worthy man, and his company,—are gone in joy up to heaven, in everlasting life.—But Jesus Christ, who placed himself on the cross, and God have care of those,—who are remitted, and detained in hard prison.—Now is slain, etc.

---

[REIGN OF EDWARD I. 1272–1307.]

Henry outlived the defeat of the barons but a very few years. He died on the sixteenth of November, 1272, while his son Edward was occupied in warring against the infidels in the East. Edward was proclaimed king, while absent. A new monarch is generally welcomed with songs of praise; and the following, evidently the work of a zealous opponent of the popular party, seems to have been written before his arrival in England.

THE PRAISE OF THE YOUNG EDWARD.

[MS. Cotton. Vespas. B. XIII. fol. 130 v^o, 13th cent.]

Eaduuardi regis Anglorum me pepulere

Florida gesta loqui, pudor est famosa tacere.

Hic tener ætate dum vixerat in juvenili,

Conflictus plures superavit corde virili.

Belliger ut pardus, fragrans dulcedine nardus,

Dum viget Eaduuardus, rutilat novus ecce Ricardus.

Sic gemino flore Britones titulantur honore,

Bella per Eaduuardi similis et probitate Ricardi.

Belligeri juvenis laudabat Gallia mores;

Ampla manus dantis meritos congessit honores.

Invida gens cupiens meritas extinguere laudes,

Excogitando novas cœpit contexere fraudes:

Anglorum proceres legem fingendo novellam,

Ubere de regno terram fecere misellam.

Rex pater et patruus cum bina prole reguntur

Per sibi subjectos, ex quo mala multa sequuntur.

Degener Anglorum gens, quæ servire solebat,

Ordine mutato regem cum prole regebat.

Conjurat populus fruiturus lege novella;

Fædere mox rupto consurgunt horrida bella.

Dum Leycestrensem comitem sibi plebs sociavit,

Intestina sibi dispendia concumulavit.

In regem proprium gens irruit impia, natum

Cum patre et patruo captivat, mox dominatum

Consequitur, gaudent victores, corda tumescunt.

Effugit Eaduardus, statim nova prælia crescunt.

Convocat auxilium, solidantur fædera, crevit

Turma ducis, delusa cohors sua crimina flevit.

Concurrunt partes, quatiuntur tela, vigore

/Militis Eaduuardi madidantur rura cruore.

Occidit ense Comes, proceres mucrone necantur;

Sic vincunt victi, victores exsuperantur.

Regno pene suo spoliatus seditione,

Victrices turmas miro superavit agone.

Ad regimen regni patrem stirps clara revexit,

Nequiter ablatum quod longo tempore rexit.

Plebs devicta fremit, iterumque potentibus unit

Turmas belligeras, dape, telis, oppida munit.

Insula per proceres vastatur mox Eliensis.

Urbs regni nostri capitanea Londoniensis

Per quosdam capitur, quatitur certamine diro;

Sed debellantur hæc omnia robore miro.

Pax optata redit, conduntur tela, nitescunt

Nubila quæ fuerant, Anglorum gaudia crescunt.

Impiger Eaduuardus devitans otia, signum

Mox crucis assumpsit, cupiens exsolvere dignum

Obsequium Christo, qui se liberavit ab isto

Turbine bellorum; sequitur pia turba virorum.

Francorum regis germanus rex Siculorum

Innumeros populos ad regnum Tuniciorum

Duxerat, ut vetitum potuit rehabere tributum,

Agminibus cunctis dicens iter hoc fore tutum

In terram sanctam; cruce plebs signata dolebat,

Dum sua vota male jam commutata videbat.

Eaduuardus sequitur credens bellare potenter

Cum Sarracenis; gentilis rex sapienter

Prælia devitans, solvit quodcunque petebat.

Rex Lodowicus obit cum prima prole, dolebat

Gallia, rex Karolus remeat, turmasque reduxit,

Anglos cum Siculis, Britonum plebs anxia luxit.

Vota crucis Christi Siculorum rex male frangit,

Et sua delusus populus discrimina plangit.

Applicat in portu Trapennæ, mox borialis

Turbo quatit puppes, populus perit innumeralis,

Mergitur æs totum, salvatur et Anglica classis

Munere divino, quod non periit valor assis.

Rex prodire negat, renuens sua solvere vota.

Dux pius Anglorum similis et sua concio tota

Puppes ascendit, mare transmeat, ad loca tendit

Gentibus obsessa, longævo turbine pressa.

Accon respirat de tanto milite gaudens,

Atque sepulta diu psallit nova cantica plaudens.

Soldanus fremuit, procerem cogitando necare,

Quem per carnificem dirum fecit jugulare.

Hic assessinus Veteris de Monte ferebat

Nuncia conficta, quæ falso conficiebat;

Ingreditur thalamos præludens hostia, cultro

Vulnera vulneribus impressit; strenuus ultro

Restitit Eaduuardus, tortorem robore stravit,

Quem telo proprio condigna morte necavit.

Et quia condignum Christus famulum sibi novit,

Illius plagas sacro medicamine fovit.

Expliciunt versus secundum Thomam de Wyta compositi de domino Eadwardo Angliæ rege illustrissimo.

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 v^o, 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.

In præsenti tempore non valet scriptura;

Sed sopita veluti latent legis jura,

Amur gist en maladie, charité est nafré;

Ore regne tricherie, hayne est engendré.

Boidie ad seignurie, pes est mise suz pé;

Fei n’ad ki lui guie, en prisun est lié.

Ne lerray ke ne vus die, ne vaut ore escripture;

Mès cum fust endormie e tapist dreiture,

Et nephandi generis excæcata cura

Nullo sensu prævio formidat futura.

Resistentes subruunt iniquitatis nati;

Perit pax ecclesiæ, regnant et elati.

Hoc silendo sustinent improbi prælati,

Mortem pro justitia recusantes pati.

Strata pace penitus, amor refrigescit;

Tota tellus Angliæ mærore madescit,

Omnisque dilectio dulcis evanescit:

Cuncti consolatium quærunt quo quiescit.

De la gent haye avugle est la cure,

Ke el ne dute mie venjance à venir dure.

Les contre-estanz abatent li fiz de felonie;

Lors perit seinte eglise, quant orgoil la mestrie.

Ceo sustenent li prelaz ki s’i ne peinent mie,

Pur dreiture sustenir nolent perdre vie.

Pes est acravanté e amur refreidie;

La terre est desconforté e de plur enmoistie,

Amur et amisté tut est anentie:

N’i ad nul ki ne quert confort et aye.

Patre carent parvuli pupilli plangentes,

Atque matre orphani fame jam deflentes;

Qui in primis penitus fuerunt potentes,

Nunc subcumbunt gladio, plorant et parentes.

Ecce pravi pueri pauperes prædantur;

Ecce donis divites dolose ditantur;

Omnes pene proceres mala machinantur;

Insani satellites livore lætantur.

Ecce viri confluunt undique raptores;

Ecce pacis pereunt legisque latores;

Asez i ad des orphanins grant doel demenanz,

Ke lur parenz sunt mis à fins, dunt il en sunt dolenz,

Cil ki en comencent furent mult pussanz,

Sunt suzmis à le espeye, e plorent li parenz.

Li enfanz felons s’en vunt la povere gent preer;

Li riches à tort enrichiz sunt de autri aver;

A peine i ad haute home ki cesse mal penser;

De hayne sunt haitez li felons esquier.

De tote parz venent li bers ravisanz;

Ore perissent de pes e de la ley li sustenanz;

Dogmata despiciunt truces hii tortores,

Et prodesse nequeunt sancti confessores.

Hii converti respuunt virtute sermonum,

Neque curam capiunt de vita vironum;

Omnes simul rapiunt, ut mos est prædonum.

Hiis vindictam ingere, Deus ultionum!

Enseignement refusent ces cruels tormentanz,

Espleyt ne poent fere cil ki vunt prechanz.

Si il se ne volent amender pur dit ne pur fesance,

Mès pur tuer quant ont poer ben ont la voillance;

Trestuz en funt ravine, de Deu n’en ont dotance.

Cels metez à declin, sire Deu de venjance!

Translation.—Charity is wounded, love is sick; perfidy reigns, and malice is engendered. The fraud of the rulers prevails, peace is trodden under foot; faith fettered in prison is very desolate.—At present, a writing is of no use; but right and law lie as it were asleep, and the care of the wicked race is blind, it has not sufficient foresight to fear the future.—The sons of iniquity crush those who resist; the peace of the church perishes, and the proud reign. The wicked prelates support this state of things by their supineness, for they refuse to suffer death for justice.—Peace being altogether overthrown, love is cooled; all the land of England is moist with weeping, and all friendship and kindness has disappeared; all seek consolation and quiet.—The little orphans lament the loss of their father, and, deprived of their mother, they sorrow in the midst of hunger; they who at first were very powerful, now fall by the sword, and their parents weep.—Lo! wicked children rob the poor; lo! the wealth of the rich is increased by exacting gifts; almost all the nobles spend their time in contriving evil; the mad esquires delight in malice.—Lo! the rapacious men appear on every side; lo! the supporters of peace and justice perish; these cruel butchers despise doctrine, and the holy preachers have no effect.—These men will not be amended by the force of sermons; nor do they make any account of the lives of men; they all plunder together, like robbers. Take vengeance upon them, O God of vengeance.

---

One of the legacies which St. Louis left to Christendom was the number of new orders of monks which had been created during his reign and by his encouragement. They soon spread from France into England; but they were very far from being popular in either country, and were the constant butt of the gibes and jokes of the poets. The following is a bitter satire upon the different orders of monks in England in the reign of Edward I. The idea of caricaturing them by feigning one order which should unite the different characteristic vices of all the others, was not new.

THE ORDER OF FAIR-EASE.

[MS. Harl. No. 2253, fol. 121 r^o. Reign of Ed. II.]

Qui vodra à moi entendre,

Oyr purra e aprendre

L’estoyre de un Ordre novel,

Qe mout est delitous e bel:

Je le vus dirroi come l’ay apris

Des freres de mon pays.

L’Ordre est si foundé à droit,

Qe de tous ordres un point estroit,

N’i ad ordre en cest mound

Dont si n’i ad ascun point. 10

Le noun de l’Ordre vus vueil dyre,

Qe um ne me pust blamer de lire;

Qy oyr velt si se teyse,

C’est le Ordre de Bel-Eyse.

De l’Ordre vus dirroi la sonme;

Quar en l’Ordre est meint prodhonme,

E meinte bele e bone dame.

En cel Ordre sunt sanz blame

Esquiers, vadletz, e serjauntz;

Mès à ribaldz e à pesauntz 20

Est l’Ordre del tot defendu,

Qe jà nul ne soit rescu.

Quar il frount à l’Ordre hounte.

Quant rybaud ou vyleyn mounte

En hautesse ou baylie,

Là oû il puet aver mestrie,

N’i ad plus de mesure en eux

Qe al le luop qe devoure aigneux.

De cele gent lerroi ataunt,

E de le Ordre dirroi avaunt. 30

En cel Ordre dount je vus dy,

Est primes issi estably,

Que ceux qe à l’Ordre serrount,

De Sympringham averount

Un point, qe bien pleysant serra,

Come l’abbeie de Sympringham a,

Freres e sueres ensemble;

C’est bon Ordre, come me semble.

Mès de tant ert changié, pur veyr,

Q’à Sympringham doit aver 40

Entre les freres e les sorours,

Qe desplest à plusours,

Fossés e murs de haute teyse;

Mès en cet Ordre de Bel-Eyse

Ne doit fossé ne mur aver,

Ne nul autre destourber,

Qe les freres à lur pleysyr

Ne pussent à lor sueres venyr,

E qu’il n’eit point de chalaunge.

Jà n’i avera ne lyn ne launge 50

Entre eux, e si le peil y a,

Jà pur ce ne remeindra.

De yleoque est ensi purveu,

Qe cil q’à l’Ordre serrount rendu,

De l’abbé deyvent bien estre:

E ce comaund nostre mestre,

Pur bien manger e à talent

Treis foiz le jour, e plus sovent.

E s’il le font pur compagnye,

Le Ordre pur ce ne remeindra mie. 60

De Beverleye ont un point treit,

Qe serra tenu bien e dreit,

Pur beyvre bien à mangier,

E pus après desqu’à soper;

E après al collacioun,

Deit chescun aver un copoun

De chandelle long desqu’al coute,

E tant come remeindra goute

De la chandeille à arder

Deivent les freres à beyvre ser. 70

Un point unt tret de Hospitlers,

Qe sunt mult corteis chevalers,

E ount robes bien avenauntz,

Longes desqu’al pié traynantz,

Soudlers e chausés bien séantz,

E gros palefrois bien amblantz;

Si deyvent en nostre Ordre aver

Les freres e sueres, pur veyr.

De Chanoynes ont un point pris,

Qu’en l’Ordre ert bien assis; 80

Quar chanoygnes pur grant peyne

Mangent en la symeygne

Char en le refreitour treis jours;

Auxi deyvent nos sorours

E nos freres chescun jour

Char mangier en refreitour,

Fors le vendredi soulement,

E le samadi ensement.

E si issint avenist

Q’al samadi hoste fust, 90

E l’em ne ust plenté de pesshon,

L’estor qe fust en la mesoun

Purreint il par congié prendre,

Jà l’Ordre ne serra le meindre.

Un point ont tret de Moyne Neirs,

Que volenters beyvent, pur veyrs,

E sount cheschun jour yvre,

Quar ne sevent autre vivre;

Mès il le fount pur compagnie,

E ne mie pur glotonie. 100

Auxi est il purveu

Que chescun frere soit enbu,

De jour en jour tot adès

Devant manger e après.

E si il avenist ensi

Qe à frere venist amy,

Dount se deyvent ensorter

Pur les freres solacer,

Qui savera bien juer le seyr;

Ce vus di-je de veir, 110

Yl dormira grant matinée,

Desque la male fumée

Seit de la teste issue,

Pur grant peril de la vewe.

Des Chanoygnes Seculers,

Qe dames servent volenters,

Ont nos mestres un point treit,

E vueillent qe cel point seit

Bien tenuz e bien uséez;

Quar c’est le point, bien sachez, 120

Que pluz ad en l’Ordre mester,

Pur les freres solacer.

Si est, sur eschumygement,

Comaundé molt estroitement,

Que chescun frere à sa sorour

Deit fere le giw d’amour

Devant matines adescement,

E après matines ensement;

E s’il le fet avant son departyr

Troiz foiz à soun pleysyr, 130

Jà le frere blame ne avera,

Ne le Ordre enpeyré serra.

Gris Moignes sunt dure gent,

E de lur ordre nequedent

Vueillent nos mestres pur grever

L’Ordre un des lur poyntz aver;

E si n’est geres corteis,—

Quar à matines vont sanz breys.

Auxi deyvent nos freres fere,

Pur estre prest à lur affere. 140

E quant il fount nul oreysoun,

Si deyvent estre à genulloun,

Pur aver greindre devocioun

A fere lur executioun.

E ou un seyn sonnent santz plus,

C’est lur ordre e lur us:—

Mès nos freres pur doubler,

Ou deus seynz deyvent soner.

De taunt est nostre Ordre dyvers,

Qe no sueres deyvent envers 150

Gysyr e orer countre-mount,

Par grant devocioun le fount.

Issi pernent en pacience,

C’est point de l’Ordre de Cilence;

Chaichons est bon ordre, sanz faile,

N’est nul des autres qe taunt vayle;—

Pur ce vueillent ascun point trere

De cel ordre à nostre affere.

Chescun est en sa celle enclos,

Pur estre soul en repos; 160

Auxi deyvent nos freres estre,

Si doit chescun à sa fenestre

Del herber aver pur solas,

E sa suere entre ces bras,

E estre enclos privément,

Pur survenue de la gent.

Ne devomz pas entreoublier,

Si nostre ordre deit durer,

Les Frere Menours à nul suer,

Qe Dieu servent de bon cuer; 170

Si devomz ascun point aver

De lur ordre, pur mieux valer.

Lur ordre est fondé en poverte,

Pur quei yl vont la voie apierte

En ciel tot plenerement;

Si vus dirroi bien coment

Yl querent poverte tot dis;

Quaunt il vont par le pays,

Al chief baroun ou chivaler

Se lerrount il herberger, 180

Ou à chief persone ou prestre,

Là ou il purrount acese estre;

Mès par Seint Piere de Ronme,

Ne se herbigerount ou povre honme,—

Taunt come plus riches serrount,

Ostiel plustost demanderount.

Ne ne deyvent nos freres fere

Ostiel, ne autre lyu quere,

Fors là ou il sevent plenté,

E là deyvent en charité 190

Char mangier e ce qu’il ount,

Auxi come les Menours fount.

Pus qe avomz des menours,

Auxi averomz des Prechours;

Ne vont come les autres nuyz péez

Eynz vont precher tot chaucéez,

E s’il avient ascune feez

Qu’il seient malades as piés,

Yl purrount, s’il ount talent,

Chevalcher tot plenerement 200

Tote la jornée entière.

Mès tot en autre manere

Deyvent nos freres fere,

Quant il prechent par la terre;

Car il deyvent tot adès

Tot dis chevalcher loinz e près:

E quant il fount nul sermoun,

Si deyvent estre dedenz mesoun.

E tote foiz après manger

Deyvent il de dreit precher; 210

Quar meint honme est de tiele manere,

Qu’il ad le cuer pluz dur qe piere,

Mès quant il avera ankes bu

Tost avera le Ordre entendu,

E les cuers serront enmoistez,

De plus leger serrount oyez,

Qe à l’Ordre se rendrount

Quant le sermon oy averont.

Ensi est nostre ordre foundé,

E si ount nos freres en pensée, 220

Qe chescun counté doit aver

Un abbé, qe eit poer

A receyvre sueres e freres,

E fere e tenyr ordres pleneres,

E qe les pointz seient tenuz

Qe nos mestres ount purveuz.

Un provyncial en la terre

Doit aler e enquere,

Pur saver qy l’Ordre tendra.

E cely qe le enfreindra, 230

Serra privément chastié,

E de son meffet reprové.

E ceux qe serront trovez

Qe l’Ordre averount bien usez,

Si deyvent pur lur humilité

Estre mis en digneté,

E serrount abbés ou priours

A tenyr l’Ordre en honeurs.

Issi fount les Augustyns,

Qe tant sevent de devyns; 240

Par tot enquergent pleynement

Qy tienent l’Ordre lealment,

E ceux qe l’Ordre tendrount

Par tot loé serrount.

Atant fine nostre Ordre,

Q’à touz bonz ordres se acorde,

E c’est l’Ordre de Bel-Eyse,

Qe à plusours trobien pleyse!

Translation.—He who will listen to me, may hear and learn the history of a new Order, which is very pleasant and beautiful: I will tell it you as I have learnt it from the brethren of my country. The Order is so cleverly founded, that it takes a point from all the other orders; there is not an order in this world, of which there is not there some one point. The name of the Order I will tell you, that I may not be blamed for what I read; he who will hear, let him be silent, it is the Order of Fair-Ease. Of this Order I will tell you the sum; for in the order is many a worthy fellow, and many a fair and good dame. In this Order there are without blame, esquires, valets, and serjeants; but to ribalds and to peasants the Order is entirely forbidden, so that no one may be received into it. For they would bring disgrace upon the Order. When ribald or vilein mounts to high place or office, there where he can have power, there is no more moderation in them than in the wolf which devours lambs. Of such people I will say no more, but I will go on to talk about the Order.

In this Order of which I tell you, it is first ordained thus, that those who shall belong to the Order, shall have one point of Sempringham, which will be very agreeable, as the Abbey of Sempringham has, brothers and sisters together; it is a good Order, as it seems to me. But so far, in truth, it is changed, that at Sempringham there must be between the brothers and the sisters (a thing which displeases many,) ditches and walls of high measure; but in this Order of Fair-Ease there must be neither ditch nor wall, nor any other impediment, to hinder the brethren at their pleasure from visiting the sisters, nor shall there be any watch-word. Their intimacy shall neither be separated by linen nor wool, or even by their very skins. From thence also it is provided, that they who shall enter the Order, must be well entertained by the abbot: and this our master commands, to eat well and plentifully three times a day, and oftener. And if they do it for company, the Order on that account shall not be the worse.

Of Beverley they have taken a point, which shall be kept well and accurately, to drink well at their meat, and then afterwards until supper; and afterwards at the collation, each must have a piece of candle as long as the arm below the elbow, and as long as there shall remain a morsel of the candle to burn, the brethren must continue their drinking.

A point they have taken from the Hospitallers, who are very courteous knights, and have very becoming robes, so long that they drag at their feet; shoes and breeches which fit elegantly, and great palfreys that amble well; so in our Order, in truth, the brethren and sisters must have them.

Of the Canons they have taken a point, which will agree well with the Order; for the canons, for great pain, eat in the refectory flesh three days in the week; so must our sisters and our brethren eat flesh in the refectory every day, except only Friday, and likewise Saturday. And if it so happen that there be a fast on the Saturday, and they have not plenty of fish, they may have leave to take what provisions are in the house; the Order will be none the worse for it.

A point they have taken from the Black Monks, that they love drinking, forsooth, and are drunk every day, for they do not know any other way of living. But they do it for the sake of society, and not at all out of gluttony. Also it is provided, that each brother drink before dinner and after. And if it so happen that a friend visit a brother (for such must be at hand to solace the brethren) who shall know how to play in the evening; this I tell you for certain, he shall sleep late in the morning, until the evil fumes are issued from his head, for great danger of the sight.

Of the Secular Canons, who willingly serve ladies, our masters have taken a point, and will that this point be well observed and well used; for know that this point is more needful than any in the Order, in order to solace the brethren. And so it is commanded very straightly, on pain of excommunication, that the brethren be constant companions of the sisters, both before matins and after, so that the brethren be not blamed for neglecting them, nor the Order receive discredit.

The Grey Monks are a hard race; yet, nevertheless, from their order our masters will that the Order have one of their points for mortification; and in fact it is not over courteous,—for they go to matins without breeches. So ought our brethren to do, to be more at their ease. And when they make no prayer, they must be on their knees, to have greater and more effectual devotion: and they ring with one bell, and no more,—it is their order and usage:—but our brethren, to double it, must sound with two bells. Our Order has such difference, that our sisters must lay down flat and pray on their backs, they do it out of great devotion.

Also they take in patience, it is a point from the Order of Silence; each is a good order, without doubt, but none of the others is so valuable;—therefore they will take one point of this order for our purpose. Each is shut up in his cell, to repose himself alone; so our brothers must be, and each at his window must have some plants to comfort him, and his sister in his arms, and he must be shut up privately, that nobody may disturb them.

We must not forget, if our Order is to last, the Friars Minors, in no case; so must we have a point of their order, to be of more account. Their order is founded in poverty, therefore they go the open way to heaven completely; and I will tell you exactly how they seek poverty always; when they travel through the country, they take up their lodgings with the chief baron or knight, or with the chief person or priest, there where they can be satiated; but, by St. Peter of Rome! they will never lodge with a poor man,—so long as there are richer men to be found, they prefer asking a lodging of them. In the same manner our brethren must not take up their lodging, nor seek other place, than where they know there is plenty, and there they ought in charity to eat flesh and whatever they find, as the Friars Minors do.

As we owe something to the Minors, we will borrow also of the Preachers; they do not go bare-foot like the others, but they go preaching with shoes on, and if it happen any time that they have sore feet, they may, if they like, ride on horseback at their ease all the day long. But quite in another manner ought our brethren to do, when they preach through the land; for they must ride thus always both far and near: and when they make any sermon, they must be within doors. And always after dinner they ought rightly to preach; for many a man is of such a character, that his heart is harder than stone; but when he shall have once drunk, then as soon as he has heard the Order, and the hearts shall be moistened, however little they might have heard, they will listen to the Order, when they have heard the sermon.

Thus is our Order founded, and our brothers have deemed right, that each county must have an abbot, who has power to receive sisters and brothers, and make and hold full orders, and that the points shall be held which our masters have provided. A provincial ought to go and inquire in the land, to know who will hold the Order. And he who shall break it, shall be chastised in private, and reproved for his trespass. And those who shall be found to have made good use of the order, must, for their humility, be raised to dignity, and they shall be abbots or priors to hold the order in honours. Thus do the Augustine Monks, who know so many devices; every where they give full encouragement to those who hold the Order loyally, and those who will hold the Order shall be praised everywhere.

Now ends our Order, which agrees with all good orders, and it is the Order of Fair-Ease, which to many may it please too well!

---

Edward endeavoured to call off the vigour of his subjects from domestic sedition to foreign wars. But the expenses dependent upon the latter only added to the many burdens under which the English peasantry laboured; and it is now that we begin to find the complaints of the latter vented in the shape of popular songs.

SONG OF THE HUSBANDMAN.

[MS. Harl. No. 2253, fol. 64, r^o; reign of Edw. II.]

Ich herde men upo mold make muche mon,

Hou he beth i-tened of here tilyynge,

Gode ȝeres and corn bothe beth a-gon,

Ne kepeth here no sawe ne no song syng.

“Now we mote worche, nis ther non other won,

Mai ich no lengore lyve with my lesinge;

Ȝet ther is a bitterore bid to the bon,

For ever the furthe peni mot to the kynge.

Thus we carpeth for the kyng, and carieth ful colde,

And weneth for te kevere, and ever buth a-cast;

Whose hath eny god, hopeth he nout to holde,

Bote ever the levest we leoseth a-last.

Luther is to leosen ther ase lutel ys,

And haveth monie hynen that hopieth therto;

The hayward heteth us harm to habben of his;

The bailif bockneth us bale and weneth wel do;

The wodeward waiteth us wo that loketh under rys;

Ne mai us ryse no rest rycheis ne ro.

Thus me pileth the pore that is of lute pris:

Nede in swot and in swynk swynde mot swo:”

Nede he mot swynde thah he hade swore,

That nath nout en hod his lied for te hude.

Thus wil walketh in londe, and lawe is for-lore,

And al is piked of the pore, the prikyares prude.

Thus me pileth the pore and pyketh ful clene,

The ryche raymeth withouten eny ryht;

Ar londes and ar leodes liggeth fol lene,

Thorh bddyng of baylyfs such harm hem hath hiht.

Meni of religioun me halt hem ful hene,

Baroun and bonde, the clerc and the knyht.

Thus wil walketh in loud, and wondred ys wene,

Falsshipe fatteth and marreth wyth myht.

Stont fulle ythe stude, and halt him ful sturne,

That maketh beggares go with bordon and bagges.

Thus we beth honted from hale to hurne;

That er werede robes, nou wereth ragges.

Ȝet cometh budeles, with ful muche bost,—

“Greythe me selver to the grene wax:

Thou art writen y my writ that thou wel wost.”

Mo then ten sithen told y my tax.

Thenne mot ych habbe hennen a-rost,

Feyr on fyhshe day launprey ant lax;

Forth to the chepyn geyneth ne chost,

Thah y sulle mi bil ant my borstax.

Ich mot legge my wed wel ȝef y wolle,

Other sulle mi corn on gras that is grene.

Ȝet I shal be foul cherl, thah he han the fulle,

That ich alle ȝer spare thenne y mot spene.

Nede y mot spene that y spared ȝore,

Aȝeyn this cachereles cometh thus y mot care;

Cometh the maister budel brust ase a bore,

Seith he wole mi bugging bringe ful bare.

Mede y mot munten a mark other more,

Thah ich at the set dey sulle mi mare.

Ther the grene wax us greveth under gore,

That me us honteth ase hound doth the hare.

He us honteth ase hound hare doh on hulle;

Seththe y tek to the lond such tene me wes taht.

Nabbeth ner budeles boded ar sulle,

For he may scape ant we aren ever caht.

Thus y kippe ant cacche cares ful colde,

Seththe y counte ant cot hade to kepe;

To seche selver to the kyng y mi seed solde,

Forthi mi lond leye lith ant leorneth to slepe.

Seththe he mi feire feh fatte y my folde,

When y thenk o mi weole wel neh y wepe;

Thus bredeth monie beggares bolde,

Ant ure ruȝe ys roted ant ruls er we repe.

Ruls ys oure ruȝe ant roted in the stre,

For wickede wederes by brok ant by brynke.

Ther wakeneth in the world wondred ant wee,

Ase god is swynden anon as so for te swynke.

Translation.—I heard men on the earth make much lamentation,—how they are injured in their tillage,—good years and corn are both gone,—they keep here no saying and sing no song.—Now we must work, there is no other custom,—I can no longer live with my gleaning;—yet there is a bitterer asking for the boon,—for ever the fourth penny must [go] to the king.

Thus we complain for the king, and care full coldly,—and think to recover, and ever are cast;—he who hath any goods, expects not to keep them,—but ever the dearest we lose at last.

It is grievous to lose, where there is little,—and we have many fellows who expect it;—the hayward commandeth us harm to have of his;—the bailiff causeth us to know evil, and thinks to do well;—the woodward has woe in keeping for us, who looketh under branches;—there may not arise to us or remain with us riches or repose.—Thus they rob the poor man, who is of little value:—he must needs in sweat and in labour waste away so.

He must needs pine away, though he had swore (?),—that hath not a hood to hide his head.—Thus will walketh in the land, and law is destroyed,—and all the pride of the rider is picked from the poor.

Thus they rob the poor and pick him full clean,—the rich lord it without any right;—their lands and their people lay full lean,—through asking of bailifs such harm has befallen them.—Many of religion hold them full abject,—baron and bond-man, the clerk and the knight.—Thus will walks in the land, and consternation is frequent,—falsehood fattens and marrs with might.

He stands full in the place, and holds him full sternly,—that makes beggars go with bordon and bags.—Thus we are hunted from hall to corner;—they who once wore robes, now wear rags.

Still there come beadles, with very great boast,—“Prepare me silver for the green wax:—thou art entered in my writing, that thou knowest well of.”—More than ten times I paid my tax.—Then must I have hens roasted,—fair on the fish day lamprey and salmon;—forth to the market gains not cost,—though I sell my bill and my borstax.

I must lay my pledge well if I will,—or sell my corn while it is but green grass.—Yet I shall be a foul churl, though they have the whole,—what I have saved all the year, I must spend then.

I must needs spend what I saved formerly,—I must thus take care against the time these catchpoles come;—the master beadle comes as roughly as a boar,—he says he will make my lodgings full bare;—I must give him for meed a mark or more,—though I sell my mare at the day fixed.—There the green wax grieveth us under garment,—so that they hunt us as a hound doth the hare.

They hunt us as a hound doth a hare on the hill;—since I took to the land such hurt was given me:—the beadles have never asked their ...,—for they may scape, and we are always caught.

Thus I take and catch cares full cold,—since I reckoning and cot had to keep;—to seek silver for the king, I sold my seed,—wherefore my land lies fallow and learneth to sleep.—Since they fetched my fair cattle in my fold,—when I think of my weal I very nearly weep;—thus breed many bold beggars,—and our rye is rotted and ... before we reap.

... is our rye and rotted in the straw,—on account of the bad weather by brook and by brink.—There wakes in the world consternation and woe,—as good is to perish at once as so to labour.

---

The following song appears to be directed against the gay fashions in Ladies’ clothing which became prevalent about this time, and seem even to have been aped by the middle and lower ranks.

AGAINST THE PRIDE OF THE LADIES.

[MS. Harl. 2253, fol. 61, v^o; reign of Edw. II.]

Lord that lenest us lyf, ant lokest uch an lede,

For te cocke with knyf nast thou none nede;

Bothe wepmon ant wyf sore mowe drede,

Lest thou be sturne with strif, for bone that thou bede,

in wunne

That monku[n]ne

Shulde shilde hem from sunne.

Nou hath prude the pris in everuche plawe;

By mony wymmon un-wis y sugge mi sawe,

For ȝef a ledy lyne is leid after lawe,

Uch a strumpet that ther is such drahtes wl drawe;

in prude

Uch a screwe wol hire shrude

Thah he nabbe nout a smoke hire foule ers to hude.

Furmest in boure were boses y-broht,

Levedis to honoure ichot he were wroht;

Uch gigelot wol loure, bote he hem habbe soht;

Such shrewe fol soure ant duere hit hath a-boht;

in helle

With develes he shule duelle,

For the clogges that cleveth by here chelle.

Nou ne lacketh hem no lyn boses in to beren;

He sitteth ase a slat swyn that hongeth is eren.

Such a joustynde gyn uch wrecche wol weren,

Al hit cometh in declyn this gigelotes geren;

upo lofte

The devel may sitte softe,

Ant holden his halymotes ofte.

Ȝef ther lyth a loket by er outher eȝe,

That mot with worse be wet for lat of other leȝe;

The bout and the barbet wyth frountel shule feȝe;

Habbe he a fauce filet, he halt hire hed heȝe,

to shewe

That heo be kud ant knewe

For strompet in rybaudes rewe.

Translation.—Lord, that givest us life, and regardest every people,—to ... with knife thou hast no need;—both man and woman sorely may dread,—lest thou be stern with wrath, for the boon that thou askedst,—in joy—that mankind—should shield themselves from sin.

Now pride hath the prize in every play;—of many unwise women I say my saw,—for if a lady’s linen is laid after law,—every strumpet that there is such draughts will draw;—in pride—every shrew will clothe herself,—though she have not a smock to hide her dirty tail.

First in bower were bosses brought,—to honour ladies I wot they were wrought;—every giglot will lour, unless she have them sought;—such shrew full sourly and dearly hath bought it;—in hell—with devils they shall dwell,—on account of the clogs which hang by their jowls.

Now they want no linen to bear bosses in;—they sit like a slit swine which hangs its ears.—Such a justling contrivance every wretch will wear,—that these giglots’ gear all comes to nothing;—on high—the devil may sit softly,—and hold his sabbaths often.

If there lies a locket by ear or eye,—that may with worse be wet, for lack of other lye; the but and the barbel with frontlet shall quarrel;—if she have a false fillet, she holds her head high,—to show—that she is famous and well known—for a strumpet in the ribalds’ ranks.

---

Another song, written apparently about the same period, is a satire upon the smaller Ecclesiastical Courts, and the vexation which they caused to the peasantry.

A SATYRE ON THE CONSISTORY COURTS.

[MS. Harl. No. 2253, fol. 70, v^o; of reign of Edw. II.]

Ne mai no lewed lued libben in londe,

Be he never in hyrt so haver of honde,

So lerede us bi-ledes;

Ȝef ich on molde mote with a mai,

Y shal falle hem byfore ant lurnen huere lay,

Ant rewen alle huere redes.

Ah bote y be the furme day on folde hem by-fore,

Ne shal y nout so skere scapen of huere score;

So grimly he on me gredes,

That y ne mot me lede ther with mi lawe,

On alle maner othes that heo me wulleth awe,

Heore boc ase un-bredes.

Heo wendeth bokes un-brad,

Ant maketh men a moneth a-mad;

Of scathe y wol me skere,

Ant fleo from my fere;

Ne rohte he whet it were,

Boten heo hit had.

Furst ther sit an old cherl in a blake hure,

Of all that ther sitteth semeth best syre,

And leyth ys leg o lonke.

An heme in an herygoud with honginde sleven,

Ant mo then fourti him by-fore my bales to breven,

In sunnes ȝef y songe:

Heo pynkes with heore penne on heore parchemyn,

Ant sayen y am breved ant y-broht yn

Of al my weole wlonke.

Alle heo bueth redy myn routhes to rede,

Ther y mot for menske munte sum mede,

Ant thonkfulliche hem thonke.

Shal y thonke hem ther er y go?

Ȝe, the maister ant ys men bo.

Ȝef y am wreint in heore write,

Thenne am y bac-bite,

For moni mon heo maketh wyte

Of wymmene wo.

Ȝet ther sitteth somenours syexe other sevene,

Mys motinde men alle by here evene,

Ant recheth forth heore rolle;

Hyrd-men hem hatieth, ant uch mones hyne,

For everuch a parosshe heo polketh in pyne,

Ant clastreth with heore colle.

Nou wol uch fol clerc that is fayly,

Wende to the bysshop ant bugge bayly;

Nys no wyt in is nolle.

Come to countene court couren in a cope,

Ant suggen he hath privilegie proud of the pope,

Swart ant al to-swolle.

Aren heo to-swolle for swore?

Ȝe, the hatred of helle beo heore!

For ther heo beodeth a boke,

To sugge ase y folht toke;

Heo shulen in helle on an hoke

Honge therefore.

Ther stont up a ȝeolumon, ȝeȝeth with a ȝerde,

Ant hat out an heh that al the hyrt herde,

Ant cleopeth Magge ant Malle;

Ant heo cometh by-modered ase a mor-hen,

Ant scrynketh for shome, ant shometh for men,

Un-comely under calle.

Heo biginneth to shryke, ant scremeth anon,

Ant saith, “by my gabbyng ne shal hit so gon,

Ant that beo on ou alle;

That thou shalt me wedde ant welde to wyf.”

Ah me were levere with lawe leose my lyf,

Then so to fote hem falle.

Shal y to fote falle for mi fo?

Ȝe monie by-swyketh heo swo.

Of thralles y am ther thrat,

That sitteth swart ant for-swat,

Ther y mot hente me en hat,

Er ich hom go.

Such chaffare y chepe at the chapitre,

That maketh moni thryve-mon un-thenfol to be,

With thonkes ful thunne:

Ant seththe y go coure at constory,

Ant falle to fote uch a fayly,

Heore is this worldes wynne,

Seththen y pleide at bisshopes plee.

Ah! me were levere be sonken y the see,

In sor withouten synne.

At chirche ant thourh cheping ase dogge y am drive,

That me were levere of lyve then so for te lyve,

To care of al my kynne.

Atte constorie heo kenneth us care,

Ant whissheth us evele ant worse to fare;

A pruest proud ase a po,

Seththe weddeth us bo,

Wyde heo worcheth us wo,

For wymmene ware.

Translation.—No unlearned (lay) person may live in the land,—be he in assembly never so ... of hand,—the learned (the clergy) so lead us about;—if I chance to go on the earth with a maid,—I shall fall before them and learn their lay,—and rue all their counsels.—But unless I be on the foremost day in the land before them,—I shall not escape so clear of their score,—they cry on me so grimly,—that I may not lead myself there with my law,—on all kinds of oaths that they will give me,—their books as....—They turn over books that are not broad,—and make men a month mad;—from hurt I will save myself,—and fly from my companion;—she recked not what it were,—but she had it.

First, there sit an old churl in a black gown,—of all who sit there he seems to be most the lord,—and lays his leg along.—A hem in a cloak with hanging sleeves,—and more than forty before him to write my bales,—in sins if I sung:—they pink with their pens on their parchment,—and say I am briefed and brought in—of all my fair wealth.—They are all ready to read my sorrow—there I must out of respect give some bribe,—and gratefully thank them.—Shall I thank them there before I go?—Yea, the master and his men both.—If I am accused in their writing,—then am I back-bitten,—for many men they make to know—woe from women.

Yet there sit somnours six or seven,—misjudging men all alike,—and reach forth their roll;—herdsmen hate them, and each man’s servant,—for every parish they put in pain,—and clatter with their collar (?).—Now will each foolish clerk that is ..., go to the bishop and buy bailywick;—there is no sense in his head.—He comes creeping to the county court in a cope,—and saying he hath proud privilege of the pope,—black and all swollen.—Are they swollen for swearing (?)?—yea, the hatred of hell be theirs!—for there they offer a book,—to say as I baptism took;—they shall in hell on a hook—hang for it.

There stands up a yellow-man, and jogs with a rod,—and shouts out aloud that all the assembly heard,—and calls Mag and Mal;—and she comes be-mothered as a moor-hen,—and shrinks for shame, and is ashamed on account of the men,—un-comely under petticoat.—She begins to screech, and screams anon,—and says, “by my gabbing, it shall not go so,—and that be on you all;—that thou shalt wed me and have me to wife.”—But I would rather with law lose my life,—than so fall at their feet.—Shall I fall at the feet of my foes?—Yea, many she deceiveth so.—I am there threatened by thralls,—who sit black and covered with sweat,—there I must take me a command,—before I go home.

Such merchandise I buy at the chapter,—that makes many thrifty men to be unthankful,—with very thin thanks:—and since I go creeping to the consistory,—and fall at the foot of each ...,—theirs is the world’s joy,—since I played at the bishop’s pleading.—But I had rather be drowned in the sea,—in sorrow without sin.—At church and through the market like a dog I am driven,—that I would rather be dead than so to live,—to have care for all my kindred.—At the consistory they teach us care,—and wish us evil and worse to fare;—a priest as proud as a peacock—afterwards weds us both,—widely they work us woe,—for women’s ware.

---

In the latter years of the thirteenth century, Edward became involved in the Scottish wars; and the enmity of the two nations was manifested in multitudes of songs, of which the greater part are lost, although a few are preserved, and a fragment or two of others are found in the old historians. The following song, attributed in the several manuscripts to different writers, was (if we may judge by the number of copies which remain,) very popular. Different persons seem, from time to time, to have altered it and added to it. It appears to have been composed in 1298, soon after the sanguinary battle of Falkirk; but the latter stanzas, found only in one manuscript, have apparently been added at a somewhat later period.

SONG ON THE SCOTTISH WARS.

[MS. Cotton. Claudius, D. VI. fol. 182, v^o; of the beginning of the fourteenth cent. (C. 1.)—MS. Cotton. Titus, A. XX. fol. 64, v^o; of reign of Edw. III. (C. 2.)—MS. of Clare Hall, Cambridge, of fourteenth cent. (Cl.)—MS. Sloan. No. 4934, fol. 103, r^o; a modern copy from a MS. not now known. (Sl.)—MS. Bodl. Oxfd. Rawl. B. 214, fol. 216, r^o; of the fifteenth cent.]

Ludere volentibus ludens paro lyram;

De mundi malitia rem demonstro miram;

Nil quod nocet referam, rem gestam requiram;

Scribo novam satyram, sed sic ne seminet iram.

Ira movet militum mentes modernorum,

Dum inermes detrahunt factis fortiorum;

Various Readings.—2. militia, C. 2. & Cl. demonstrans, C. 2.—3. perquiram, Cl.—7. sed vos non commoveant, C. 1.

Te tamen non terreant dentes detractorum:

Cum recte vivas, ne cures verba malorum.

[Ira si duraverit, transit in livorem;

Livor non cohibitus agitat furorem;

Furor dies breviat, ducens in anguorem;

Ira odium generat, concordia nutrit amorem,

Amor orbis obiit, virus est in villa;

Prodiit ex odio pestis non pusilla; †10

Lator homicidii levavit vexilla:

Acrius invidia nichil est, nil nequius illa.

Invido nil nequius, nullus est qui nescit;

Nam de bono proximi dolor ejus crescit.

Unde justus proficit, hinc ipse tabescit.

Sincerum nisi vas, quodcumque infundis acescit.

Ut acescant igitur mentes malignorum,

Narrabo quæ noveram de gestis Anglorum.

Various Readings.—8. Instead of this second tetrastich, the Sloane and Cambridge MSS. have the four which are here given in brackets.—[†7. languorem, Sl.—†9. abiit, Sl.—†12. Nequius ... nil est, nil acrius, Sl.

Non verebor a modo voces invidorum.

Cum recte vivas, ne cures verba malorum.] †20

Malis inest proprium mala semper fari,

Validis detrahere, viles venerari. 10

Ex timore talium nolo vos turbari;

Laus est discretis a pravis vituperari.

Pravis enim displicet vitæ rectitudo:

Lex in eis læditur, et est lis pro ludo.

Ribaldorum requies est inquietudo;

Dum stultos revoco, quasi frigida ferra recudo.

Ferrum cudit frigidum quisquis obstinato

Consulit ut redeat de suo peccato;

Dicit enim sapiens sermone sensato,

Verba serit vento qui prædicat infatuato. 20

Prædicantur undique fraudes infidorum,

Various Readings.—†19. verebor animo, Sl. voces malignorum, Cl.]—9. inest spiritum, C. 2. proprie, Cl.—10. validos, Sl.—11. nubari, Sl.—13. sanctitudo, C. 1 and 2.—15. reproborum, C. 1.—16. stultum, C. 2.—18. suadet ut, C. 1. præcipit ut, Sl. ut fugiat, Cl. a suo, Sl.—19. serato, Sl.—21. malignorum, Cl.

Qui molestant Angliam viribus armorum;

Franci, Scoti, Wallici, potestatem quorum

Comprimat omnipotens qui continet alta polorum!

Polorum dispositor quem clamamus Deum,

Qui per multa populum protexit Hebræum,

Anglicis ex hostibus tribuat trophæum!

Mille viris præbere potest pincerna Lyæum.

Ut pincerna pluribus dat per velle potum,

Ita suis Dominus vires dat ad votum; 30

Edwardus rex inclitus istud habet notum;

Christo devotum studeat se tradere totum.

Totus Christo traditur rex noster Edwardus;

Velox est ad veniam, ad vindictam tardus;

Fugat adversarios tanquam leopardus;

Fama fœtet fatui, justus redolet quasi nardus.

Various Readings.—24. Destruat ipse Deus qui, C. 1 and 2. possidet, C. 2.—25. clamavimus, Sl.—26. cuncta, Cl. produxit, C. 2.—29. dare potest pot. Cl. paribus dare possit p. Sl. sicut unus pluribus dat pincerna pot. C. 1.—31. illud habet, Cl. et Sl.—34. ad is omitted in C. 2 and Cl. In Sl. the two lines (34 and 35) are transposed.—35. Hostes fugat singulos t. C. 1. fugat hostes undique t. C. 2.

Tanquam nardus redolet laus regis Anglorum,

Qui conatus reprimit hostium suorum;

Ipsum omnes timeant hostes Anglicorum:

Sæpe molossus ovem tollit de fauce luporum. 40

In luporum faucibus Angli sunt hiis annis;

Nam, devictis omnibus Walliæ tyrannis,

Scoti levant lanceas armati sub pannis;

In paucis annis oriuntur mira Johannis.

Johannes jam Scotiæ clemens rex et castus,

Regni tenens regimen, ut rex erat pastus,

Hunc tandem deposuit gentis suæ fastus.

Exulat ejectus de sede pia protoplastus.

Exulat et merito, quia, sicut legi,

Various Readings.—36. C. virtus redolet, C. 1. secet, by an error, for fetet, Sl. istius redolet, Sl. fama replens mundum fragrat velut optima n. C. 2.—37. quasi nardus, Cl. and Sl.—38, 39. Qui regit rempublicam more Romanorum | Innocentes erripit de manu pravorum, C. 1. Fama cujus attigit fines seculorum; | Ipsum tr’imēt Scotici fures jumentorum, C. 2. Dum conatus, &c. Cl.—41. faucibus hiis consistunt annis, Sl.—42. devinctis, Sl.—45. J. rex Sc. quondam cl. cast. Cl. quidem Scotiæ, Sl.—47. disposuit, C. 1 et C. 2.—48. sede sua, C. 1 and Sl.—49. Hic dum rexit Scotiam prout dudum legi, C. 1. Hic dum sedem tenuit regnum d. l. Sl. Hic dum regnum tenuit in scriptis jam l. Cl.

Spopondit homagium Anglicano regi; 50

Declinavit postea frango, frangis, fregi:

Omnia quæ pepigi prodendo pacta peregi.

Pactum prætergressus est princeps prænotatus,

Quando non compescuit pravorum conatus;

Vox in Rama sonuit, fletus et ploratus;

Mitis prælatus facit ignavos famulatus.

Ab ignavis famulis rex inhonoratur;

Sanctitas subvertitur, lex evacuatur;

Sæpe fit seditio, pax periclitatur.

Sit maledicta domus ubi quisque cliens dominatur! 60

Quando cliens imperat, et princeps obedit,

Tunc ruit respublica, requies recedit.

O quantos impietas inpunita lædit!

Inpius impunis semper se vincere credit.

Credebant duodecim Scotiæ prælati

Various Readings.—50. Quod fecit hom. Cl. and Sl.—51. sed declinat, C. 2.—55. resonat, Cl.—61-68, are omitted in Cl.—64. Inpius imprimis, Sl.

Anglorum resistere magnæ probitati;

Ceciderunt igitur plures vulnerati.

Dixit bufo crati, “maledicti tot dominati!”

Dominantes plurimi sub duce tantillo,

Conspirant in Anglicos, rege tunc tranquillo; 70

Tandem simul obviant levato vexillo.

Flumina magna trahunt ortum de fonte pusillo.

De pusillis fontibus magni surgunt rivi;

Sic de gente Scotiæ conatus lascivi.

Plurimi propterea ducti sunt captivi:

Quicquid delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi.

Plebs Achiva periit ad Dunbar in bello,

Ubi Scoti cæsi sunt Anglorum flagello.

Videres cadavera, velut in macello

Vilia vendentis, tunicato stricta popello. 80

Tunicatus populus multus et immanis,

Various Readings.—68. bufo cuncti, Sl.—69. sub dicto, C. 1.—70. Anglico, Cl.—71. obviat, C. 1. sibi obviant, Sl. stulti levant lanceas armato v. Cl.—74. de Scotis miseris, C. 1. de plebe Scotiæ, Sl.—77. ad Berwik, C. 2.—80. Vilis, C. 2. strincta, C. 2. et Cl. cincta, Sl.—81. inanis, C. 1. vilis et inanis, Sl.

Qui solet detrahere viris Anglicanis,

Apud Dunbarre corruit, jam fœtet ut canis:

Sic faciunt stulti, quos gloria vexat inanis.

Vana fecit gloria populum fallacem

Diffiteri dominum Scotiæ veracem;

Facto tamen prælio veniunt ad pacem.

De fatuo quandoque facit fortuna sagacem.

Sagax est in prælio qui majori cedit;

Sed gens bruta Scotiæ cito fidem lædit. 90

Nemo potest tollere quod natura dedit:

Osse radicatum raro de carne recedit.

Recessit rex inclitus, parcens plebi tantæ;

Peragravit Scotiam turba comitante.

Angli castra muniunt, rege sic mandante;

Nam levius lædit quicquid providimus ante.

Various Readings.—83. cadebant in foveis, C. 1. cadebant in prælio, Sl.—85. plebem contumacem, C. 2. facit ... prophetam fal. Sl.—86. Edwardum contempnere dominum v. C. 2.—88. quemcunque facit, Sl.—90. Scotica, C. 2.—92. de carne raro, C. 1.—93. recedit, Sl. rex igitur, C. 1.—94. Scotiam pertransiit, C. 1.—95. rege procurante, C. 1 and Sl.—96. prævidimus, C. 1.

Regis providentia bella gubernantur;

Scoticani proceres Anglis subjugantur:

Statuuntur judices, leges renovantur;

Ipsæ etenim leges cupiunt ut jure regantur. 100

Rex ad regni regimen dignum deputavit,

Johannem Warenniæ, quem sæpe probavit.

Hic in quantum valuit leges observavit;

Elatos perdens, humiles in pace locavit.

Rex in pace rediit hiis ita patratis,

Comiti de Flandria succursurus gratis;

Magnam classem præparat tempestive satis;

Tolle moram, semper nocuit differe paratis.

Nec mora, conveniunt Scotici versuti;

Tactis Evangeliis sacris sunt locuti, 110

Various Readings.—97. valla, C. 1.—98. Scotiani, C. 1.—99. revocantur, Sl. prænotantur, C. 1.—100. ipse rerum, Sl.—102. Johan Warenne, C. 1.—103. potuit Scotos registravit, C. 1. valuit jura conservavit, Sl.—104. prodens, Sl. levavit, C. 1.—105. in pace rex, C. 1.—107. Morari non patitur, navibus paratis, C. 1. Præparat navigia tempestive satis, Sl.—108. deferre, C. 1.

Quod Trentam non transient austro constituti:

Pauca voluptati debentur, plura saluti.

Scoticani proceres jurant omnes læte,

Et a rege singulis limitantur metæ:

Vide ne perjuri sint, et ruant in rete;

Nam miranda canunt, sed non credenda, poetæ.

Tunc rex mire credulus mare transfretavit,

Et Francos in Flandria potens expugnavit;

Senectutis inmemor multos non expavit.

Consilio pollet, cui vim natura negavit. 120

Non negavit Dominus robur et vigorem

Regi, quem constituit fore mundi florem;

Cujus acta singulos agunt in stuporem;

Quemvis namque potest animo sufferre laborem.

Labor novus oritur; Sathan suscitatur;

Various Readings.—111. Quod trugam non, C. 2.—112. P. v. plura debent sal. Sl.—113. Per salutem regiam Scoti jurant l. C. 1 and Sl.—114. singuli, Sl.—115. ac ruant, C. 1.—119. sententiæ immemor, Sl.—120. vis, C. 2.—122. Regem, quem, Sl.—123. Ejus bella, C. 1. Actus ejus, Sl.—124. namque animo potuit, Sl.

Scotorum fidelitas procul effugatur;

Anglicorum probitas falso depravatur.

Arbitrii nostri non est, quod quisque loquatur.

Loquuntur ad invicem scurræ derelictæ;

“Ecce dantur Anglicis triumphales vittæ. 130

O! Guyllam de Wallia, nos ad ipsos mitte:

Loricam duram possunt penetrare sagittæ.

Omnes sagittarios nostros convocemus;

Ad custodem Scotiæ simul properemus.

Nam pro nostra patria fas est ut pugnemus:

Victorem a victo superari sæpe videmus.”

Custos ergo Scotiæ coarctatur nimis;

Et ad Strivelyne convenit gens corde sublimis;

Fraus occidit Anglicos, et ruunt in imis:

Non eodem cursu respondent ultima primis. 140

Various Readings.—127. Et Anglorum, C. 1 and Sl. dampnatur, Sl.—129. turbæ de. C. 2. derilictæ, C. 1.—131. non ad, Sl.—133. Viros sag. C. 1 and Sl. omnes con. Sl.—134. cito prop. C. 2. This line and the following are transposed in Sl.—135. pat. est ut propugnemus, Sl.—138. Strivelyn, C. 1. Strevelyn, Sl. properat gens, C. 2 and Sl.—139. Defraudantur Anglici, C. 2.

Primus pontem transiit comes dux Anglorum,

Penetrans audaciter cuneos Scotorum;

Sed seductus rediit, non ob vim virorum:

Fraus est materia multorum sæpe malorum.

Fraus effecit Anglicos rubore perfundi,

Dum suorum sanguinem passim vident fundi.

Reus fraudis Levenax est et Ricardus Lundi.

Quam brevis est risus, quam longaque lacrima mundi!

O mundi perfidia! quis te non miratur?

Dolus in domesticis latens occultatur; 150

Versutus pacifico semper adversatur:

Pastor oves minat baculo, lupus ore minatur.

Quid minatur barbara bruta gens et stulta?

Numquid hæc perfidia manebit inulta?

Various Readings.—142. audacter cuneas, Sl.—144. mater multorum, Sl.—145. Fraus confecit, C. 1. robore, Sl. in campo confundi, C. 2.—146. bello vident, C. 1 and Sl.—147. le faux est et Ricardus secundi, C. 1. Letenax et, C. 2. Reus fraus L. Sl.—148. usus quam, C. 1. longa lac. C. 2 and Sl.—149. O mundi malitia, Sl.—151. admiratur, C. 1 and C. 2.—152. bac. minat. Sl.—153. miraris, Sl.—154. hæc injuria, Sl. hæc is omitted in C. 1.

Veniet rex Angliæ manu non occulta,

Multa super Priamo rogitans, super Hectore multa.

Multa sibi cumulat mala gens superba,

Anglicos ad prælia provocans acerba;

Verbera cum venient, tunc cessabunt verba:

Cum totum fecisse putas, latet anguis in herba. 160

[“Non latebit,” inquiunt, “nobis luce Phœbus;

Per nos ruent Anglici simul hiis diebus,

Nullus pervilibus percel speciebus.” (?)

Ludit in humanis divina potentia rebus.

O Dei potentia! te pro tuis peto!

Anglis in auxilium veni vultu læto!

Regis causam judicas, gratiam præbeto:

Tu sine principio non vincere falsa jubeto.]

Post hæc dux fallaciæ suum vocat cœtum,

Various Readings.—157. tibi cumulans, Sl. magna gens, C. 2.—158. Nam fortes, Sl.—159. Numquid non intelligit sapientis verba, C. 1. Non enim intel. sap. v. C. 2.—160. The eight lines which follow (included in brackets) are found only in Sl.—161. Statim dux fallacis, C. 1. Falsus d. f. convocavit c. Sl.

Sciens quod abierit rex noster trans fretum;

Cremare Northumbriam statuit decretum:

“Sæpe videmus,” ait, “post gaudia rumpere fletum.”

Lugeat Northumbria nimis desolata!

Facta est ut vidua filiis orbata.

Vescy, Morley, Somervile, Bertram sunt in fata:

O quibus, et quantis, et qualibet est viduata!

In hac, cum sit vidua, cunei Scotorum

Redigunt in cineres prædia multorum. 170

Willelmus de Wallia dux est indoctorum;

Gaudia stultorum cumulant augmenta dolorum.

Ad augmentum sceleris hactenus patrati,

Alnewyke dant ignibus viri scelerati;

Circumquaque cursitant velut incensati.

Electi pauci sunt, multi vero vocati.

Various Readings.—165. Luge nunc N., Sl. Northumbriæ, C. 1.—167. V., Bertram, Sum., Merlaii, C. 1. Vessy ... Borthram, C. 2.—168. in quantis, C. 2. es viduata, Sl.—169. In hanc, C. 1. hac, ergo vid. C. 2. In te cum sis, Sl.—170. in cinerem, Sl. Intrant et dant ignibus prædia proborum, C. 1.—172. cumulat ... malorum, C. 1.—173. augmenta, Sl.—174. Alnewik, C. 1. Alnewyk, Sl.

Multi quærunt mutuo qualiter sit factum,

Quod Newmonasterium non est igne tactum.

Dona spondent monachi, sed non solvunt pactum:

Sicut opus fuerat, sic res processit in actum. 180

Hujus rei gratia captivum ducerunt

Priorem cœnobii, quem tunc repererunt;

Captis rebus vacuas domos reliquerunt.

Munifici pauci, multi qui munera querunt.

Jam redit in Scotiam populus malignus;

Et Willelmo datum est militare pignus;

De prædone fit eques, ut de corvo cignus;

Accipit indignus sedem, cum non prope dignus.

Digno tandem principi litera præbetur,

In qua rei series tota continetur. 190

Various Readings.—177. sit actum, Sl.—178. Nōmonasterium ... sit, C. 2. Novummonasterium, Sl.—179. non tenent, C. 2.—180. ad actum, C. 2.—182. invenerunt, Sl.—183. domus, C. 2.—184. qui præmia, C. 1 and Sl.—185. suam petit patriam pop. C. 1. suam petunt pat. pop. Sl.—186. Et Wallensis accipit m. p. Sl. Et Wallensem accipit, C. 1.—188. quam non, C. 2. Si non, Sl.—189. Digno tamen, C. 1.

Si commotus fuerit, nullus admiretur:

Tranquillum nequit esse fretum, dum peste movetur.

Motus, suos milites sic cœpit affari:

“Adhuc vos pro patria decet præliari,—

Malo semel vincere, quam sæpe turbari:

Bella valent melius quam longa lite gravari,”

“Ne graveris,” inquiunt, “si Scotorum fures

Propriis capitibus acuant secures;

Unus Anglus perimet Scoticos quam plures.

Non est plaustelo barbati jungere mures.” 200

Vix est mure melior Walays, aut Gilmaurus,

Ad quorum victoriam nunquam crescet laurus;

Desunt enim robora, deestque thesaurus:

Bella movet citius cui desunt cornua taurus.

Various Readings.—191. Si turbatus, C. 1 and Sl.—193. Tunc rex suos, C. 1. affare, C. 2.—194. detur præliari.—195. Malo malos perdere, quam sic molestari, C. 2. Malos Scotos perdere, quam sic conturbari, Sl.—196. volunt melius, C. 1.—199. perimet totum sicut plures, C. 2. Unus nam Anglicus Scotos valet plures, Sl.—200. surgere mures, C. 2. mingere m. C. 1.—201. Vix est murus melior mari ait(?) Gilm. C. 1. melior Scotus Guilm. Sl.—202. Ad cujus vic. crescit, C. 1 and Sl. cresset, C. 2.

Bello cadunt miseri die Magdalenæ;

Fere centum millia subdit rex arenæ;

Cæsorum cadaverum pascuæ sunt plenæ.

Oderunt peccare mali formidine pœnæ.

Pœnæ metu territus tergum dat tyrannus,

Cuï quondam placuit decurtatus pannus; 210

Fallax die prælii fugit ut trutannus.

Sæpe dat una dies quod totus denegat annus.

Una die miseri multi perimuntur;

Et Scotos qui fugerant Angli persequuntur;

Perforantur lanceis, vestesque tolluntur.

Alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur.

Cadit, Waleys, tua laus, ut quid arma geris,

Ex quo gentem gladio tuam non tueris,

Various Readings.—207. cæsis cadaveribus, C. 2 and Sl.—210. cui quidem, Sl.—213. Illa die plurimi Scoti per. C. 1. plurimi pravi puniuntur, Sl.—214. Fugientes miseros Ang. per. C. 1. Fug. mis. Angl. prosequuntur, Sl.—216. vaticinia, Sl.—218. Ex quo tuum populum tuens non tueris, C. 1. Ex quo tuos gladio tutor non t. Sl.

Jus est ut dominio tuo jam priveris.

Ast michi qui quondam semper asellus eris. 220

Eris in proverbium quod non præteribit;

Regnum tuum scissum est, et stare nequibit;

Potum quem paraveras, gens tua jam bibit.

Deridens alios, non inderisus abibit.

O res apta risui, patens hiis diebus!

Fortuna sub variis ludet speciebus.

Profugus de principe, de Juda fit Jebus.

Ludit in humanis divina potentia rebus.

Rebus sic ruentibus rura rex rimatur,

Et fures a foveis fugando venatur; 230

Omnis qui repertus est, gladio mactatur:

Exigit hoc justum, quod culpam pœna sequatur.

Various Readings.—219. Jam tuo dominio jus est ut pri. C. 1. and Sl.—220. acellus, C. 2. In the Sl. MS. the song ends with this line. In C. 1, it ends with l. 232, the last twelve lines, however, being written by another and rather later hand. The rest is found only in C. 2.—221. scissum quod stare, C. 1.—226. ludis speciebus, C. 1.—227. Profugo sub p. ... Gebus, C. 1,—228. divinis, C. 1.—230. a foveis fugat vel ven. C. 2. Et suis, C. 1.

[Consequenter redit rex, ut Francorum florem

Margaretam reginam ducat in uxorem;

Per hanc regna capiunt pacem pleniorem.

Ira cædem generat, concordia nutrit amorem.

Amor inter principes pullulans præclaros

Exulat a subditis gemitus amaros;

Jamque fit per nuncios firma pax non raros;

Hiis etenim rebus conjungit gratia caros. 240

Justus est gratiæ Scotis pars pusilla,

Quia non est impiis pax aut mens tranquilla.

Comyn, Karryk, Umfraville erigunt vexilla:

Acrius invidia nichil est, nil nequius illa.

Nequam sponte natio non vult obedire;

Regem cogit inclitum cum suis redire;

Jam timent qui necligunt ad pacem venire,

Sub gladio diræ mortis languendo perire.

Deperirent protinus patres et hæredes;

Nisi darent citius ad currendum pedes, 250

Fugientes renuunt villulas et ædes:

Idæos lepores puer exagitat Ganymedes.

Inter hæc rex Franciæ, mittens absque mora,

Regem rogat Angliæ pro treuga decora.

Annuit rex precibus, mox reflectens lora:

Grata superveniet quæ non sperabitur hora

Horam Scotis optimam fore quis ignorat,

In qua cessat gladius a plebe quæ plorat,

Rexque suos proceres unit et honorat.

Dum calor est et pulcra dies, formica laborat. 260

Post hos et hujusmodi bellicos labores,

Angli velut angeli semper sunt victores,

Scoticis et Wallicis sunt præstantiores;

Si vitam inspicias hominum sidereus (?) mores.

Quasi sus insurgeret leonis virtuti,

Sic expugnant Angliam Scotici polluti:

Et rex illos idcirco subdet servituti:

Serviet æterno qui parvo nesciet uti.]

Translation.—I playing prepare a harp for those who desire to play; I set forth a wonderful matter concerning the malice of the world; I will tell nothing that is noxious, but will relate a historical incident; I write a new satire, yet let it not on that account sow anger.—Anger moves the minds of the soldiers of the present day, since the weak detract from the praise of the deeds of the strong; yet let not teeth of the detractors scare thee: if you live well, you need not care for what evil men say.—[If anger last, it turns into malice; malice if not restrained drives people into rage; rage shortens our days, by bringing us into anguish; anger breeds hatred, whilst concord nourishes love.—The love which was in the world is gone, and poison has taken its place; out of hatred has sprung no small plague; the homicide has raised his standard; nothing is sharper than envy, and nothing more wicked.—There is nothing more wicked than an envious man, as every one knows; for his unhappiness increases with the prosperity of his neighbour; he pines away by the very cause which brings profit to the just man. Unless the vessel be clean, whatever you pour in becomes soured.—In order, therefore, that the minds of the wicked may be soured, I will relate what I have learnt of the deeds of the English. Henceforward I will not fear the words of the envious. If you live well, you need not care for what evil men say.]—It is the property of wicked men always to say evil, to detract from the able, to respect the vile. I am unwilling that you should be disturbed by the fear of such men; it is praiseworthy in the prudent to be abused by the wicked.—For the wicked are displeased by rectitude of life: the law is injured in them, and they esteem strife as a joke. The repose of ribalds is inquietude; to attempt to convert fools is, as it were, to put cold iron on the anvil.—Every one strikes cold iron, who counsels the obstinate man to desert his sins; for the wise man says very sensibly, “he sows words in the wind who preaches to a madman.”—Every where are preached the fraudulent actions of the faithless men, who molest England by force of arms; the French, Scotch, and Welsh, whose power may the Omnipotent who holds the world repress!—May the Governor of the universe whom we address as God, who protected the Hebrew people through many difficulties, give the English victory over their enemies! The butler can furnish liquor to a thousand men.—As the butler at will gives drink to many, so the Lord gives strength at his will to those whom he has chosen; Edward the noble King knows this; and he labours to devote himself entirely to Christ.—Edward our King is entirely devoted to Christ; he is quick to pardon, and slow to vengeance; he puts to flight his adversaries like a leopard; the reputation of the fool stinks, the just man smells sweet as spikenard.—Like spikenard smells the fame of the King of the English, who represses the attempts of his enemies; him let all the enemies of the English fear: often the mastiff snatches the sheep from the wolves’ jaws.—In the wolves’ jaws the English have been of late; for, when all the turbulent chiefs of Wales were reduced, the Scotch raise their spears armed in their rags: a few years exhibit the wonderful fortune of John.—John being now King of Scotland, clement and chaste, governing the kingdom as though he had been bred a king, him at length the pride of his nation deposed. The first-created was an exile, driven from his pious seat.—He, however, was deservedly exiled, for, as I have read, he promised homage to the English King; afterwards he declined the verb frango (I break); by breaking all which I had promised, (said he,) I performed my agreement.—The aforesaid prince broke his promise, when he did not restrain the attempts of the wicked; a voice was heard in Rama, weeping and lamentation; a remiss master makes lazy servants.—By slack servants the King is dishonoured; holiness is overthrown, the law is made of no avail; there is frequent sedition, the peace is endangered. Cursed be the house, where every dependent is master!—When the dependant commands, and the prince is a servant, then the state is in danger, and quietness departs. O how many people impiety, when unpunished, injures! The impious man unpunished always thinks that he conquers.—The twelve rulers of Scotland thought that they could resist the great valour of the English; therefore many of them fell by the sword. Said the toad to the harrow, “cursed be so many rulers!”—Many rulers under such a diminutive leader conspire against the English, whilst the king was at peace; at length they meet with standards raised. Great rivers take their rise from a small fountain.—From small fountains great rivers arise; so it is with the wanton attempts of the people of Scotland. Many thereupon are led captives: whenever the kings run wild, it is the subjects who suffer.—The subject populace perished in battle at Dunbar, where the Scotch were slain by the flail of the English. You might see the carcases, as in the shambles of a seller of refuse meat, cut off from the kilted rabble.—The kilted people, numerous and savage, who are accustomed to detract from the Englishmen, fell at Dunbar, and now stink like a dog: thus do fools, who are tormented by vain glory.—Vain glory made the deceitful people deny the true lord of Scotland; but after the battle they seek peace. Sometimes fortune makes a wise man of a fool.—He is wise in battle who yields to his superior; but the wild people of Scotland soon break their faith. No one can take away what nature gave: the disease which is rooted in the bone, can seldom be expelled from the flesh.—The noble king departed, sparing so great a mass of populace; he traversed Scotland with a crowd of attendants. The English fortify castles, by the king’s command; for that hurts less which we have provided against.—The wars are governed by the king’s providence; the Scottish nobles are subdued to the English; judges are appointed, the laws are revised; for the laws themselves require to be regulated aright.—The king appointed a worthy man to the government of the kingdom, John de Warenne, whom he had often proved. He to the utmost of his power observed the laws; destroying the proud, he placed the humble in peace.—The king, after these things had been performed, returned in peace, preparing to aid gratuitously the Count of Flanders; he prepares a great fleet as quickly as he can; banish delay, to those who are prepared it is always injurious to procrastinate.—Nor was there any delay, for the cunning Scots meet together; with their hands on the gospels, they have said that from their station in the south they will not pass the Trent: little is owing to pleasure, more to safety.—The Scottish nobles all swear with alacrity, and their boundaries are limited to each by the king; see that they be not perjured, and fall into the net; for the poets sing wonderful things that are not to be believed.—Then the king, wonderfully credulous in them, passed the sea, and powerfully warred against the French in Flanders; unmindful of old age, he was not terrified by numbers. He flourishes by counsel, to whom nature has denied strength.—The Lord has not denied strength and vigour to the king, whom he ordained to be the flower of the world; whose acts excite everybody’s wonder; for his mind is capable of undergoing every labour.—A new labour arises; Satan is raised up; the fidelity of the Scots disappears entirely; the valour of the English is undeservedly set at nought. What everybody says, does not rest upon our opinion.—The abandoned scoffers hold mutual conversations; “Lo! triumphant garlands are given to the English. O William de Wallace! send us to them: arrows can penetrate the hard mail.—Let us call together all our archers; let us hasten together against the Guardian of Scotland. For it is right that we should fight for our country: we often see the conqueror overcome by the vanquished.”—Accordingly the Guardian of Scotland is very hard pressed; and the people assemble at Stirling, proud in spirit; treachery destroys the English, and they are on the brink of ruin: the end does not correspond with the beginning.—The Earl, who was leader of the English, first passed the bridge, penetrating boldly into the Scotish columns; but he was driven back by treachery, and not by the force of arms: fraud is often the cause of many evils.—Fraud caused the English to blush, whilst they saw on all sides the blood of their own people flowing; Levenax and Richard Lundi are convicted of fraud. How short is the joy, and how lasting the sorrow, of the world!—O perfidiousness of the world! who is not astonished by thee? Treachery lies hid, concealed among our household; the cunning man is always opposed to the peaceful; the shepherd leads his sheep with a staff, the wolf threatens them with his mouth.—What does the barbarous brutal and foolish race threaten? Will this perfidy remain unavenged? The King of England will come with open force, inquiring much about Priam and much about Hector.—The proud people raise a heap of evils for themselves, provoking the English to the bitter contest; words will cease, when the blows come; though you think you have finished entirely, there is a snake concealed in the grass.—[“The sun,” they say, “will not be concealed from us with his light; the time is come when the English will all fall by our hands; no one....” The Divine power plays with the prospects of men.—O power of God! I petition thee in favour of thy people! come with a propitious countenance to the aid of the English; judge the king’s cause, and give him grace: thou who art without beginning, do not let falseness triumph.]—After this the leader of the plot calls together his party, knowing that our king would be gone over the sea; he made an order to ravage Northumberland: “we oft see,” says he, “weeping after joy.”—Northumberland, much desolated, may weep! She is made as a widow robbed of her children. Vescy, Morley, Somerville, Bertram are dead: Alas! of how many, and how great men in every part is she widowed!—In her, since she is a widow, the troops of the Scots reduce the estates of many to cinders. William Wallace is the leader of these savages; the rejoicings of fools breed increase of griefs.—To increase the wickedness which they had hitherto perpetrated, these wicked men deliver Alnwick to the flames; they run about on every side like madmen. Few are chosen, but many are called.—Many ask each other how it happened, that the Newminster was not touched by the fire. The monks promise gifts, but they do not fulfil their promise: as there was need, so was the thing carried into effect.—On this account they led away captive the prior of the monastery, whom they then found; having carried away the goods, they left the houses empty. Few are munificent, but there are many who seek after gifts.—Now the malignant people returns to Scotland; and the honour of knighthood is given to William; from a robber he becomes a knight, just as a swan is made out of a raven; an unworthy man takes the seat, when a worthy man is not by.—At length a letter reaches the worthy prince, in which the whole course of events is told. Let nobody be surprized if he was enraged at it: the sea cannot be quiet when the storm rages.—In his anger he began thus to address his knights: “Again you must prepare to fight for your country. I would rather conquer once, than be often tormented; wars are better than being troubled with lasting strife.”—“Do not be troubled,” said they, “if the Scottish thieves sharpen axes for their own heads; one Englishman will slay very many Scots. It is not the part of a man who has a beard to join mice to a little cart.”—Wallace, or Gilmaurus, is scarcely better than a mouse, to whose victory the laurel will never grow; for they want strength and treasure: a bull who has lost his horns is the more eager for the war.—On St. Magdalen’s day the wretches fall in battle; the king subdues in the field near a hundred thousand; the meadows are covered with their carcases. The wicked hate sin from the fear of punishment.—Scared by the fear of punishment the tyrant turns his back, whom the short jacket once pleased; faithless in the day of battle he flies like a truant. One day often gives what the whole year denies.—In one day many wretches were slain; and the English pursue the Scots who had fled; they are transfixed with spears, and robbed of their clothes. The white thorns are cut down, while the black bilberries are gathered.—Wallace, thy reputation as a soldier is lost; since thou didst not defend thy people with the sword, it is just thou shouldst now be deprived of thy dominion.

But, in my view, thou wilt always be the ass thou wert formerly.—Thou wilt pass into a lasting proverb; thy kingdom is divided, and cannot stand; thy people now drink of the cup which thou hast prepared. He who turns others into derision, will not escape being derided.—O laughable thing, that has been manifested in our time! Fortune will play in various ways. The prince has been turned into an outcast, Judah into Jebus. The Divine power plays with the prospects of men.—Things being brought to this pass, the king searches the country, and hunts the thieves out of their hiding places; every one who is found is put to the sword: justice requires this, that the punishment come after the fault.—[Next the king returns, that he may marry Queen Margaret, the flower of the French; through her the kingdoms receive a more complete peace. Anger begets slaughter, concord nourishes love.—When love buds between great princes, it drives away bitter sobs from their subjects; and now a firm peace is negotiated by frequent messengers: for by these things grace makes people friends.—It is just that the Scots should have a small portion of grace, because the impious people have neither peace nor quiet of mind. Comyn, Carrick, Umfraville raise their standards: there is nothing more sharp than envy, nor more wicked.—The nation, voluntarily wicked, will not be obedient; it forces the illustrious king with his army to return; now they fear who neglect to come to peace, lest they perish languishingly by the sword of dire death.—Let them perish utterly both fathers and sons; unless they quickly give their feet to flight, flying they desert their towns and houses: the child Ganymedes drives about the hares on mount Ida.—In the midst of these transactions the King of France, sending without delay, asks an honourable truce of the King of England. The king accedes to his request, soon afterwards turning his reins: the grateful hour will arrive when it is least expected.—Who knows not that that would be the best hour for the Scots, in which the sword ceases from the weeping commonalty, and the king unites and honours the nobles. While it is warm and fair weather, the ant labours.—After all these warlike labours, the English like angels are always conquerors, they are more excellent than the Scotch and Welsh; you will learn people’s manners by contemplating their lives.—As though a swine should resist the valour of the lion, so the filthy Scots attack England; and the king for that reason reduces them to slavery: he will ever be a slave, who cannot be content with the little which Providence has given him.]

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The following verses seem to have been written immediately after John Baliol had retired to Normandy, in 1290. In the manuscript, they are accompanied by a picture representing a ship, full of people, passing the sea.

ON THE DEPOSITION OF BALIOL.

[From MS. Cotton. Julius, A. V. fol. 2, r^o. of beginning of 14th cent.]

Ecce dies veniunt Scoti sine principe fiunt;

Regnum Balliolus perdit, transit mare solus.

Defendi bello Scotus mucrone novello

Sperans Gallorum, vires expectat eorum.

De gwerra tuti Gallorum viribus uti

Congaudent Scoti; currunt ad prælia moti.

Gallia de parvo Scoto profecit in arvo.

Cur in conflictu Scotus ter corruit ictu?

Conflictu quarto Scoti ponuntur in arto:

Quales sunt et erunt, carmina plura ferunt,

Carmina qui didicit Trojam per prælia vicit,

Ovidius docuit quæ sibi causa fuit.

Percussis bellis, sterilis fit Troja puellis;

Finitis motis, sic fiet Scotia Scotis.

Vastantur gwerra Trojani, de prope terra

Castrorum plena, cum finibus est aliena.

Urbibus et villis proles dominatur Achillis;

Pyrrhus vastat eas, Priamum ploravit Æneas.

Merlinus scribit quod turba superba peribit;

Latrans exibit canis, et bos profugus ibit.

Tunc nemus Eutherium pennata fronde carebit;

Et genus Albaneum sua regna perire videbit.

Scote miser, plora, tibi flendi jam venit hora;

Nam regnum patruum desinet esse tuum.

Principe privaris, campo sic subpeditaris,

Quod meritis miseris semper asellus eris.

Vox de profundis Cambini te vocat undis,

Torquendum clade, quam non novit genus Adæ.

Illuc tende vias, et dæmonis assecla fias!

Amplius Andreas ducere nescit eas.

Translation.—Lo! the time is come when the Scots are without a prince; Baliol loses the kingdom, and passes the sea alone. The Scot, hoping to be defended in battle by the new spear of the French, is waiting for their power. The Scots rejoice together in the belief that they will have the better in the war by the aid of the French; they rebel, and haste to fight. France will profit little the Scot in the field. Why has the Scot been beaten in three battles? By the fourth battle the Scots are reduced to extremities: such as they are and will ever be, very many songs tell. He who learnt songs conquered Troy in battle; Ovid has told us what was the cause of it. After the war, Troy was barren of maidens; when the rebellion is over, so will Scotland be of Scots. Troy is ravaged by war, the land near about being full of camps, it is with its boundaries become the property of another. The son of Achilles rules over the cities and towns; Pyrrhus lays them waste, Æneas has wept for Priam. Merlin writes that the proud crowd shall perish; the barking dog shall depart, and the ox shall go into exile. Then shall the Eutherian grove be stripped of its feathered branches; and the Albanian race will see their kingdom perish. Wretched Scot, lament, thy hour of weeping is now come; for the kingdom of thy forefathers ceases to be thine. Thou art deprived of a prince, and art so trodden down in the field, that by thy ill merits thou wilt always be an ass. A voice from the bottom of the Cambine waters calls thee, to be punished with such slaughter as the race of Adam has not yet seen. Hasten thither, and become the companion of the devil! Andrew will no longer be their leader.

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The general hatred to the Scots did not hinder the people from feeling grieved by the heavy taxes which were raised to support the war, and more particularly the expeditions into Flanders, (which latter were ill managed, and produced no results,) or from showing their dissatisfaction. The King’s measures of ambition were often thwarted by the stern opposition of the barons and the commons. The following song was directed more particularly against the unconstitutional seizure of wool, and generally against all the taxes raised for the Flemish war.

SONG AGAINST THE KING’S TAXES.

[MS. Harl. No. 2253, fol. 137, v^o, written in reign of Edw. II.]

Dieu, roy de magesté, ob personas trinas,

Nostre roy e sa meyné ne perire sinas;

Grantz mals ly fist aver gravesque ruinas,

Celi qe ly fist passer partes transmarinas.

Rex ut salvetur, falsis maledictio detur!

Roy ne doit à feore de gere extra regnum ire,

For si la commune de sa terre velint consentire:

Par tresoun voit honme sovent quam plures perire;

A quy en fier seurement nemo potest scire.

Non eat ex regno rex sine consilio.

Ore court en Engletere de anno in annum

Le quinzyme dener, pur fere sic commune dampnum.

E fet avaler que soleyent sedere super scamnum;

E vendre fet commune gent vaccas, vas, et pannum.

Non placet ad summum quindenum sic dare nummum.

Une chose est countre foy, unde gens gravatur,

Que la meyté ne vient al roy, in regno quod levatur.

Pur ce qu’il n’ad tot l’enter, prout sibi datur,

Le pueple doit le plus doner, et sic sincopatur.

Nam quæ taxantur, regi non omnia dantur.

Unquore plus greve à simple gent collectio lanarum,

Que vendre fet communement divitias earum.

Ne puet estre que tiel consail constat Deo carum,

Issi destrure le poverail pondus per amarum,

Non est lex sana, quod regi sit mea lana.

Uncore est plus outre peis, ut testantur gentes,

En le sac deus pers ou treis per vim retinentes.

A quy remeindra cele leyne? quidam respondentes,

Que jà n’avera roy ne reygne, sed tantum colligentes.

Pondus lanarum tam falsum constat amarum.

Depus que le roy vodera tam multum cepisse,

Entre les riches si purra satis invenisse;

E plus, à ce que m’est avys, et melius fecisse

Des grantz partie aver pris, et parvis pepercisse.

Qui capit argentum sine causa peccat egentum.

Honme ne doit à roy retter talem pravitatem,

Mès al maveis consiler per ferocitatem.

Le roy est jeovene bachiler, nec habet ætatem,

Nule malice compasser, sed omnem probitatem.

Consilium tale dampnum confert generale.

Rien greve les grantz graunter regi sic tributum;

Les simples deyvent tot doner, contra Dei nutum.

Cest consail n’est mye bien, sed vitiis pollutum;

Ceux que grauntent ne paient ren, est male constitutum.

Nam concedentes nil dant regi, sed egentes.

Coment fra honme bon espleit ex pauperum sudore,

Que les riches esparnyer doit, dono vel favore?

Des grantz um le dust lever, Dei pro timore;

Le pueple plus esparnyer, qui vivit in dolore.

Qui satis es dives, non sic ex paupere vives.

Je voy en siècle qu’ore court gentes superbire,

D’autre biens tenir grant court, quod cito vult transire.

Quant vendra le haut juggement, magna dies iræ,

S’il ne facent amendement, tunc debent perire.

Rex dicit reprobis, “ite:”—“venite,” probis.

Dieu, que fustes coronée cum acuta spina,

De vostre pueple eiez pitée gratia divina!

Que le siècle soit aleggée de tali ruina!

A dire grosse veritée est quasi rapina.

Res inopum capta, nisi gratis, est quasi rapta.

Tel tribut à nul feor diu nequit durare;

Devoyde qy puet doner, vel manibus tractare?

Gentz sunt à tiel meschief quod nequeunt plus dare;

Je me doute, s’ils ussent chief, quod vellent levare.

Sæpe facit stultas gentes vacuata facultas.

Yl y a tant escarceté monetæ inter gentes,

Qe honme puet en marché, quam parci sunt ementes,

Tot eyt honme drap ou blée, porcos vel bidentes,

Rien lever en verité, tam multi sunt egentes.

Gens non est læta, cum sit tam parca moneta.

Si le roy freyt moun consail, tunc vellem laudare,

D’argent prendre le vessel, monetamque parare;

Mieu valdreit de fust ma[n]ger, pro victu nummos dare,

Qe d’argent le cors servyr, et lignum pacare.

Est vitii signum pro victu solvere lignum.

Lur commissiouns sunt trochiers qui sunt ultra mare;

Ore lur terres n’ount povers eosdem sustentare.

Je ne say coment purrount animas salvare,

Que d’autrui vivre voderount, et propria servare.

Non dubitant pœnas cupientes res alienas.

Dieu pur soun seintime noun, confundat errores,

E ceux que pensent fere tresoun, et pacis turbatores!

E vengaunce en facez ad tales vexatores!

E confermez e grantez inter reges amores!

Perdat solamen qui pacem destruit! Amen.

Translation.—O God, king of majesty, for the sake of the Trinity,—do not permit our king and his household to perish;—great hurt and great ruin he caused him to have,—who made him pass over the sea.—In order that the king may prosper, may his false advisers be accursed.

A king ought not to go out of his kingdom to make war,—unless the commons of his land will consent:—by treason we often see very many perish;—no one can tell in whom to trust with certainty.—Let not the king go out of his kingdom without counsel.

Now goes in England from year to year—the fifteenth penny, to do thus a common harm.—And it makes them go down, who used to sit upon a bench;—and it obliges the common people to sell both cows, vessels, and clothes.—It does not please thus to pay the fifteenth to the last penny.

One thing is against faith, whereby the people is aggrieved,—that the half of what is raised in the kingdom does not come to the king.—Since he has not the whole, as it is given to him,—the people is obliged to give the more, and thus they are cut short.—For the taxes which are raised are not all given to the king.

The collecting of the wool grieves the common people still more,—which drives them commonly to sell their property.—Such counsel cannot be acceptable to God,—thus to destroy the poor people by a bitter burthen.—It is not sound law, which gives my wool to the king.

What is still more contrary to peace, as people witness,—they retain two or three parts in the sack.—To whom shall remain this wool? Some answer,—that neither king nor queen shall have it, but only the collectors.—Such a false weight of wool is manifestly a bitter thing.

Since the king is determined to take so much,—he may find enough among the rich and he would get more and do better, as it appears to me,—to have taken a part from the great, and to have spared the little.—He sins who takes the money of the needy without cause.

We ought not to lay such wickedness to the charge of the king,—but to the bad counsellor, by his rapacity. The king is a young bachelor, and is not of an age—to compass any malice, but to do all probity.—Such counsel does general harm.

It is no trouble to the great thus to grant to the king a tax; the simple must pay it all, which is contrary to God’s will.—This counsel is not at all good, but polluted with vice;—it is ill ordained, that those who grant should pay nothing.—For those who make the grant give nothing to the king, it is the needy only who give.

How will they perform good deeds out of the sweat of the poor,—whom the rich ought to spare, by gift or favour?—they ought to tax the great, for the fear of God;—and spare more the people, who live in pain.—Thou who art rich enough, live not thus upon the poor.

I see at the present day how people are proud,—with other people’s goods they hold great court, which will quickly pass.—When the high judgment comes, the great day of wrath,—unless they make atonement, they must then perish.—The King says to the bad, “Go:” to the good, “Come.”

O God, who wast crowned with the sharp thorn,—have pity with divine grace upon thy people!—May the world be comforted of such ruin!—To tell unvarnished truth, it is mere robbery.—The property of the poor taken without their will, is as it were stolen.

Such tribute can in no manner last long;—out of emptiness who can give, or touch anything with his hands.—People are reduced to such ill plight, that they can give no more;—I fear, if they had a leader, they would rise in rebellion.—Loss of property often makes people fools.

There is so much scarcity of money among people,—that people can in the market, there are so few buyers,—although they may have cloth or corn, swine or sheep,—make nothing of them, in truth, there are so many needy people.—The people is not joyful, when money is so scarce.

If the king would take my advice, I would praise him then,—to take the vessels of silver, and make money of them;—it would be better to eat out of wood, and to give money for victuals—than to serve the body with silver, and pay with wood.—It is a sign of vice, to pay for victuals with wood.

The commissions of those who are employed over sea are too dear;—now the poor have not their lands to sustain the same.—I do not know how they can save their souls,—who would live upon other people’s goods, and save their own.—They cannot doubt but they will be punished, who covet the property of others.

May God, for the sake of his holy name, confound errors,—and those who meditate treason, and the disturbers of the peace!—and take vengeance on such tormentors!—and confirm and grant love between the kings!—May he lose consolation who breaks the peace! Amen.

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Although the English people were grieved by the King’s expensive and ill-conducted foreign wars, yet they were not wanting in commiseration for the Flemish burghers in their struggle against France. The song which follows was composed soon after the battle of Courtrai, in which the Comte d’Artois and his army were defeated and destroyed by the Flemings in 1302.

SONG ON THE FLEMISH INSURRECTION.

[MS. Harl. No. 2253, fol. 73, v^o. of reign of Edw. II.]

Lustneth, lordinges, bothe ȝonge ant olde,

Of the Freynsshe-men that were so proude ant bolde,

Hou the Flemmysshe-men bohten hem ant solde

upon a Wednesday.

Betere hem were at home in huere londe,

Then for te seche Flemmysshe by the see stronde,

Wharethourh moni Frenshe wyf wryngeth hire honde,

ant singeth, weylaway!

The Kyng of Fraunce made statuz newe

In the lond of Flaundres, among false ant trewe,

That the commun of Bruges ful sore con a-rewe,

ant seiden amonges hem,

“Gedere we us togedere hardilyche at ene,

Take we the bailifs by tuenty ant by tene,

Clappe we of the hevedes an oven o the grene,

ant caste we y the fen.”

The webbes ant the fullaris assembleden hem alle,

Ant makeden huere consail in huere commune halle;

Token Peter Conyng huere kyng to calle,

ant beo huere cheventeyn.

Hue nomen huere rouncyns out of the stalle,

Ant closeden the toun withinne the walle;

Sixti baylies ant ten hue maden a-doun falle,

ant moni another sweyn.

Tho wolde the baylies, that were come from Fraunce,

Dryve the Flemisshe that made the destaunce;

Hue turnden hem aȝeynes with suerd ant with launce,

stronge men ant lyht.

Y telle ou for sothe, for al huere bobaunce,

Ne for the avowerie of the Kyng of Fraunce,

Tuenti score ant fyve haden ther meschaunce

by day ant eke by nyht.

Sire Jakes de Seint Poul y-herde hou hit was;

Sixtene hundred of horsmen asemblede o the gras;

He wende toward Bruges pas pur pas,

with swithe gret mounde.

The Flemmysshe y-herden telle the cas;

A-gynneth to clynken huere basyns of bras,

Ant al hem to-dryven ase ston doth the glas,

ant fellen hem to grounde.

Sixtene hundred of horsmen hede ther here fyn;

Hue leyȝen y the stretes y-styked ase swyn;

Ther hue loren huere stedes, ant mony rouncyn,

thourh huere oune prude.

Sire Jakes ascapede by a coynte gyn,

Out at one posterne ther me solde wyn,

Out of the fyhte hom to ys yn,

in wel muchele drede.

Tho the Kyng of Fraunce y-herde this, anon

Assemblede he is dousse pers everuchon,

The proude Eorl of Artoys ant other mony on,

to come to Paris.

The barouns of Fraunce thider conne gon,

Into the paleis that paved is with ston,

To jugge the Flemmisshe to bernen ant to slon,

thourh the flour-de-lis.

Thenne seide the Kyng Philip, “Lustneth nou to me,

Myn eorles ant my barouns gentil ant fre,

Goth, faccheth me the tray tours y-bounde to my kne,

hastifliche ant blyve.”

Tho suor the Eorl of Seint Poul, “Par la goule Dé!

We shule facche the rybaus wher thi wille be,

Ant drawen hem [with] wilde hors out of the countré,

by thousendes fyve.”

“Sire Rauf Devel,” sayth the Eorl of Boloyne,

“Nus ne lerrum en vie chanoun ne moyne,

Wende we forth anon ritht withoute eny assoygne,

ne no lyves man.

We shule flo the Conyng, ant make roste is loyne;

The word shal springen of him into Coloyne,

So hit shal to Acres ant into Sesoyne,

ant maken him ful wan.”

Sevene eorles ant fourti barouns y-tolde,

Fiftene hundred knyhtes proude ant swythe bolde,

Sixti thousent swyers amonge ȝunge ant olde,

Flemmisshe to take.

The Flemmisshe hardeliche hem come to-ȝeynes;

This proude Freinsshe eorles, huere knyhtes, ant huere sweynes

A-quelleden ant slowen by hulles ant by pleynes,

al for huere kynges sake.

This Frenshe come to Flaundres so liht so the hare;

Er hit were mydnyht hit fel hem to care;

Hue were laht by the net so bryd is in snare,

with rouncin ant with stede.

The Flemmisshe hem dabbeth o the het bare;

Hue nolden take for huem raunsoun ne ware;

Hue doddeth of huere hevedes, fare so hit fare,

ant thareto haveth hue nede.

Thenne seith the Eorl of Artois, “Y ȝelde me to the,

Peter Conyng by thi nome, ȝef thou art hende ant free,

That y ne have no shame ne no vylté,

that y ne be noud ded.”

Thenne swor a bocher, “By my leauté!

Shalt thou ner more the Kyng of Fraunce se,

Ne in the toun of Bruges in prisone be,

thou woldest spene bred.”

Ther by were knulled y the put-falle,

This eorles ant barouns ant huere knyhtes alle;

Huere ledies huem mowe abide in boure ant in halle

wel longe.

For hem mot huere kyng other knyhtes calle,

Other stedes taken out of huere stalle:

Ther hi habbeth dronke bittrere then the galle,

upon the drue londe.

When the Kyng of Fraunce y-herde this tydynge,

He smot doun is heved, is honden gon he wrynge.

Thourhout al Fraunce the word bygon to springe;

wo wes huem tho!

Muche wes the sorewe ant the wepinge

That wes in al Fraunce among olde ant ȝynge:

The meste part of the lond bygon for te synge

“alas! ant weylawo!”

Awey thou ȝunge pope! whet shal the to rede?

Thou hast lore thin cardinals at thi meste nede;

Ne keverest thou hem nevere for nones kunnes mede,

for sothe y the telle.

Do the forth to Rome to amende thi misdede;

Bide gode halewen hue lete the betere spede:

Bote thou worche wysloker, thou losest lont ant lede,

the coroune wel the felle.

Alas! thou seli Fraunce, for the may thunche shome,

That are fewe fullaris maketh ou so tome;

Sixti thousent on a day hue maden fot lome,

with eorl ant knyht.

Herof habbeth the Flemysshe suithe god game,

Ant suereth bi Seint Omer ant eke bi Seint Jame,

Ȝef hy ther more cometh, hit falleth huem to shame,

with huem for te fyht.

I tell ou for sothe, the bataille thus bigon

Bituene Fraunce ant Flaundres, hou hue weren fon;

Vor Vrenshe the eorl of Flaundres in prison heden y-don,

with tresoun untrewe.

Ȝe[f] the Prince of Walis his lyf habbe mote,

Hit falleth the Kyng of Fraunce bittrore then the sote;

Bote he the rathere therof welle do bote,

wel sore hit shal hym rewe.

Translation.—Listen, Lordings, both young and old,—of the Frenchmen that were so proud and bold,—how the Flemmish men bought and sold them—upon a Wednesday.—Better it had been for them at home in their country,—than to seek Flemings by the sea-strand,—through which many a French woman wrings her hands,—and sings, weladay!

The King of France made new statutes—in the land of Flanders, among false and true,—that the commons of Bruges full sorely began to rue,—and said amongst themselves,—“Let us assemble together boldly in the evening,—let us take the bailiffs by twenties and by tens,—let us clap off their heads above on the green,—and let us cast them in the fen.”

The weavers and the fullers assembled them all,—and held their council in their common hall,—they took Peter Conyng to be called their king,—and to be their chieftain.—They took their horses out of the stable,—and closed the town within the wall;—seventy bailiffs they made down fall,—and many another man.

Then would the bailiffs that were come from France—drive out the Flemings who made the disturbance;—but they turned against them with sword and with lance,—strong men and nimble.—I tell you for truth, in spite of their vaunting,—and in spite of the patronage of the King of France,—four hundred and five had there mischance—by day and also by night.

Sir Jacques de St. Paul heard how it was:—he assembled sixteen hundred knights on the grass;—they went towards Bruges step by step,—with a very great body of people.—The Flemings heard tell of the case; they begin to clink their basins of brass,—and they break them all to pieces as a stone does glass,—and fell them to the ground.

Sixteen hundred knights had there their end;—they lay in the streets stuck like swine;—there they lost their steeds, and many a horse,—through their own pride;—Sir Jacques escaped by a cunning contrivance,—out at a postern where they sold wine,—out of the fight home to his lodging,—in very great fear.

When the King of France heard this, anon—he assembled his douze peers every one,—the proud Comte d’Artois and others many a one,—to come to Paris.—The barons of France began to go thither,—into the palace that is paved with stone,—to judge the Flemings to be burnt and slain,—through the fleur-de-lis.

Then said King Philip, “Listen now to me,—my earls and my barons gentle and free,—go, fetch me the traitors in bonds to my knees,—hastily and quickly.”—Then swore the Comte de Saint Paul, “By the throat of God!—we shall fetch the ribalds wherever it be thy will,—and draw them with wild horses out of the country—by five-thousands.”

“Sir Ralf Devel,” says the Comte de Bologne,—“we will not leave alive either canon or monk,—let us go forth anon right without any excuse,—nor no man alive (?).—We shall flay the Conyng (rabbit), and cause his loins to be roasted;—the fame of him shall spring as far as Cologne,—so shall it to Acre and into Saxony,—and make them full pale.”

Seven counts and forty barons in number,—fifteen hundred knights proud and very bold,—sixty thousand squires what with young and old,—to take the Flemings.—The Flemings boldly came against them;—these proud French comtes, their knights, and their men—they killed and slew over the hills and the plains,—all for their King’s sake.

These French came to Flanders as light as the hare;—before it was midnight there fell upon them care;—they were caught in the net as a bird is in the snare,—with horse and with steed.—The Flemings dab them on the bare head;—they will take for them neither ransom nor pay;—they dod off their heads, happen what may,—and thereto have they need.

Then saith the Comte d’Artois, “I yield me to thee,—Peter Conyng by name, if thou art gentle and free,—that I may suffer no shame nor disgrace,—and that I may not be slain.”—Then swore a butcher, “By my loyalty!—thou shalt never more see the King of France,—nor be in prison in the town of Bruges,—thou wouldest consume bread.”

There they were heaped into the pit-full,—these counts and barons and all their knights;—their ladies may wait for them in bower and in hall—very long.—In their place must their king call other knights,—and take other steeds out of their stables:—there they have drunk bitterer than gall,—upon the dry land.

When the King of France heard these tidings,—he cast down his head, his hands he began to wring.—Throughout all France the news began to spread;—woe was to them all!—Much was the sorrow and the weeping—that was in all France among old and young;—The greatest part of the land began to sing,—“Alas! and welaway!”

Away, thou young pope! what will be thy counsel?—Thou hast lost thy cardinals at thy greatest need;—thou wilt never recover them for any kind of reward,—for truth I tell thee.—Go forth to Rome to atone for thy misdeeds;—pray to good saints that they let thee speed better:—unless thou workest more wisely, thou losest land and people,—the crown fell well to the. (?)

Alas! thou simple France, it may appear a shame for thee,—that a few fullers make thee so tame;—sixty thousand in a day they made trip quickly, (?)—with count and knight.—Thereof have the Flemings very good game,—and swear by St. Omer and eke by St. James,—if they come there any more, it will fall them to shame,—with them to fight.

I tell you for truth, the battle thus begun,—between France and Flanders, how they were foes;—for the French had put the Count of Flanders in prison,—with treason faithlessly.—If the Prince of Wales his life might have,—it will happen to the King of France more bitter than soot;—unless he before-hand do make good amends for it,—very sorely he shall rue it.

---

The following song seems to have been popular about the beginning of the fourteenth century. The wolf and the fox pourtray exactly the characters of the two classes of people who then oppressed and plundered the middle and lower classes.

A SONG ON THE TIMES.

[MS. Harl. No. 913, fol. 44, v^o. written about A.D. 1308.]

Whose thenchith up this carful lif,

Niȝte and dai that we beth inne,

So moch we seeth of sorow and strif,

And lite ther is of worldis winne,

Hate and wreth ther is wel rive,

And trew love is ful thinne:

Men that beth in heiiȝist live

Mest i-charged beth with sinne.

Fals and lither is this lond,

As al dai we mai i-se:

Therin is bothe hate and onde,—

Ic wene that ever so wol be.

Coveitise hath the law an honde,

That the trewthe he ne mai i-se:

Nou is maister pride and onde;—

Alas! Loverde, whi suffrith he?

Wold holi cherch pilt is miȝte,

And law of lond pilt him to;

Than scholde coveitise and un-riȝte

Ute of lond ben y-do.

Holi cherch schold hold is riȝt

For no eie no for no love;

That hi ne schold schow har miȝt

For lordingen boste that beth above.

To entredite and amonsi

Al thai, whate hi evir be,

That lafful men doth robbi,

Whate in lond what in see;

And thos hoblurs, namelich,

That husbond benimeth eri of grund;

Men ne schold ham biri in non chirch,

Bot cast ham ute as a hund.

Thos kingis ministris beth i-schend,

To riȝt and law that ssold tak hede,

And al the lond for t’ amend,

Of thos thevis hi taketh mede.

Be the lafful man to deth i-broȝt,

And his catel awei y-nom;

Of his deth ne tellith hi noȝt,

Bot of har prei hi hab som.

Hab hi the silver, and the mede,

And the catel under-fo,

Of feloni hi ne taketh hede,

Al thilk trepas is a-go.

Of thos a vorbisen ic herd telle;

The Lion is king of all beeste,

And—herknith al to mi spelle—

In his lond he did an heste.

The Lyon lete cri, as hit was do,

For he hird lome to telle;

And eke him was i-told also

That the wolf didde noȝte welle.

And the fox, that lither grome,

With the wolf, i-wreiid was;

To-for har lord hi schold come,

To amend har trepas.

And so men didde that seli asse,

That trepasid noȝt, no did no gilte,

With ham bothe i-wreiid was,

And in the ditement was i-pilt.

The voxe hird amang al menne,

And told the wolf with the brode crune;

That on him send gees and henne,

That other geet and motune.

The seli aasse wend was saf,

For he ne eete noȝt bote grasse;

None ȝiftes he ne ȝaf,

No wend that no harm nasse.

Tho hi to har lord com to tune,

He told to ham law and skille;

Thos wikid bestis luid a-dune,

“Lord,” hi seiid, “what is thi wille?”

Tho spek the Lion hem to,

To the fox anone his wille,—

“Tel me, boi, what hast i-do?

Men beth aboute the to spille.”

Tho spek the fox first anone,

“Lord King, nou thi wille;

Thos men me wreiith of the tune,

And wold me gladlich for to spille.—

Gees no hen nad ic noȝt,

Sire, for soth ic the sigge,

Bot as ic ham dere boȝt,

And bere ham up myn owen rigge.”

”Godis grame most hi have,

That in the curte the so pilt!

Whan hit is so, ich vouchsave,

Ic forȝive the this gilte.”

The fals wolf stode behind;

He was doggid and ek felle:—

“Ic am i-com of grete kind,

Pes thou graunt me, that miȝt ful welle.”

“What hast i-do, bel amy,

That thou me so oxist pes?”

“Sire,” he seid, “I nel noȝt lie,

If thou me woldist hire a res.

For ic huntid up the doune,

To loke, Sire, mi biȝete;

Ther ic slow a motune,

Ȝe, Sir, and fewe gete.

Ic am i-wreiid, Sire, to the,

For that ilk gilt;—

Sire, ichul sker me,

I ne ȝef ham dint no pilt.”

“For soth I sigge the, bel ami,

Hi nadde no gode munde,

Thai that wreiid the to mei,

Thou ne diddist noȝt bot thi kund.—

Sei thou me, asse, wat hast i-do?

Me thenchith thou cannist no gode.

Whi nadistou, as other mo?

Thou come of lither stode.”

“Sertis, Sire, not ic noȝt;

Ic ete sage alnil gras,—

More harm ne did ic noȝt;

Therfor i-wreiid ic was.”

“Bel ami, that was mis-do,

That was aȝe thi kund,

For to ete such gras so:—

Hastilich ȝe him bind;

Al his bonis ȝe to-draw,

Loke that ȝe noȝt lete;

And that ic ȝive al for lawe,

That his fleis be al i-frette.”—

Also hit farith nou in lond,

Whose wol tak therto hede:

Of thai that habbith an hond,

Of thevis hi takith mede.

The lafful man ssal be i-bund,

And i-do in strang pine,

And i-hold in fast prisund,

Fort that he mak fine.

And the thef to skap so,

That doth ever aȝe the riȝt.

God take hede therto,

That is al ful of miȝt!

Thus farith al the world nuthe,

As we mai al i-se,

Both est and west, north and suthe;

God us help and the Trinité!

Trewth is i-faillid with fremid and sibbe,

And so wide as al this lond

Ne mai no man therin libbe,

What throȝ coveitise and throȝ onde.

Thoȝ lafful man wold hold is lif

In love, in charité, and in pes,

Sone me ssul compas is lif,

And that in a litil res.

Prude is maister and coveitise,

The thrid brother men clippith ond;

Niȝt and dai he fondith i-wisse

Lafful men, to hab har lond.

Whan erth hath erthe i-gette

And of erthe so hath i-nouȝ,

Whan he is therin i-stekke,

Wo is him that was in wouȝ!

What is the gode that man ssal hab,

Ute of this world whan he ssal go?

A sori wed,—whi ssal ic gab?—

For he broȝt him no mo.

Riȝt as he com, he ssal wend,

In wo, in pine, in poverté;—

Takith gode hede, men, to ȝure end,

For as I sigge, so hit wol be.

Y not wharof beth men so prute;

Of erthe and axen, felle and bone?

Be the soule enis ute,

A vilir caraing nis ther non.

The caraing is so lolich to see,

That under erth men mot it hide;

Bothe wif and child wol fram him fle,

Ther nis no frend that wol him bide.

What wol men for the sowle del?

Corne no mel, wel thou wost;

Bot wel seld at the mele

A rowȝ bare trenchur, other a crust.

The begger that the crust ssal hab,

Wel hokerlich he lokith theran:

Soth to sigge, and noȝt to gabbe,

Riȝt noȝt he is i-paiid a pan.

Than seiith the begger in is mode,

“The crust is bothe hard and tougth,

The wreche was hard that ow the gode,

Hard for hard is gode y-nowȝ.”

Moch misanter that for him bidde

Pater noster other crede;

Bot let him hab as he didde,

For of the ȝift nath he no mede.

Ic red up no man thou hab triste.

No uppon non other;

Ok del hit with ȝure owen fist,

Trist to soster no brother.

Anurith God and holi chirch,

And ȝiveth the pouir that habbith nede;

So Godis wille ȝe ssul wirche,

And joi of heven hab to mede.

To whoch joi us bring

Jhesus Crist heven king! Amen.

Translation.—Whoso reflecteth upon this life which is full of care,—night and day that we are in,—so much we see of sorrow and strife,—and little there is of world’s joy.—Hate and wrath there is very rife,—and true love is very rare:—men who are in the highest station of life,—are most laden with sin.

False and wicked is this land,—as every day we may see:—in it there is both hate and contention,—I think it will always be so.—Covetousness hath the law in hand,—that he may not see the truth:—Now pride is master, and contention;—Alas! Lord! why suffereth he?

If holy church would exert its might,—and the law of the land exert it too;—then should covetousness and injustice—out of the land be driven.—Holy church should withhold its right—for no fear nor for no love;—that they should not show their might—for the boast of lordings that are above.

To interdict and admonish—all those, whatever they be,—who lawful men do rob,—whether on the land or on the sea;—and those hoblers in particular,—that take from the husbandman the tillage of the ground;—men ought not to bury them in any church,—but to throw them out like a dog.

Those king’s ministers are corrupted,—that should take heed to right and law,—and all the land for to amend,—of these thieves they take bribe.—If the man who acts lawfully is brought to death,—and his property taken away;—of his death they make no account,—but of their prey they have a share.

If they have the silver and the bribe—and the property received,—they take no heed of felony,—every trespass is allowed to pass.—Of these a parable I heard tell;—the Lion is king of all beasts,—and (hearken all to my tale)—in his land he made a command.

The Lion caused to be proclaimed, as it was done,—for he heard frequently tell;—and eke it was told him also—that the wolf did not well.—And the fox, that wicked fellow,—with the wolf was accused;—before their lord they must come,—to make amends for their trespass.

And so men did [accuse] the simple ass,—that trespassed not, nor did any crime,—with them both he was accused,—and in the indictment was put.—The fox heard [talk of it] among all men,—and told the wolf with the broad crown;—the one sent to him [the Lion] geese and hens,—the other kids and mutton.

The simple ass thought he was safe,—for he eat nothing but grass;—no gifts he gave,—nor suspected that there was any harm.—When they came in the presence of their Lord,—he counted out to them law and reason;—these wicked beasts laid themselves down [prostrate],—“Lord,” said they, “what is thy will?”

Then spake the Lion to them,—to the fox in the first place [he declared] his will,—“Tell me, fellow, what hast thou done?—Men are about thee to ruin.”—Then spake the fox first,—“Lord King, now thy will;—these men accuse me of the town,—and would gladly ruin me.

“Gees nor hen had I not,—Sire, for truth I tell thee,—but as I bought them dearly,—and bore them upon my own back.”—“God’s anger may they have,—that in the court so placed thee!—Since it is so, I vouchsafe,—I forgive thee this guilt.”

The false wolf stood behind;—he was dogged and eke fell:—“I am come of a great race,—grant thou me peace, who may full well.”—“What hast thou done, fair friend,—that thou so askest me peace?”—“Sire,” he said, “I will not lie,—if thou wouldst hear me a little while.

“For I hunted up the downs,—to look, Sire, after my gain;—There I slew a mutton,—yea, Sire, and a few kids.—I am accused, sire, to thee,—for that same crime;—Sire, I shall clear myself,—I gave them neither blow nor hurt.”

“For truth I tell thee, fair friend,—they had no good mind,—they who accused thee to me,—thou didst nothing but thy nature.—Tell thou me, ass, what hast thou done?—Methinks thou art capable of no good.—Why haddest thou not [done] as others more?—thou art come of wicked place.”

“Certes, Sire, I know not;—I eat sage and only grass,—more harm did I not;—therefore was I accused.”—“Fair friend, that was misdone,—that was against thy nature,—for to eat such grass so:—hastily ye him bind;

“Draw ye all his bones to pieces,—look that ye do not fail;—and that I give all for law,—that his flesh be all torn to pieces.”—Thus it fares now in the land,—whoever will take heed thereto:—of they that have in hand,—of thieves they take gifts.

The man who acts according to law shall be bound,—and condemned to strong pain,—and held in fast prison,—until he pays a fine.—And the thief to escape so,—that acts ever against the right!—God take heed thereto,—who is all full of might!

Thus fares all the world now,—as we may all see,—both east and west, north and south;—God and the Trinity help us!—Truth is failed with stranger and relation,—and as wide as all this land—no man can live therein,—what through covetousness and through contention.

Though the man who acts according to law would hold his life—in love, in charity, and in peace,—soon they will compass his life,—and that in a little space of time.—Pride is master and covetousness—the third brother is called contention;—night and day they labour certainly—lawful men, to have their land.

When earth has obtained earth,—and thus of earth hast enough,—when he is stuck therein,—woe to him that was in wickedness!—What is the good that man shall have,—when he shall go out of this world?—A sorry garment,—why shall I joke?—For he brought him no more.

Just as he came, he shall go,—in woe, in pain, in poverty;—take good heed, men, to your end,—for as I say, so it will be.—I know not of what men are so proud;—of earth, and ashes, skin and bone?—when the soul is once out,—there is no viler carcase.

The carcase is so loathsome to see,—that under earth men must it hide;—both wife and child will from him fly,—there is no friend that will stay with him.—What will men for the soul give?—corn nor meal, well thou knowest;—but very seldom at their meal,—a rough bare trencher, or a crust.

The beggar that the crust shall have,—right scornfully he looks thereon:—truth to say, and not to joke,—right not a pan he is paid.—Then saith the beggar in his mood,—“The crust is both hard and tough,—the wretch was hard that possessed the goods,—hard for hard is good enough.”

May he have much misadventure who for him saith—Pater-noster or creed;—but let him have as he did,—for of the gift hath he no reward.—I counsel thee have trust in no man,—nor upon no other;—but share it with your own fist,—trust neither to sister nor brother.

Honour God and holy church,—and give to the poor that have need;—Thus ye shall work God’s will,—and have for reward the joy of heaven.—To which joy us bring—Jesus Christ heaven’s King. Amen.

---

The scholastic philosophy flourished through the thirteenth century, the age of Albertus Magnus, of Grosteste, and of Roger Bacon; but, towards the close of that period, the importance of the schools and universities was rapidly declining. They had received a shock from the triumph of the monks over the scholars during the reign of St. Louis, which they could never recover. Political events, and the great change which was then operating in the whole political—we may perhaps say social—system, hastened their fall. The nice quibbles of the dialectitian, although they still had their weight in the cloister, began to be sneered at in the world without. The following song, which perhaps belongs to the beginning of the fourteenth century, is directed against the artistæ, or those who studied the seven arts, the scholastic trivium and quadrivium.

SONG AGAINST THE SCHOLASTIC STUDIES.

[From MS. Cotton. Titus A. XX. fol. 66, v^o, written in reign of Edw. II.; and MS. Bodl. Oxford. Rawl. B. 214, fol. 168, v^o, of 15th cent.]

Meum est propositum gentis imperitæ

Artes frugi reddere melioris vitæ,

Et ad artes singulas procedatis rite:

Ad mea decepti juvenes documenta venite.

Adversatur legibus omne genus cleri,

Cujus status hodie pejor est quam heri;

Sua sacra presbiter quisque vult tueri.

Ingenium magni livor detraxit Homeri.

Quando contra boream nauta pandit velum,

Et asellus vincere cursu vult camelum,

Non formidat ponere manus os in cœlum:

Vulneror et clausum porto sub pectore telum.

Præferri bidentibus capra vult hirsuta,

Stulta non considerans unde sit induta;

Illi æqua vellera non sunt attributa:

Pennatis avibus quondam testudo locuta.

Cum sint nuda gloria logici contenti,

Sub egentis propere vivunt indumenti,

Verumtamen invident opulentæ genti.

Summa petit livor, perflant altissima venti.

Modus est invidiæ semper, ut ab imis

Sursum tendant, ultima contradicunt primis:

Invidere negligit infimo sublimis.

Invidus alterius rebus macescit opimis.

Si non cupis vivere pauper et mendicus,

Semper in laboribus sicut servus Stichus,

Igni digna subjici sine fructu ficus,

Dilige sic alios ut sis tibi carus amicus.

Expedit pauperibus abhærere legi;

Insudare nimium artibus elegi.

Ignoro propterea unde possum regi,

Carmina qui quondam studio florente peregi.

Nonne circa logicam si quis laborabit,

Spinas atque tribulos illi germinabit?

In sudore nimio panem manducabit;

Vix tamen hoc illi garula lingua dabit.

In arenam logicus frustra semen serit,

Nam metendi tempore fructus nullus erit;

Circa ficum sterilem labor omnis perit.

Arbor qualis erit, talia poma gerit.

Licet sis ad apicem artium provectus,

Fies junioribus in brevi despectus;

Dicunt de te, “senio desipit affectus.”

Æmula quid cessas finem properare senectus?

Veræ pestilentiæ cathedra tu sedes,

Qui Thebanas lectitas vel Trojanas cædes;

Affluunt divitiis legistarum sedes,

Et modo vadit equis qui solet ire pedes.

Propter artes vigilans est revera stultus;

Cur circa Georgicam pateris singultus?

Ager sic per steriles jaceat incultus,

Telluris si forte velis cognoscere cultus.

Propter leges merito labor est ferendus;

Ager reddens centuplum non est deferendus.

Est libellus pauperum pauperi legendus;

Hic tibi præcipue sit pura mente colendus.

Circa dialecticam tempus cur consumis,

Tu qui nullos redditus aliunde sumis?

Colat qui per patriam natus est e summis,

Dives agro, dives positis in fænore nummis.

Dives in fallaciis discat esse fortis;

Discat capram facere de persona sortis.

Artes nunquam deserat citra tempus mortis.

Contentus fama lateat Lucanus in hortis.

Si forte deliquerit artibus imbutus,

Ad legistas fugiet si vult esse tutus:

Quia se defendere nescit plus quam mutus,

Græcorum studia nimium diuque sequutus.

Atria nobilium video patere;

Cum legista venerit dissolvuntur ceræ.

Exclusus ad januam poteris sedere,

Ipse licet venias musis comitatus, Homere.

Logicus araneæ potest comparari,

Quæ subtiles didicit telas operari,

Quæ suis visceribus volunt consummari;

Est pretium musca, si forte queat laqueari.

Si fortuna logico favet in privigno,

Vultu namque logicum respicit benigno;

Si sit dives logicus hoc sub cœli signo;

Rara avis in terra nigroque simillima cigno.

Naturæ cognoscere si velis archana,

Stude circa physicam quæ dat membra sana:

Sat quicquid expostulat egestas humana,

Sat Galienus opes et sanctio Justiniana.

Translation.—It is my design to turn the arts of an unskilful race to the fruit of a better life, and so proceed ye to each of the arts in order: O youth who have been deceived, come to my lessons.—Every class of the clergy is opposed to the laws, of whom the condition to-day is worse than it was yesterday; every priest will hold his own rites: envy detracted from the talents of great Homer.—When the sailor spreads his sail against the north wind, and the ass thinks to conquer the camel in the race, then the hand fears not to put the face towards heaven; I am wounded and carry the weapon shut up in my breast.—The shaggy she-goat wishes to be preferred to the sheep, in her folly not considering with what she is clothed; so fine a fleece has not been given to her: as the tortoise once said to the winged birds.—Although the logicians are satisfied with naked glory, and live under the garb of the needy, nevertheless they envy the rich. Envy seeks the summit, the wind blows vehemently on lofty places.—It is always the manner of envy, that they aim from the bottom upwards, the last speak against the first: he who is elevated does not think it worth while to envy him who is most low. The envious man becomes lean by regarding the fatness of another.—If you do not desire to live poor and beggarly, always labouring like the servant Stichus, a fig-tree without fruit worthy to be cast in the fire; love others so that thou mayest be a dear friend to thyself.—It is good for poor men to adhere to the law; I have chosen to labour much on the arts. I am ignorant therefore how I may be guided, who once composed verses, while my study flourished.—If any one will expend his labour upon logic, will it not produce him thorns and brambles? in too much sweat he will eat his bread; and even that his talkative tongue will hardly give him.—The logician in vain sows his seed in the sand, for in harvest time there will be no fruit; upon a barren fig-tree all labour is lost. Such as is the tree, such will be the fruit it bears.—Although you be arrived at the summit of the arts, you will be in a short time despised by the younger aspirants; they will say of thee, “he doats, affected with old age.” Old age, why do you emulous cease to hasten the end?—Thou sittest in the chair of a true pestilence, who readest the tragedy of Thebes or of Troy; [whilst] the seats of the legists abound in riches, and now he goes on horseback who used to go on foot.—He who sits up at night to study the arts is truly a fool; why do you yawn over the Georgic? thus the field may lie neglected and barren, while by chance you may be desirous of understanding the culture of the earth.—It is right that we should labour upon the laws; a field that produces a hundred-fold is not to be set aside. The book of the poor is to be read by the poor man; this chiefly is the book to be devotedly cultivated by thee.—Why do you consume your time upon dialectics, thou who receivest no income from other sources? Let him cultivate it who is born of high family in the country, rich in land and rich in money laid out at interest.—Let the rich man learn to be strong in fallacies; let him learn to make a she-goat of the person of chance. Let him never desert the arts, before the hour of his death. Satisfied with fame, let Lucan lie hid in the gardens.—If imbued in the arts he should chance to fail, he will fly to the legists if he will be safe: because he knows no more how to defend himself than one who is dumb, having pursued too much and too often the study of the Greeks.—I see the halls of the nobles open; when the legist comes, the bolts are undone; thou, shut out, mayest sit at the door, although thou thyself, Homer, shouldst come along with the muses.—The logician may be compared to a spider, which learns to spin subtle webs, that are made out of its own bowels; the reward is a fly, if by chance it can be netted.—If fortune favour a logician in his kindred, for she looks upon the logician with a benignant countenance; if a logician be rich under this sign of the heavens; he is a rare bird upon earth, and very like a black swan.—If you wish to know the secrets of nature, study physic which gives health to the limbs; what man’s need requires is enough, Galen and the sanction of Justinian are riches enough.

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The following English verses, composed at the same period, seem also intended as a satire upon the studies and arguments of the dialectitians.

THE SONG OF “NEGO.”

[From MS. Harl. No. 913, fol. 58, v^o. written in 1308.]

Hit nis bot trewth, I wend, an afte

For te sette nego in eni crafte;

Trewth so drawith to heven blisse,

Nego doth noȝt so i-wisse.

For-sak and save is thef in lore,

Nego is pouer clark in store.

Whan menne horlith ham here and there,

Nego savith ham fram care.

Awei with nego ute of place!

Whose wol have Goddis grace;

Whoso wol aȝens the devil fiȝte,

Ther mai nego sit a-riȝte.

Ak loke that we never more

Nego sette in trew lore.

For whoso can lite, hath sone i-do,

Anone he drawith to nego.

Now o clerk seiith nego;

And that other dubito;

Seiith another concedo;

And another obligo,

Verum falsum sette therto;

Than is al the lore i-do.

Thus the fals clerkes of har hevid,

Makith men trewth of ham be revid.

Translation.—It is contrary to truth, I believe, and ...—to set nego in any craft;—truth draweth us to the joy of heaven,—nego does not so certainly.—Forsake and save is a thief in doctrine,—nego is a poor clerk in store.—When men hurl them here and there,—nego saves them from care.—Away with nego out of the place!—whoever will have God’s grace;—he who will against the devil fight,—there may nego sit rightly.—But see that we never more—set nego in true doctrine.—For he who knows little has soon done,—anon he draws to nego.—Now one clerk says nego;—and the other dubito;—saith another concedo;—and another obligo,—with verum falsum set to it;—then is all their learning done.—Thus the false clerks of their head,—make men of truth through them be bereaved.

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The Scottish wars occupied incessantly the remaining years of Edward’s reign. The following song was composed probably in the September of the year 1306, soon after the battle of Kirkencliff, and on the immediate occasion of the execution of Sir Simon Fraser, who was taken prisoner there.

SONG ON THE EXECUTION OF SIR SIMON FRASER.

[MS. Harl. 2253, fol. 59, v^o. of reign of Edw. II.]

Lystneth, lordynges, a newe song ichulle bigynne,

Of the traytours of Scotlond that take beth wyth gynne;

Mon that loveth falsnesse and nule never blynne,

Sore may him drede the lyf that he is ynne,

ich understonde:

Selde wes he glad

That never nes a-sad

of nythe ant of onde.

That y sugge by this Scottes that bueth nou to-drawe,

The hevedes o Londone brugge whose con y-knawe:

He wenden han buen kynges, ant seiden so in sawe;

Betere hem were han y-be barouns ant libbe in Godes lawe,

wyth love.

Whose hateth soth ant ryht,

Lutel he douteth Godes myht,

the heye kyng above.

To warny alle the gentilmen that bueth in Scotlonde,

The Waleis wes to-drawe, seththe he was an-honge,

Al quic biheveded, ys bowels y-brend,

The heved to Londone brugge wes send

to abyde.

After Simond Frysel,

That wes traytour ant fykell,

and y-cud ful wyde.

Sire Edward oure kyng, that ful ys of pieté,

The Waleis quarters sende to is oune contré,

On four half to honge, huere myrour to be,

Theropon to thenche, that monie myhten se

ant drede.

Why nolden he be war

Of the bataile of Donbar,

hou evele hem con spede?

Bysshopes and barouns come to the kynges pes,

Ase men that weren fals, fykel, ant les,

Othes hue him sworen in stude ther he wes,

To buen him hold ant trewe for ailes cunnes res,

thrye,

That hue ne shulden aȝeyn him go,

So hue were temed tho;

weht halt hit to lye?

To the kyng Edward hii fasten huere fay;

Fais wes here foreward so forst is in May,

That sonne from the southward wypeth away:

Moni proud Scot therof mene may

to ȝere.

Nes never Scotlond

With dunt of monnes hond

allinge a-boht so duere!

The Bisshop of Glascou ychot he was y-laht;

The Bisshop of Seint André bothe he beth y-caht;

The Abbot of Scon with the Kyng nis nout saht;

Al here purpos y-come hit ys to naht,

thurh ryhte.

Hii were unwis

When hii thohte pris

aȝeyn huere kyng to fyhte.

Thourh consail of thes bisshopes y-nemned byfore,

Sire Robert the Bruytz furst kyng wes y-core,

He mai everuche day ys fon him se byfore;

Ȝef hee mowen him hente, ichot he bith forlore,

sauntz fayle.

Soht for te sugge,

Duere he shal abugge

that he bigon batayle.

Hii that him crounede proude were ant bolde,

Hii maden kyng of somere, so hii ner ne sholde,

Hii setten on ys heved a croune of rede golde,

Ant token him a kyne-ȝerde so me kyng sholde,

to deme.

Tho he wes set in see,

Lutel god couthe he

kyne-riche to ȝeme.

Now Kyng Hobbe in the mures ȝongeth,

For te come to toune nout him ne longeth;

The barouns of Engelond, myhte hue him gripe,

He him wolde techen on Englysshe to pype,

thourh streynthe:

Ne be he ner so stout,

Ȝet he bith y-soht out

o brede and o leynthe.

Sire Edward of Carnarvan, Jhesu him save ant see!

Sire Emer de Valence, gentil knyht ant free,

Habbeth y-suore huere oht that, par la grace Dée!

Hee wollith ous delyvren of that false contree,

ȝef hii conne.

Much hath Scotlond forlore,

Whet a-last, whet bifore,

ant lutel pris wonne.

Nou ichulle fonge ther ich er let,

Ant tellen ou of Frisel, ase ich ou byhet;

In the batayle of Kyrkenclyf, Frysel was y-take;

Ys continaunce abated eny bost to make

biside Strivelyn:

Knyhtes ant sweynes,

Fremen ant theynes,

monye with hym.

So hii weren byset on everuche halve,

Somme slaye were, ant somme dreynte hem-selve;

Sire Johan of Lyndeseye nolde nout abyde,

He wod into the water his feren him bysyde

to adrenche.

Whi nolden hii be war?

Ther nis non aȝeyn stare:—

why nolden by hem by-thenche?

This wes byfore Seint Bartholomeus masse,

That Frysel wes y-take, were hit more other lasse:

To Sire Thomas of Multone, gentil baroun ant fre,

Ant to Sire Johan Jose, bytake tho wes he

to honde:

He wes y-fetered weel

Both with yrn ant wyth steel,

to bringen of Scotlonde.

Sone therafter the tydynge to the kyng com;

He him sende to Londone with mony armed grom;

He com yn at Newegate, y telle yt ou aplyht,

A gerland of leves on ys hed y-dyht

of grene;

For he shulde ben y-knowe

Bothe of heȝe ant of lowe

for treytour, y wene.

Y-fetered were ys legges under his horse wombe;

Bothe with yrn ant with stel mankled were ys honde;

A gerland of peruenke set on ys heved;

Muche wes the poer that him wes byreved

in londe:

So God me amende!

Lutel he wende

so be broht in honde.

Sire Herbert of Morham, feyr knyht ant bold,

For the love of Frysel ys lyf wes y-sold;

A wajour he made, so hit wes y-told,

Ys heved of to smhyte ȝef me him brohte in hold,

wat so bytyde.

Sory wes he thenne,

Tho he myhte him kenne

thourh the toun ryde.

Thenne seide ys scwyer a word anon ryht,

“Sire, we beth dede, ne helpeth hit no wyht,”—

(Thomas de Boys the scwyer wes to nome)—

“Nou ychot oure wajour turneth us to grome,

so y-bate.”

Y do ou to wyte,

Here heved wes of smyte

byfore the Tour gate.

This wes on oure Levedy even, for sothe ych understonde,

The justices seten for the knyhtes of Scotlonde,

Sire Thomas of Multone, an hendy knyht ant wys,

Ant Sire Rauf of Sondwyche that muchel is told in pris,

ant Sire Johan Abel;

Mo y mihte telle by tale,

Bothe of grete ant of smale,

ȝe knowen suythe wel.

Thenne saide the justice, that gentil is ant fre,

“Sire Simond Frysel, the kynges traytour hast thou be,

In water ant in londe, that monie myhten se:

What sayst thou thareto? hou wolt thou quite the?

do say.”

So foul he him wiste,

Nede waron truste

for to segge, nay.

Ther he wes y-demed, so hit wes londes lawe,

For that he wes lord-swyke, furst he wes to-drawe,

Upon a retheres hude forth he wes y-tuht:

Sum while in ys time he wes a modi knyht,

in huerte.

Wickednesse ant sunne,

Hit is lutel wunne

that maketh the body smerte.

For al is grete poer, ȝet he wes y-laht;

Falsnesse ant swykedom, al hit geth to naht;

Tho he wes in Scotlond, lutel wes ys thoht

Of the harde jugement that him wes bysoht

in stounde.

He wes four-sithe for-swore

To the kyng ther bifore,

ant that him brohte to grounde.

With feteres ant with gyves ichot he wes to-drowe,

From the Tour of Londone, that monie myhte knowe,

In a curtel of burel a selkethe wyse,

Ant a gerland on ys heved of the newe guyse,

thurh Cheepe;

Moni mon of Engelond

For to se Symond

thideward con lepe.

Tho he com to galewes, furst he wes an-honge,

Al quic by-heveded, thah him thohte longe,

Seththe he wes y-opened, is boweles y-brend,

The heved to Londone-brugge wes send

to shonde:

So ich ever mote the!

Sum while wende he

ther lutel to stonde.

He rideth thourh the sité, as y telle may,

With gomen and wyth solas, that wes here play,

To Londone-brugge hee nome the way,

Moni wes the wyves chil that theron laketh a day,

ant seide, alas!

That he wes i-bore,

Ant so villiche for-lore,

so feir mon ase he was.

Nou stont the heved above the tu-brugge,

Faste bi Waleis, soth for te sugge;

After socour of Scotlond longe he mowe prye,

Ant after help of Fraunce wet halt hit to lye,

ich wene.

Betere him were in Scotlond

With is ax in ys hond

to pleyen o the grene.

Ant the body hongeth at the galewes faste,

With yrnene claspes longe to laste;

For te wyte wel the body, ant Scottyshe to garste,

Foure ant twenti ther beoth to sothe ate laste

by nyhte.

Ȝef eny were so hardi

The body to remuy

al so to dyhte.

Were Sire Robert the Bruytz y-come to this londe,

Ant the Erl of Asseles, that harde is an honde,

Alle the other pouraille, for sothe ich understonde,

Mihten be ful blythe ant thonke Godes sonde,

wyth ryhte:

Thenne myhte uch mon

Bothe riden ant gon

in pes withoute vyhte.

The traytours of Scotlond token hem to rede,

The barouns of Engelond to brynge to dede;

Charles of Fraunce, so moni mon tolde,

With myht ant with streynthe hem helpe wolde,

his thonkes!

Tprot, Scot, for thi strif!

Hang up thyn hachet ant thi knyf,

Whil him lasteth the lyf

with the longe shonkes.

Translation.—Listen, lordings, a new song I will begin,—of the traitors of Scotland who are taken with a trap;—he who loves falseness, and will never leave it,—sore may he dread the life that he is in,—I believe:—seldom was he glad—that never was sorrowful—for his wickedness and turbulence.

I say that of these Scots who are now drawn,—their heads on London bridge anybody may recognise:—they thought to have been kings, and said so in their talk;—better was it for them to have been barons and live in God’s law,—with love.—He who hateth truth and right,—little he fears God’s might,—the high king above.

To be a warning to all the gentlemen who are in Scotland,—the Wallace was drawn, and afterwards was hanged,—beheaded all alive, his bowels burnt,—the head to London Bridge was sent—to remain there.—Afterwards Simon Fraser, who was traitor and fickle,—and known full wide.

Sir Edward our king, who is full of piety,—sent the Wallace’s quarters to his own country,—to hang in four parts (of the country), to be their mirror,—thereupon to think, in order that many might see—and dread.—Why would they not take warning—of the battle of Dunbar,—how ill they sped?

Bishops and barons came to the king’s peace,—as men that were false, fickle, and lying,—oaths they swore to him in the place where he was,—to be firm and true to him in all kinds of moments,—thrice (?),—that they should not against him go,—so were they tamed then;—what profits it to lie?

To King Edward they plight their faith;—false was their covenant as frost is in May,—which the sun from the southward wipes away;—many a proud Scot thereof may lament—in year.—Was never Scotland—by dint of man’s hand—altogether bought so dear.

The Bishop of Glasgow, I wot he was taken;—the Bishop of St. Andrew, too, he is caught;—the Abbot of Scone with the King is not ...;—all their purpose is come to nothing,—by right.—They were unwise—when they thought it praiseworthy—against their king to fight.

Through counsel of these bishops named before,—Sir Robert the Bruce first was chosen king,—he may every day his foes see before him;—if they may catch him, I wot he is undone,—without fail.—To say the truth,—dearly he shall pay—for having begun battle.

They that crowned him were proud and bold,—they made a king of summer, as they never should,—they set on his head a crown of red gold,—and gave him a sceptre as one should to a king,—to judge.—When he was set on a throne,—little good knew he—a kingdom to rule.

Now King Hobbe gangeth in the moors,—to come to town he has no desire;—the barons of England if they might gripe him,—they would teach him to pipe in English,—through strength:—be he never so stout,—yet he is sought out—wide and far.

Sir Edward of Caernarvon, (Jesus save him and have him in regard!)—and Sir Aymer de Valence, a gentle knight and liberal,—they have sworn their oath that, by the grace of God!—they will deliver us from that false country,—if they can.—Much hath Scotland lost,—what latterly and what before,—and little praise won.

Now I shall take up where I left off before,—and tell you of Fraser, as I promised you;—in the battle of Kirkencliff Fraser was taken;—his countenance ceased from making any boast—near Stirling:—knights and swains,—freemen and thanes,—many with him.

They were so beset on every part,—some were slain and some drowned themselves.—Sir John de Lyndsay would not remain,—he waded into the water with his companions beside him—to drown.—Why would not they beware?—There is none looked again (?):—why would not they reflect?

It was before St. Bartholomew’s mass,—that Fraser was taken, were it more or less:—To Sir Thomas de Multon, a gentle knight and liberal,—and to Sir John Jose, he was delivered then—in hand:—he was well fettered—both with iron and with steel,—to bring out of Scotland.

Soon afterwards the tidings came to the king;—they sent him to London with many an armed man;—he came in at Newgate, I tell it you faithfully,—a garland of leaves placed on his head—of green;—because he should be known—both by high and by low—as a traitor, I ween.

Fettered were his legs under his horse’s belly;—both with iron and with steel manacled were his hands;—a garland of periwinkle set on his head;—much was the power that was taken from him—in land:—As may God amend me!—he little supposed—so to be brought in hand.

Sir Herbert of Morham, a fair knight and bold,—for the love of Fraser his life was sold;—a wager he made, so it was said,—to smite off his head if they took him in hold,—whatever betide.—Sorry was he then,—when he might know him—to ride through the town.

Then said his squire a word anon right,—“Sir, we are dead, there is no creature to help us;”—(the squire was named Thomas de Bois)—“now I wot our wager turns to our sorrow,—so bet.”—I give you to know,—their heads were smitten off—before the gate of the Tower.

It was on our Lady’s eve, for truth I understand,—the justices sat for the knights of Scotland,—Sir Thomas de Multon, a gentle knight and wise,—and Sir Ralph de Sandwich, who is much esteemed in worth,—and Sir John Abel;—more I might tell by reckoning,—both of great and of small,—ye know very well.

Then said the justice, who is gentle and free,—“Sir Simon Fraser, the king’s traitor hast thou been,—on water and on land, as many may see:—what sayest thou thereto? how wilt thou clear thyself?—do say.”—He knew himself to be so foul,—he had not whereon to trust—to say, nay.

There he was judged, as it was the law of the land,—because he was traitor to his lord, first he was drawn,—upon a bullock’s hide forth he was led:—for once in his life he was a moody knight—in heart.—Wickedness and sin,—it is little gain—that makes the body smart.

For all his great power, still he was taken;—falseness and treachery all come to nothing;—when he was in Scotland, little was his thought—of the hard judgment which was prepared for him—in a short time.—He was four times perjured—to the king there before,—and that brought him to the ground.

With fetters and with gyves I wot he was drawn,—from the Tower of London, that many might know,—in a kirtle of sack-cloth in strange wise,—and a garland on his head of the new guise,—through Cheap;—many a man of England—to see Simon—thither began to leap.

When he came to the gallows, first he was hanged,—beheaded all alive, though it seemed to him long,—afterwards he was opened, his bowels burnt,—the head to London Bridge was sent—for disgrace:—As I may ever thrive!—at one time he thought—little there to stand.

They ride through the city, as I may tell,—with game and with solace, that was their play,—to London Bridge they took the way,—many was the woman’s child that thereon lacks-a-day,—and said, alas!—that he was born,—and so vilely undone,—so fair a man as he was.

Now stands the head above the twi-bridge,—fast by Wallace, to say the truth;—after succour from Scotland long they may pray,—and after help from France what profits it to wait, (?)—I ween.—It were better for him in Scotland—with his axe in his hand—to play on the green.

And the body hangs fast on the gallows,—with iron clasps long to last;—to guard well the body, and the Scotch to drive away (?),—four-and-twenty there are for sooth at least—by night.—If any one were so hardy—the body to remove—immediately to attack them.

If Sir Robert the Bruce were come to this land,—and the Earl of Athol that is hard in hand,—all the rest of the common people, for truth I understand,—might be full blith, and thank God’s sending,—with right:—then might each man—both ride and go—in peace, without fighting.

The traitors of Scotland took counsel with themselves,—to bring the barons of England to death;—Charles of France, as many a one said,—with might and with strength would help them,—thanks to him!—Tprot, Scot, for thy strife!—hang up thy hatchet and thy knife,—while life lasts to him—with the long shanks.

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The following song, remarkable for the playfulness of its metres and rhymes, gives us a strong picture of the extortions committed at this period of our history upon the weak and defenceless, by the magistrates and the officers connected with the courts of law.

SONG ON THE VENALITY OF THE JUDGES.

[From MS. Harl. No. 913, fol. 59, r^o. of the beginning of the 14th century. This song is in the MS. written as prose.]

Beati qui esuriunt

Et sitiunt, et faciunt

justitiam,

Et odiunt et fugiunt

injuriæ nequitiam;

Quos nec auri copia

Nec divitum encennia

trahunt a rigore,

nec pauperum clamore;

Quæ sunt justa judicant,

Et a jure non claudicant

divitum favore.

Sed nunc miro more

Multos fallit seculum,

Et trahit in periculum,

mundi ob favorem,

ut lambeant honorem.

Hoc facit pecunia,

Quam omnis fere curia

jam duxit in uxorem.

Sunt justitiarii,

Quos favor et denarii

alliciunt a jure;

Hii sunt nam bene recolo,

Quod censum dant diabolo,

et serviunt hii pure.

Nam jubet lex naturæ,

Quod judex in judicio

Nec prece nec pretio

acceptor sit personæ;

quid, Jhesu ergo bone,

Fiet de judicibus,

Qui prece vel muneribus

cedunt a ratione?

Revera tales judices

Nuncios multiplices

habent;—audi quare.

Si terram vis rogare,

Accedet ad te nuncius,

Et loquitur discretius,

dicens, “Amice care,

vis tu placitare?

Sum cum justitiario

Qui te modo vario

possum adjuvare;

si vis impetrare

Per suum subsidium,

Da michi dimidium,

et te volo juvare.”

Ad pedes sedent clerici,

Qui velut famelici

sunt, donis inhiantes;

et pro lege dantes,

Quod hii qui nichil dederint,

Quamvis cito venerint,

erunt expectantes.

Sed si quædam nobilis,

Pulcra vel amabilis,

cum capite cornuto,

auro circumvoluto,

Accedat ad judicium,

Hæc expedit negotium

ore suo muto.

Si pauper muliercula,

Non habens munuscula,

formam neque genus,

quam non pungit Venus,

Infecto negotio

Suo pergit hospitio,

dolendo corde tenus.

Sunt quidam ad hanc curiam,

Qui exprimunt juditiam;

dicuntur relatores;

cæteris pejores.

Utraque manu capiunt,

Et sic eos decipiunt

quorum sunt tutores.

Et quid janitores?

Qui dicunt pauperibus

Curiam sequentibus,

“Pauper, cur laboras?

Cur facis hic moras?

Nisi des pecuniam

Cuique ad hanc curiam,

in vanum laboras.

Quid, miser, ergo ploras?

Si nichil attuleris,

stabis omnino foras.”

De vicecomitibus,

Quam duri sunt pauperibus,

quis potest enarrare?

Qui nichil potest dare,

Huc et illuc trahitur,

Et in assisis ponitur,

et cogitur jurare,

non ausus murmurare.

Quod si murmuraverit,

Ni statim satisfecerit,

est totum salsum mare.

Hoc idem habent vitium,

Cum subeunt hospitium

cujusdam patriotæ,

vel abbathiæ notæ,

Quo potus et cibaria,

Et cuncta necessaria,

eis dentur devote.

Nil prosunt sibi talia,

Nisi mox jocalia

post prandium sequantur,

et cunctis largiantur,

Bedellis, garcionibus,

Et qui sunt secum omnibus.

Nec adhuc pacantur,

nisi transmittantur

Robæ suis uxoribus

Ex variis coloribus.

Si non clam mittantur,

Et post sic operantur;

Quotquot habent averia

Ad sua maneria

cum impetu fugantur,

et ipsi imparcantur

Quousque satisfecerint,

Ita quod duplum dederint;

tunc demum liberantur.

Clericos irrideo

Suos, quos prius video

satis indigentes,

et quasi nil habentes,

Quando ballivam capiunt;

Qua capta mox superbiunt,

et crescunt sibi dentes,

collaque erigentes,

Incipiunt perpropere

Terras et domos emere,

et redditus placentes;

nummosque colligentes,

Pauperes despiciunt,

Et novas leges faciunt,

vicinos opprimentes;

fiuntque sapientes.

In hoc malum faciunt,

Et patriam decipiunt,

nemini parcentes.

Translation.—Blessed are they who hunger and thirst, and do justice, and hate and avoid the wickedness of injustice; whom neither abundance of gold nor the jewels of the rich draw from their inflexibility, or from the cry of the poor; they judge what is just, and do not fall off from the right for the sake of the rich. But now the age deceives many in a wonderful manner, and draws them into danger, for love of the world, that they may lick up honours. The cause of this is money, to which almost every court has now wedded itself.

There are judges, whom partiality and bribes seduce from justice; these are they, I remember well, that pay toll to the devil, and they serve him alone. For the law of nature commands, that a judge in giving judgment should not be an acceptor of anybody either for prayer or money; what therefore, O good Jesus, will be done with the judges, who for prayers or gifts recede from what is just?

In fact such judges have numerous messengers;—listen for what purpose. If you wish to claim land, a messenger will come to you, and speaks in confidence, saying, “Dear friend, do you wish to plead? I am one who can help you in various ways with the judge; if you wish to obtain anything by his aid, give me half, and I will help you.”

At his feet sit clerks, who are like people half-famished, gaping for gifts; and proclaiming it as law, that those who give nothing, although they come early, will have to wait.

But if some noble lady, fair and lovely, with horns on her head, and that encircled with gold, come for judgment, such a one despatches her business without having to say a word.

If the woman be poor, and has no gifts, neither beauty nor rich relationship, whom Venus does not stimulate, she goes home without effecting her business, sorrowful at heart.

There are some at this court, who express judgment; whom they call relaters, worse than the others. They take with both hands, and so deceive those whose defenders they are. And what shall we say to the ushers? who say to the poor that follow the court, “Poor man, why do you trouble yourself? why do you wait here? unless you give money to everybody in this court, you labour in vain. Why then, wretch, do you lament? If you have brought nothing, you will stand altogether out of doors.”

Concerning the sheriffs, who can relate with sufficient fulness how hard they are to the poor? He who has nothing to give is dragged hither and thither, and is placed in the assises, and is obliged to take his oath, without daring to murmur. But if he should murmur, unless he immediately make satisfaction, it is all salt sea.

The same people have this vice, when they enter the house of some countryman, or of a famous abbey, where drink and victuals, and all things necessary, are given to them devoutly. Such things are of no avail, unless by and by the jewels follow after the meal, and are distributed to all, bedels and garçons, and all who are with them. Nor even yet are they paid, unless robes of various colours are transmitted to their wives. If these are not sent privately, then they proceed as follows; whatever cattle they find, are driven off violently to their own manors, and the owners themselves are put in confinement until they make satisfaction, so that they give the double: then at length they are liberated.

I laugh at their clerks, whom I see at first indigent enough, and possessing next to nothing, when they receive a bailiwick; which received they next show themselves proud, and their teeth grow, and holding up their necks they begin very hastily to buy lands and houses, and agreeable rents; and amassing money themselves, they despise the poor, and make new laws, oppressing their neighbours; and they become wise men. In this they do wickedness, and deceive their country, sparing no one.

---

The next song was doubtlessly considered as very libellous at the time when it was composed, and professes to have been written in the wild wood; the means of publication being to drop it on the high road, that it might fall into the hands of passengers. It is directed against one of the king’s ordinances.

THE OUTLAW’S SONG OF TRAILLEBASTON.

[MS. Harl. No. 2253, fol. 113, v^o. of the reign of Edw. II.]

Talent me prent de rymer e de geste fere

D’une purveaunce qe purveu est en la terre;

Mieux valsit uncore que la chose fust à fere:

Si Dieu ne prenge garde, je quy que sourdra guere.

Ce sunt les articles de Trayllebastoun;

Salve le roi meismes, de Dieu eit maleysoun

Qe a de primes graunta tiel commissioun!

Quar en ascuns des pointz n’est mie resoun.

Sire, si je voderoi mon garsoun chastier

De une buffe ou de deus, pur ly amender,

Sur moi betera bille, e me frad atachier,

E avant qe isse de prisone raunsoun grant doner.

Quaraunte souz pernent pur ma raunsoun,

E le viscounte vint à son guerdoun,

Qu’il ne me mette en parfounde prisoun.

Ore agardez, seigneurs, est-ce resoun?

Pur ce me tendroi antre bois sur le jolyf umbray;

Là n’y a fauceté ne nulle male lay;—

En le bois de Belregard, où vole le jay,

E chaunte russinole touz jours santz delay.

Mès le male doseynes, dount Dieu n’eit jà pieté!

Parmi lur fauce bouches me ount enditée

De male robberies e autre mavestée,

Que je n’os entre mes amis estre receptée.

J’ai servi my sire le roy en pées e en guere,

En Flaundres, Escoce, en Gascoyne sa terre;

Mès ore ne me sai-je point chevisaunce fere;—

Tot mon temps ay mis en veyn pur tiel honme plere.

Si ces maveis jurours ne se vueillent amender,

Que je pus à mon pais chevalcher e aler,

Si je les pus ateindre la teste lur froi voler,

De touz lur manaces ne dorroi un dener.

Ly Martyn et ly Knoville sunt gent de pieté,

E prient pur les povres qu’il eyent sauveté;

Spigurnel e Belflour sunt gent de cruelté,

Si il fuissent en ma baylie ne serreynt retornée.

Je lur apre[n]droy le giw de Traylebastoun,

E lur bruseroy l’eschyne e le cropoun,

Les bras e les jaunbes, ce serreit resoun,

La lange lur tondroy e la bouche ensoun.

Qy cestes choses primes comença,

Jà jour de sa vie amendé ne serra;

Je vus di pur veyr, trop graunt pecché en a,

Quar pur doute de prisone meint laroun serra.

Ytel devendra leres que ne fust unque mès,

Que pur doute de prisone ne ose venir à pes;

Vivre covient avoir chescum jour adès;

Qy ceste chose comenca, yl emprist grant fes.

Bien devoient marchaunz e moygnes doner maliçoun

A tous iceux que ordinerent le Traillebastoun;

Ne lur vaudra un ayle le roial proteccioun,

Que il ne rendrount les deners sauntz regerdoun.

Vus qy estes endité, je lou, venez à moy,

Al vert bois de Belregard, là n’y a nul ploy,

Forque beste savage e jolyf umbroy;

Car trop est dotouse la commune loy.

Si tu sachez de lettrure, e estes coroucé,

Devaunt les justices serrez appellée;

Uncore poez estre à prisone retornée,

En garde de le evesque, jesque seiez purgée,

E soffryr messayse e trop dure penaunce,

E par cas n’averez jamès delyveraunce.

Pur ce valt plus ou moi à bois demorer,

Q’en prisone le evesque fyerge gyser.

Trop est la penaunce e dure à soffrer;

Quy le mieux puet eslyre, fol est qe ne velt choyser.

Avant savoy poy de bien, ore su-je meins sage;

Ce me fount les male leis par mout grant outrage,

Qe n’os à la pes venyr entre mon lignage;

Les riches sunt à raunsoun, povres à escolage.

Fort serroit engager ce qe ne puet estre aquytée,

C’est la vie de honme que taunt est cher amée.

E je n’ay mye le chatel de estre rechatée;

Mès si je fusse en lur baundoun à mort serroi lyverée;

Uncore attendroy grace e orroi gent parler,

Tiels me dient le mal que me ne osent aprochier.

E volenters verroient mon corps ledenger;

Mès entre myl debles Dieu puet un honme sauver.

Cely me pust salver que est le fitz Marie;

Car je ne su coupable, endité su par envye;

Qy en cesti lu me mist, Dieu lur maldie!

Le siècle est si variant, fous est qe s’affye.

Si je sei compagnoun e sache de archerye,

Mon veisyn irra disaunt, “cesti est de compagnie,

De aler bercer à bois e fere autre folie;”

Que ore vueille vivre come pork merra sa vye.

Si je sache plus de ley qe ne sevent eux,

Yl dirrount, “cesti conspyratour comence de estre faus,”

E le heyre n’aprocheroy de x. lywes en d’eus;

De tous veysinages hony seient ceux.

Je pri tote bone gent qe pur moi vueillent prier,

Qe je pus à mon pais aler e chyvaucher;

Unqe ne fu homicide, certes à moun voler,

Ne mal robberes pur gent damager.

Cest rym fust fet al bois desouz un lorer,

Là chaunte merle, russinole, e cyre l’esperver;

Escrit estoit en parchemyn pur mout remenbrer,

E gitté en haut chemyn, qe um le dust trover.

Translation.—I am seized with the desire to rhyme and to make a story,—of a purveyance which is provided in the land;—it would be much better if the thing were still undone:—if God does not avert it, I think that there will arise war.

It is the articles of Traillebaston;—except the king himself, may he have God’s curse—whoever first granted such a commission!—For there is little reason in any of the points of it.

Sire, if I wished to chastise my lad—with a slap or two, to amend him,—he will ask a bill against me, and will cause me to be arrested,—and to give a great ransom before I escape from prison.

Forty shillings they take for my ransom,—and the sheriff comes for his fee,—that he may not put me in deep prison.—Now consider, lords, is this right?

For this cause I will keep myself among the woods, in the beautiful shade;—where there is no falseness and no bad law;—in the wood of Beauregard, where the jay flies,—and where the nightingale sings always without ceasing.

But the bad idlers, on whom may God have no pity!—with their false mouths have indited me—of ill robberies and other delinquency,—so that I dare not be received among my friends.

I have served my lord the king in peace and in war,—in Flanders, Scotland, and his land of Gascony;—but now I do not know how to make any expedient for myself;—all my time I have spent in vain to please such a man.

If these wicked jurors will not amend,—that I may be able to ride and go at my peace,—if I can reach them I will make their heads fly off,—I would not give a penny for all their threats.

The Martin and the Knoville are people of piety,—and pray for the poor that they may have safety;—Spigurnel and Belflour are people of cruelty,—if they were in my keeping they should not be returned.

I would teach them the game of Trailebaston,—and would break their backbone and their crupper,—their arms and their legs, it would be but right,—I would cut their tongues and their mouths likewise.

He who first commenced these things,—never in his life will he be amended;—I tell you for truth, he has committed therein too great a sin,—for out of the fear of prison there will be many a robber made.

He will become a robber who was never so before,—who for fear of prison dare not come to peace;—it is necessary to have livelihood every day as it comes;—he who commenced this thing, undertook a great task.

Well may merchants and monks bestow a curse—on all those who ordained the Trailebaston;—the royal protection will not be worth a garlic to them,—if they do not repay the pence without recompense.

You who are indited, I advise you, come to me,—to the green wood of Beauregard, there where there is no plea,—except wild beast and beautiful shade;—for the common law is too much to be feared.

If thou knowest letters, and art enraged,—thou shalt be called before the justices;—again you may be returned to prison,—in keeping of the bishop, until you be cleansed;—and suffer mis-ease and too hard penance,—and perchance you will never have deliverance.

Therefore it is better to dwell with me in the wood,—than to lie cast in the bishop’s prison.—Too much is the penance, and hard to suffer;—he who has the opportunity to select what is better, is a fool if he does not make the choice.

Before I knew little what was good, now I am less wise;—the bad laws cause this by very great outrage,—so that I dare not come to the peace among my kindred;—the rich are put to ransom, the poor to prison.

It would be penible to engage what cannot be acquitted;—that is the life of man which is so dearly loved;—and I have not at all the goods wherewith to be bought off;—but if I were in their power I should be put to death.

Yet if I should expect grace and hear people talk,—those would say evil to me who dare not approach me,—and would willingly see my body disgraced.—But God can save a man in the midst of a thousand devils.

He can save me, who is the son of Mary;—for I am not culpable, I am indited out of malice;—God’s curse be on those who drove me to this place!—The world is so variable, that he is a fool who trusts in it.

If I am a companion and know archery,—my neighbour will go and say, “This man belongs to a company,—to go hunt in the wood and do other folly;”—so now I will live as a pig will lead his life.

If I happen to know more law than they know,—they will say this conspirator begins to be treasonable,—and I will not approach home within ten leagues of them;—of all neighbourhoods cursed be those.

I pray all good people that they will pray for me,—that I may be able to go and ride to my country;—I was never a homicide, at least by design,—nor an ill robber to do people damage.

This rhyme was made in the wood beneath a bay tree,—there sings the thrush, the nightingale, and the hawk cries (?);—it was written on parchment to be better remembered,—and cast in the highway, that people may find it.

---

The following song is a satire upon the numerous retinues of the nobles and rich people, whose idle attendants and servants preyed upon the produce of the industrious peasantry. It shows us how great were the pride and ostentation of the courtiers of the latter years of Edward the First.

A SONG AGAINST THE RETINUES OF THE GREAT PEOPLE.

[MS. Harl. 2253, fol. 124, v^o; of reign of Edw. II.]

Of ribaudz y ryme

Ant rede o mi rolle,

Of gedelynges, gromes,

Of Colyn ant of Colle,

Harlotes, hors-knaves,

Bi pate ant by polle;

To devel ich hem to-lvyre

Ant take to tolle!

The gedelynges were gedered

Of gonnylde gnoste;

Palefreiours ant pages,

Ant boyes with boste;

Alle weren y-haht

Of an horse thoste:

The devel huem afretye,

Rau other a-roste!

The shuppare that huem shupte,

To shome he huem shadde,

To fles ant to fleye,

To tyke ant to tadde;

So seyth Romaunz,

Whose ryht radde,—

Fleh com of flore,

Ant lous com of ladde.

The harlotes bueth horlynges,

Ant haunteth the plawe:

The gedelynges bueth glotouns,

Ant drynketh er hit dawe.

Sathanas huere syre

Seyde on is sawe,

Gobelyn made is gerner

Of gromene mawe.

The knave crommeth is crop,

Er the cok crawe;

He momeleth ant moccheth,

Ant marreth is mawe;

When he is al for-laped,

Ant lad over lawe,

A doseyn of doggen

Ne myhte hyre drawe.

The rybaudz a-ryseth

Er the day rewe;

He shrapeth on is shabbes,

Ant draweth huem to dewe.

Sene is on is browe

Ant on is eȝe-brewe,

That he louseth a losynger,

And shoyeth a shrewe.

Nou beth capel-claweres

With shome to-shrude;

Hue bosketh huem with botouns,

Ase hit were a brude;

With lowe lacede shon

Of an hayfre hude,

Hue pyketh of here provendre

Al huere prude.

Whose rykeneth with knaves

Huere coustage,

The luthernesse of the ladde,

The prude of the page,

Thah he ȝeve hem cattes-dryt

To huere companage,

Ȝet hym shulde a-rewen

Of the arrerage.

Whil God wes on erthe

And wondrede wyde,

Whet wes the resoun

Why he nolde ryde?

For he nolde no grom

To go by ys syde,

Ne grucchyng of no gedelyng

To chaule ne to chyde.

Spedeth ou to spewen,

Ase me doth to spelle;

The fend ou afretie

With fleis ant with felle!

Herkneth hideward, horsmen,

A tidyng ich ou telle,

That ȝe shulen hongen,

Ant herbarewen in helle!

Translation.—Of ribalds I rhyme—and read in my roll,—of gadlings, grooms,—of Colin and of Colle,—scoundrels, horse-boys,—by pate and by poll;—to the devil I them deliver—and give for toll.

The gadlings were gathered—of ...;—palfrey-keepers and pages,—and boys with boast;—all were ...—of a horse ...:—may the devil devour them—raw or roasted!

The maker that made them,—he shed them to shame,—to fleas and to fly,—to tyke and to toad;—so saith Romanz,—whoever read right,—fly comes of flower,—and louse comes of lad.

The rogues are horelings,—and haunt the play:—the gadlings are gluttons,—and drink before it dawns.—Satan their sire—said in his saying,—Goblin made his garner—of the grooms’ maw.

The knave crams his crop—before the cock crows;—he mumbles and mocks,—and marrs his maw;—when he is all weary of lapping (?),—and laid over law,—a dozen of dogs—could not draw him.

The ribalds arise—before the day breaks;—they scrape on their scabs,—and draw themselves to the dew.—Seen it is on his forehead—and on his eye-brows, that he looseth a flatterer,—and shoeth a shrew.

Now are horse-clawers—shamefully clothed;—they busk them with buttons—as it were a bride:—with low laced shoes—of a heifer’s hide,—they pick out of their provender—all their pride.

Whoever reckons with knaves—their expense,—the perverseness of the lad,—the pride of the page,—though he give them cats’ dirt—for their sustenance,—yet he shall rue—of the arrears.

While God was on earth—and wandered wide,—what was the reason—why he would not ride?—Because he would not have a groom—to go by his side,—nor the grudging of any gadling—to jaw or to chide.

Haste you to spew,—as men do to spell (talk);—may the fiend devour you—with flesh and with skin!—Harken this way, horsemen,—a tiding I tell you,—that ye shall hang,—and be lodged in hell.

---

[REIGN OF EDWARD II. 1307–1327.]

Edward the First quitted the stage at a period when wars from without and internal troubles were gathering fast over his country. His son and successor, a weak and ill-advised prince, was little calculated to repel the one or to calm the other; and the following song shows us that, contrary to the general rule in such cases, the people were more sorrowful for their loss than pleased with the novelty of a new monarch.

LAMENT ON THE DEATH OF EDWARD I.

[MS. Bibl. Publ. Cantab. Gg. I. 1, fol. 489, of the reign of Edw. II.]

Seigniurs, oiez, pur Dieu le grant,

Chançonete de dure pité,

De la mort un rei vaillaunt;

Homme fu de grant bounté,

E que par sa leauté

Mut grant encuntre ad sustenue;

Ceste chose est bien prové;

De sa terre n’ad rien perdue.

Priom Dieu en devocioun

Que de ses pecchez le face pardoun.

De Engletere il fu sire,

E rey qe mut savoit de guere;

En nule livre puet home lire

De rei qe mieuz sustint sa tere.

Toutes les choses qu’il vodreit fere,

Sagement les tinst à fine.

Ore si gist soun cors en tere:

Si va le siècle en decline.

Le rei de Fraunce grant pecché fist,

Le passage à desturber

Qe rei Edward pur Dieu emprist,

Sur Sarazins l’ewe passer.

Sun tresour fust outre la mere,

E ordine sa purveaunce

Seint eglise pur sustenire:

Ore est la tere en desperaunce.

Jerusalem, tu as perdu

La flour de ta chivalerie,

Rey Edward le viel chanu,

Qe tant ama ta seignurie.

Ore est-il mort; jeo ne sai mie

Toun baner qi le meintindra:

Sun duz quor par grant druerie

Outre la mere vous mandera.

Un jour avant que mort li prist,

Od son barnage voleit parler;

Les chivalers devant li vist,

Durement commenca de plurer.

“Jeo murrai,” dist, “par estover,

Jeo vei ma mort que me vent quere;

Fetes mon fiz rey corouner,

Qe Dampnt-Dieu li don bien fere!”

A Peiters à l’apostoile

Une messager la mort li dist;

E la Pape vesti l’estole,

A dure lermes les lettres prist.

“Alas!” ceo dist, “comment? morist

A qi Dieu donna tant honur?

A l’alme en face Dieu mercist!

De seint eglise il fu la flour.”

L’apostoile en sa chambre entra,

A pein le poeit sustenir;

E les cardinals trestuz manda,

Durement commenca de plurir.

Les cardinals li funt teisir,

En haut commencent lur servise:

Parmy la cité funt sonir,

Et servir Dieu en seint eglise.

L’apostoile meimes vint à la messe,

Oue mult grant sollempnité;

L’alme pur soudre sovent se dresse,

E dist par grant humilité:

“Place à Dieu en Trinité,

Qe vostre fiz en pust conquere

Jerusalem la digne cité,

E passer en la seinte tere!”

Le jeofne Edward d’Engletere

Rey est enoint e corouné:

Dieu le doint teil conseil trere,

Ki le pais seit gouverné;

E la coroune si garder,

Qe la tere seit entere,

E lui crestre en bounté,

Car prodhome i fust son pere.

Si Aristotle fuste en vie,

E Virgile qe savoit l’art,

Les valurs ne dirr[ai]ent mie

Del prodhome la disme part.

Ore est mort le rei Edward,

Pur qui mon quor est en trafoun;

L’alme Dieu la salve garde,

Pur sa seintime passioun! Amen.

Translation.—Lords, listen, for the sake of God the great,—a little song of grievous sorrow,—for the death of a precious king;—a man he was of great goodness,—and who by his loyalty—has sustained many a great encounter;—this thing is proved well;—of his land he lost none.—Let us pray God with devotion—that he pardon him his sins.

Of England he was lord,—and a king who knew much of war;—in no book can we read—of a king who sustained better his land.—All the things which he would do,—wisely he brought them to an end.—Now his body lies in the earth;—and the world is going to ruin.

The King of France did great sin,—to hinder the voyage—which King Edward undertook for God’s sake,—to pass the water against the Saracens.—His treasure was beyond the sea,—and he ordains his purveyance—to sustain holy church:—now is the land in despair.

Jerusalem, thou hast lost—the flower of thy chivalry,—King Edward the old and hoary,—who loved so much thy lordship.—Now he is dead; I know not at all—who will maintain thy banner:—his gentle heart for great love—he will send you over the sea.

One day before death took him,—he would talk with his baronage;—he saw the knights before him,—grievously he began to weep.—“I shall die,” he said, “of necessity,—I see my death which comes to seek me;—cause my son to be crowned king,—may the Lord God give him grace to do well!”

At Poitiers to the pope—a messenger told his death;—and the pope put on the stole,—with bitter tears he took the letters.—“Alas!” he said, “how? is he dead—to whom God gave so much honour?—May God grant mercy to his soul!—he was the flower of holy church.”

The pope entered in his chamber,—he could scarcely support it;—and he sent for all the cardinals,—grievously he began to weep.—The cardinals made him desist,—aloud they begin their service they cause the bells to be rung through the city,—and God’s service to be performed in holy church.

The pope himself came to the mass,—with very great solemnity;—he often applies himself to absolve the soul,—and said in great humility:—“May it please God in Trinity,—that your son may effect the conquest—of Jerusalem the noble city,—and pass into the Holy Land!”

The young Edward of England—is anointed and crowned king:—may God grant that he follow such counsel,—that the country may be governed;—and so to keep the crown,—that the land may be entire,—and himself to increase in goodness,—for his father was a worthy man.

If Aristotle were alive,—and Virgil who knew skill,—they would not say the value—of the worthy man a tenth part.—Now is dead King Edward,—for whom my heart is in desolation;—may God preserve his soul in safety,—for the sake of his holy passion! Amen.

---

The following song, in English, on the same event, is preserved in another manuscript. It is somewhat singular that one of these songs is clearly translated from the other, the variations being comparatively small, and consisting chiefly in the transposition of some of the stanzas. The French song was probably the original.

ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF EDWARD I.

[MS. Harl. No. 2253, fol. 73, r^o. of the reign of Edw. II.]

Alle that beoth of huerte trewe,

A stounde herkneth to my song,

Of duel that deth hath diht us newe,

That maketh me syke ant sorewe among;

Of a knyht that wes so strong,

Of wham God hath don ys wille:

Me thuncheth that deth hath don us wrong,

That he so sone shal ligge stille.

Al Englond ahte for te knowe

Of wham that song is that y synge;—

Of Edward kyng that lith so lowe,

Ȝent al this world is nome con springe.

Trewest mon of alle thinge,

Ant in werre war ant wys,

For him we ahte oure honden wrynge,

Of Christendome he ber the prys.

Byfore that oure kyng wes ded,

He speke ase mon that wes in care,—

“Clerkes, knyhtes, barouns,” he sayde,

“Y charge ou by oure sware,

That ȝe to Engelonde be trewe.

Y deȝe, y ne may lyven na more;

Helpeth mi sone ant crouneth him newe,

For he is nest to buen y-core.

“Ich biquethe myn herte aryht,

That hit be write at mi devys,

Over the see that hue be diht,

With fourscore knyhtes al of prys,

In werre that buen war ant wys,

Aȝeyn the hethene for te fyhte,

To wynne the croiz that lowe lys;

Myself ycholde ȝef that y myhte.”

Kyng of Fraunce, thou hevedest sunne,

That thou the counsail woldest fonde,

To latte the wille of kyng Edward

To wende to the holy londe:

That oure kyng hede take on honde

Al Engelond to ȝeme ant wysse,

To wenden into the Holy Londe,

To wynnen us heve[n]riche blisse.

The messager to the Pope com,

And seyde that oure kynge wes ded:

Ys oune hond the lettre he nom,

Y-wis his herte wes ful gret:

The Pope himself the lettre redde,

Ant spec a word of gret honour,—

“Alas!” he seide, “is Edward ded?

Of Christendome he ber the flour!”

The Pope to is chaumbre wende,

For del ne mihte he speke na more;

Ant after cardinals he sende,

That muche couthen of Cristes lore,

Bothe the lasse ant eke the more,

Bed hem bothe rede ant synge:

Gret deol me myhte se thore,

Mony mon is honde wrynge.

The Pope of Peyters stod at is masse,

With ful gret solempneté,

Ther me con the soule blesse:—

“Kyng Edward, honoured thou be!

God lene thi sone come after the

Bringe to ende that thou hast bygonne;

The holy crois y-mad of tre,

So fain thou woldest hit han y-wonne!

“Jerusalem, thou hast i-lore

The flour of al chivalerie;

Now Kyng Edward liveth na more:—

Alas! that he ȝet shulde deye!

He wolde ha rered up fol heyȝe

Oure baners, that bueth broht to grounde;

Wel longe we mowe clepe and crie

Er we a such kyng han y-founde!”

Nou is Edward of Carnarvan

King of Engelond al aplyht,

God lete him ner be worse man

Then is fader, ne lasse of myht

To holden is pore-men to ryht,

Ant understonde good consail,

Al Engelond for te wisse ant diht;

Of gode knyhtes darh him nout fail.

Thah mi tonge were mad of stel,

Ant min herte y-ȝote of bras,

The godnesse myht y never telle

That with Kyng Edward was:

Kyng, as thou art cleped conquerour,

In uch bataille thou hadest pris;

God bringe thi soule to the honour

That ever wes ant ever ys,

That lesteth ay withouten ende!

Bidde we God ant oure Ledy,

To thilke blisse Jesus us sende. Amen.

Translation.—All that are true of heart,—a while hearken to my song,—of grief that death hath wrought us now,—which makes me sigh and sorrow in turns.—Of a knight that was so powerful,—on whom God hath done his will;—methinks that death has done us wrong,—that he so soon shall lie still.

All England ought to know—of whom the song is that I sing;—of Edward the king that lies so low,—through all this world his name sprang.—Trewest man of all things,—and in war wary and wise,—for him we ought our hands to wring,—of Christendom he bare the prize.

Before that our king was dead,—he spoke as one that was in care,—“Clergy, knights, barons,” he said,—“I charge you by your oath,—that ye to England be true.—I die, I may not live any more;—help my son, and crown him now,—for he is next to be chosen.

“I bequeath my heart rightly,—that it be written at my devise,—over the sea that it be sent,—with fourscore knights all of repute,—in war that are wary and wise,—against the heathen for to fight,—to win the cross which lies low;—myself I would [go] if I could.”

King of France, thou hadst sin,—that thou shouldest seek counsel,—to hinder the will of King Edward—to go to the Holy Land:—that our king had taken in hand—all England to rule and teach,—to go into the Holy Land,—to win us heaven’s bliss.

The messenger to the pope came,—and said that our king was dead:—to his own hand the letter he took,—truly his heart was very full:—the pope himself the letter read,—and spake a word of great honour,—“Alas!” he said, “is Edward dead?—of Christendom he bare the flower!”

The pope to his chamber went,—he could speak no more for grief;—and after the cardinals he sent,—who knew much of Christ’s doctrine,—both the less and also the greater,—bade them both read and sing;—great grief might be seen there,—many a man to wring his hands.

The pope of Poitiers stood at his mass,—with very great solemnity,—there they began to bless the soul:—“King Edward, honoured be thou!—God give thy son, who comes after thee,—to bring to end what thou hast begun;—the holy cross made of wood,—so fain thou wouldst it have won.

“Jerusalem, thou hast lost—the flower of all chivalry;—now King Edward lives no more:—Alas! that he yet should die!—He would have reared up full high—our banners, that are brought to the ground;—very long we may call and cry—before we have found such a king!”

Now is Edward of Caernarvon—entirely King of England,—God let him never be worse man—than his father, nor less of might—to hold his commons to right,—and to understand good counsel,—all England to direct and manage;—of good knights there need not fail him.

Though my tongue were made of steel,—and my heart produced out of brass,—I could never tell the goodness—that was with King Edward:—King, as thou art called conqueror,—in each battle thou haddest prize;—God bring thy soul to the honour—which ever was and ever is,—which lasts ever without end!—Pray we God and our Lady,—to that bliss Jesus us send! Amen.

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The old cry against the oppression of the poor and honest by the rich, and the general corruption of the age, is repeated in the following piece. It probably describes the state of feeling amongst many in the earlier years of Edward’s reign.

SONG ON THE TIMES.

[MS. Reg. 12, C. XII. fol. 7, r^o. of reign of Edw. II.]

Quant honme deit parleir, videat quæ verba loquatur;

Sen covent aver, ne stultior inveniatur.

Quando quis loquitur, bote resoun reste therynne,

Derisum patitur, ant lutel so shal he wynne.

En seynt eglise sunt multi sæpe priores;

Summe beoth wyse, multi sunt inferiores.

When mon may mest do, tunc velle suum manifestat,

In donis also, si vult tibi præmia præstat.

Ingrato benefac, post hæc à peyne te verra;

Pur bon vin tibi lac non dat, nec rem tibi rendra.

Sensum custodi, quasi mieu valt sen qe ta mesoun;

Thah thou be mody, robur nichil est sine resoun.

Lex lyth doun over al, fallax fraus fallit ubique;

Ant love nys bote smal, quia gens se gestat inique.

Wo walketh wyde, quoniam movet ira potentes:

Ryht con nout ryde, quia vadit ad insipientes.

Dummodo fraus superest, lex nul nout lonen y londe;

Et quia sic res est, ryth may nout radlyche stonde.

Fals mon freynt covenaunt, quamvis tibi dicat, “habebis.”

Vix dabit un veu gaunt, lene les mon postea flebis.

Myn ant thyn duo sunt, qui frangunt plebis amorem;

Ce deus pur nus sunt facienda sæpe dolorem.

Tresoun dampnificat, et paucis est data resoun;

Resoun certificat, confundit et omnia tresoun.

Pees may nout wel be, dum stat per nomina bina;

Lord Crist, that thou se, per te sit in hiis medicina!

Infirmus moritur, thah lechcraft ligge bysyde;

Vivus decipitur, nis non that her shal abyde

Tels plusours troverez, qui de te plurima prendrount;

Au dreyn bien verrez, quod nullam rem tibi rendrount.

Esto pacificus, so myh thou welde thy wylle;

Also veridicus, ant stond pro tempore stille.

Pees seit en tere, per te, Deus, alma potestas!

Defendez guere, ne nos invadat egestas.

God Lord Almyhty, da pacem, Christe benigne!

Thou const al dyhty, fac ne pereamus in igne!

Translation.—When a man has to speak, let him consider what words he utters;—he ought to pay attention to them, lest he appear a fool.—When any one speaks, unless reason rest therein,—he is laughed at, and so he shall gain little.—In holy church there are often many who hold advanced situations;—some are wise, many are inferior.—When a man may do most, then he exhibits his will,—in gifts also, if he will he gives thee presents.—Do a kindness to an ungrateful man, and afterwards he will scarcely look at you;—he will not even give you milk for good wine, nor will he make you any return.—Take care of thy intellect, as of a thing which is worth more than thy house;—although thou be moody, strength is nothing without reason.—Law lies down over all, false fraud deceives everywhere;—and there is but little love, because people conduct themselves wickedly.—Woe walks wide, since anger moves those who are powerful;—right cannot ride, because it goes to the ignorant.—Now that fraud is alive, law will not dwell in the land;—and since the matter is in that position, right may not easily stand.—The false man breaks his promise, although he say to thee, “thou shalt have it.”—He will scarcely give an old glove, ... thou shalt afterwards weep.—Mine and thine are two, which break the love of the people;—these two for us will cause frequent grief.—Treason injures, and reason is given to few;—reason makes sure, while treason confounds all things.—Peace may not well be, while it stands by two names;—Lord Christ, do thou look to it, through thee may there be a medicine for these things!—The sick man dies, although the art of medicine lie by his side;—the living man is deceived, there is none who shall abide here.—You will find many such as will take very much from you;—in the end you will see well, that they will return you nothing.—Be pacific, so mayest thou possess thy will;—also a teller of truth, and stand for the time still.—May there be peace in the land, through thee, God, kind power!—forbid war, lest want invade us.—Good Lord Almighty, give peace, O benignant Christ!—Thou canst do all things, hinder us from perishing in the fire.

---

The following song appears to have been made in the latter end of the year 1311, on the occasion of the King’s journey to the North, where he was joined by his lately banished favourite, Peter de Gaveston, and disregarded the charter which he had confirmed in the beginning of the October of that year.

ON THE KING’S BREAKING HIS CONFIRMATION OF MAGNA CHARTA.

[The Auchinleck MS. in the Advocates’ Library, at Edinburgh, art. 21, of the reign of Edw. II.]

L’en puet fere et defere,

Ceo fait-il trop sovent;

It nis nouther wel ne faire;

Therfore Engelond is shent.

Nostre prince de Engletere,

Par le consail de sa gent,

At Westminster after the feire

Made a gret parlement.

La chartre fet de cyre,

Jeo l’enteink et bien le crey,

It was holde to neih the fire,

And is molten al awey.

Ore ne say mès que dire,

Tout i va à Tripolay,

Hundred, chapitle, court, and shire,

Al hit goth a devel way.

Des plusages de la tere

Ore escotez un sarmoun,

Of iiij. wise-men that ther were,

Whi Engelond is brouht adoun.

The ferste seide, “I understonde

Ne may no king wel ben in londe,

Under God Almihte,

But he cunne himself rede,

Hou he shal in londe lede

Everi man wid rihte.

For might is riht,

Liht is night,

And fiht is fliht.

For miht is riht, the lond is laweles;

For niht is liht, the lond is loreles;

For fiht is fliht, the lond is nameles.”

That other seide a word ful god,

“Whoso roweth aȝein the flod,

Off sorwe he shal drinke;

Also hit fareth bi the unsele,

A man shal have litel hele

Ther agein to swinke.

Nu on is two,

Another is wo,

And frend is fo.

For on is two, that lond is streintheles;

For wel is wo, the lond is reutheles;

For frend is fo, the lond is loveles.”

That thridde seide, “It is no wonder

Off thise eyres that goth under,

Whan theih comen to londe

Proude and stoute, and ginneth ȝelpe,

Ac of thing that sholde helpe

Have theih noht on honde.

Nu lust haveth leve,

Thef is reve,

And pride hath sleve.

For lust hath leve, the lond is theweles;

For thef is reve, the lond is penyles;

For pride hath sleve, the lond is almusles.”

The ferthe seide, that he is wod

That dwelleth to muchel in the flod,

For gold or for auhte;

For gold or silver, or any wele,

Hunger or thurst, hete or chele,

Al shal gon to nohte.

Nu wille is red,

Wit is qued,

And god is ded.

For wille is red, the lond is wrecful;

For wit is qued, the lond is wrongful;

For god is ded, the lond is sinful.

Wid wordes as we han pleid,

Sum wisdom we han seid

Off olde men and ȝunge;

Off many a thinge that is in londe,

Whoso coude it understonde,

So have I told wid tongue.

Riche and pore, bonde and fre,

That love is god, ȝe mai se;

Love clepeth ech man brother;

For it that he to blame be,

Forȝif hit him par charité,

Al theih he do other.

Love we God, and he us alle,

That was born in an oxe stalle,

And for us don on rode.

His swete herte-blod he let

For us, and us faire het

That we sholde be gode.

Be we nu gode and stedefast,

So that we muwen at the last

Haven hevene blisse.

To God Almihti I preie

Lat us never in sinne deie,

That joye for to misse.

Ac lene us alle so don here,

And leve in love and god manere,

The devel for to shende;

That we moten alle i-fere

Sen him that us bouhte dere,

In joye withoute ende. Amen.

Translation.—A person may make, and unmake,—it is what he too often does;—it is neither well nor fair;—on account of it England is ruined.—Our prince of England,—by the counsel of his people,—at Westminster after the fair—made a great parliament.—The charter he made of wax,—so I understand, and I readily believe it,—it was held too near the fire,—and is all melted away.—Now I know not what more to say,—all goes to Tripoly,—hundred, chapter, court, and shire,—all it goes the devil’s way.—Of the wisest men of the land—now listen to a discourse,—of four wise men that there were,—why England is brought down.

The first said, “I understand—no king may be prosperous in land—under God Almighty,—unless he can counsel himself,—how he shall in land lead—every man with right.—For might is right,—light is darkness,—and fight is flight.—Because might is right, the land is lawless;—because darkness is light, the land is without doctrine;—because fight is flight, the land is without reputation.”

The second said a very good word,—“Whoever rows against the flood,—he shall drink of sorrow;—thus it fares by the unfortunate,—a man shall have little strength—to labour against it.—Now one is two,—another is woe,—and friend is foe.—Because one is two, the land is without strength;—because weal is woe, the land is without ruth;—because friend is foe, the land is without love.”

The third said, “It is no wonder—of these heirs that go under,—when they come to land—proud and stout, and begin to yelp,—but of anything that might help—they have nought in hand.—Now lust hath leave,—thief is magistrate,—and pride hath sleeves.—Because lust hath leave, the land is destitute of morality;—because thief is magistrate, the land is pennyless;—because pride hath sleeves, the land is without alms.”

The fourth said, “That he is mad—who dwells too much in the flood,—for gold or for property;—for gold or silver, or any weal,—hunger or thirst, heat or cold,—all shall go to nothing.—Now will is counsel,—wit is wicked,—and good is dead.—Because will is counsel, the land is full of revenge;—because wit is wicked, the land is full of wrong;—because good is dead, the land is full of sin.”

With words as we have played,—some wisdom we have said—of old men and young;—of many a thing that is in land,—whoever might understand it,—thus have I told with tongue.

Rich and poor, bond and free,—that love is good, ye may see;—love calls every man brother;—for that for which he may be to blame,—forgive it him in charity,—although he do other.

Love we God, and may he love us all,—who was born in an oxe’s stable,—and for us placed on the cross.—His sweet heart’s blood he shed—for us, and bade us fairly—that we should be good.

Be we now good and steadfast,—so that we may at last—have the bliss of heaven.—To God Almighty I pray,—let us never die in sin,—to miss that joy.

But grant us all so to do here,—and live in love and good manner,—the devil for to shame;—that we may all in company—see him that bought us dearly,—in joy everlasting. Amen.

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Edward’s wretched favourite, Peter de Gaveston, was beheaded by the Barons in the May of 1312. The two following songs exhibit the general feeling of exultation which attended this execution. It is scarcely necessary to say that they are parodies on two hymns in the old church service.

SONGS ON THE DEATH OF PETER DE GAVESTON.

[MS. Trin. Coll. Cambr. O. 9. 38. 15th cent. on paper.]

I.

De Petro de Gaverstone.

Vexilla regni prodeunt,

fulget cometa comitum,

Comes dico Lancastriæ

qui domuit indomitum;

Quo vulneratus pestifer

mucronibus Walensium,

Truncatus est atrociter

in sexto mense mensium.

Impleta sunt quæ censuit

auctoritas sublimium;

Mors Petri sero patuit,—

regnavit diu nimium.

Arbor mala succiditur,

dum collo Petrus cæditur:—

Sit benedicta framea

quæ Petrum sic aggreditur!

Beata manus jugulans!

beatus jubens jugulum!

Beatum ferrum feriens

quem ferre nollet sæculum!

O crux, quæ pati pateris

hanc miseram miseriam,

Tu nobis omnem subtrahe

miseriæ materiam!

Te, summa Deus Trinitas,

oramus prece sedula,

Fautores Petri destruas

et conteras per sæcula! Amen.

II.

Pange, lingua, necem Petri qui turbavit Angliam,

Quem rex amans super omnem prætulit Cornubiam;

Vult hinc comes, et non Petrus, dici per superbiam.

Gens est regni de thesauri fraude facta condolens,

Quando Petrus de thesauro prodige fit insolens,

Quid ventura sibi dies pariat non recolens.

Hoc opus nostræ salutis, quod Petrus interiit;

Multiformis proditoris ars tota deperiit;

Ex nunc omen cor lætetur, quia væ præteriit.

Quando venit apta rei plenitudo temporis,

Est præcisum caput ei de junctura corporis;

Turbans turbas intra regnum nunc turbatur a foris.

Nulli volens comparari, summo fastu præditus,

Se nolente subdit collum passioni deditus;

De condigna morte cujus est hic hympnus editus.

Perdit caput qui se caput paribus præposuit:

Rite corpus perforatur cujus cor sic tumuit:

Terra, pontus, astra, mundus, plaudant quod hic corruit.

Trux, crudelis inter omnes, nunc a pompis abstinet;

Jam non ultra sicut comes, vel ut rex, se continet;

Vir indignus, morte dignus, mortem dignam sustinet.

Flexis ramis arbor illa ruit in proverbia;

Nam rigor lentescit ille quem dedit superbia;

Sic debet humiliari qui sapit sublimia.

Ædes Petri qua tenetur non sit fulta robore;

Sit prophanus alter locus, sit et in dedecore,

Quem fœdus cruor fœdavit fusus Petri corpore!

Gloria sit creatori! gloria comitibus

Qui fecerunt Petrum mori cum suis carminibus!

A modo sit pax et plausus in Anglorum finibus! Amen.

Translation.—I. The banners of the kingdom go forth, the comet of Earls shines, I mean the Earl of Lancaster, who tamed him whom nobody else could tame; whereby the pestiferous one being wounded by the blades of the Welsh, was disgracefully beheaded in the sixth month. What the authority of the powers above willed has been fulfilled; the death of Peter at last has been effected,—he reigned much too long. The bad tree is cut down, when Peter is struck on the neck:—Blessed be the weapon which thus approached Peter! Blessed be the hand which executed him! blessed the man who ordered the execution! blessed the steel which struck him whom the world would not bear any longer! O Cross, which allowed to be suffered this wretched misery, do thou take from us all the material of misery. Thee, highest God in Trinity, we pray earnestly, destroy and crush for ever the maintainers of Peter. Amen.

II. Celebrate, my tongue, the death of Peter who disturbed England, whom the king in his love for him placed over all Cornwall; hence in his pride he will be called Earl, and not Peter.—The people of the kingdom was made sorrowful for the fraud upon the treasure, when Peter becomes wastefully insolent with the treasury, not bearing in mind what the future day may produce for him.—This is the work of our salvation, that Peter is dead; all the artfulness of the multifarious traitor has perished; henceforth let the good omen rejoice our hearts, for sorrow is past.—When the fulness of time which was fit for the thing came, his head is cut off from the juncture of the body; he who raised troubles within the kingdom is now troubled from without.—He who was unwilling to have an equal, clothed in the extreme of pride, against his will bends his neck to the executioner; of whose merited death this hymn is set forth.—He who placed himself as a head above his equals, loses his own head; justly his body is pierced, whose heart was so puffed up; both land, sea, stars, and world, rejoice in his fall.—Ferocious and cruel among all men, he ceases now from his pomp; now he no longer behaves himself like an earl, or a king; the unworthy man, worthy of death, undergoes the death which he merits.—This tree with its branches bent falls into a proverb; for the stiffness which pride gave is softened; thus ought the ambitious and aspiring man to be humbled.—May the house of Peter, in which he is held, not be supported in strength; may the other place be profane, and may it be in disgrace, which the filthy gore spilled from Peter’s body has defiled!—Glory be to the Creator! Glory to the Earls who have made Peter die with his charms! Henceforth may there be peace and rejoicing throughout England! Amen.

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The events of the Scottish war during the reign of Edward II. were not of a character to draw forth the songs of triumph which had attended the campaigns of his father. The loss of his father’s conquests, and the reverses of his own arms, while they produced universal dejection, only tended to widen the breach which his own folly had made between himself and his people. The following song was made in 1313, immediately after the disastrous battle of Bannockburn, where the Earl of Gloucester was slain. The writer, while he laments the humiliation to which his country had been reduced, glances from time to time at the evil counsels which had led to it.

THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN.

[From MS. Cotton. Titus, A. XX., fol. 68 r^o. written in the reign of Ed. III.]

Quomodo comes Gloverniæ fuerat occisus apud Strivelyn, et Anglici victi.

Me cordis augustia cogit mira fari,

Scotiæ quod Anglia cæpit subjugari:

Nova jam prodigia dicitur patrari,

Quando matri filia sumit dominari.

Regionum Anglia plurium matrona,

Cuï tributaria jam dabantur dona,

Proth dolor! nunc cogitur nimis esse prona

Filiæ, qua læditur materna corona.

Exiit per Angliam edictum vulgare,

Admonendo quempiam arma præparare,

Ut adiret Scotiam phalanx vendicare

Jura, vel injuriam posse vindicare.

Ad quod thema debeam nimis protelare:

Rex cæpit militiam suam adunare,

Inconsultus abiit Scotos debellare.

Ira sponte rediit nolens plus obstare.

Erant in excercitu plures generosi,

Milites in exitu nimis et pomposi;

Cum ad bellum venerant tot impetuosi,

Satis promti fuerant hostes animosi.

Animosi fuerant et hoc apparebat;

Cum partes certaverant, illa permanebat

Stabilis, sed fugiit quæ superbiebat.

Inproba succubuit, astuta vincebat.

Inauditus ingruit inter hos conflictus;

Primitus prosiliit Acteus invictus,

Comes heu! Gloverniæ dans funestos ictus;

Assistens in acie qui fit derelictus.

Hic phalangas hostium disrupi coegit,

Et virorum fortium corpora subegit;

Sed fautor domesticus sibi quem elegit,

Hic non erat putitus quando factum fregit.

Hic est proditorius vir Bartholomeus,

In cunctis victoriis quem confundat Deus!

Domino quod varius fit ut Pharisæus.

Hinc Judæ vicarius morte fiet reus.

Videns contra dominum hostes desævire,

Fingit se sex seminum longius abire;

Domino quod renuit suo subvenire,

Proditor hic meruit tormenta obire.

Plures sunt quem perperam comes est seductus,

Ut ovis ad victimam et ad mortem ductus,

Qui [sunt] per quos oritur tam vulgaris luctus,

Hoc satis cognoscitur per eorum fructus.

Quorum virus Anglia tota toxicatur;

Vulgaris justitia sic et enervatur;

Regale judicium per hos offuscatur;

Ex hoc in exilium fides relegatur.

Victa jacet caritas, et virtus calcatur;

Viret ingratuitas, et fraus dominatur;

Quicquid in hiis finibus mali perpetratur,

Dictis proditoribus totum inputatur.

Iste deceptorius vir non erat solus,

Per quem proditorius jam fiebat dolus;

Alter sed interfuit, quem non celet polus,

Et fiat ut meruit infernalis bolus.

Hujusmodi milites, regno pervicaces,

Sathanæ satellites, sunt nimis rapaces;

Regis si sint judices undique veraces,

Destruent veneficos suos et sequaces.

Capitis sententiam pati meruerunt,

Cum sponte militiam talem prodiderunt;

Qui fuerunt rustici, sicut permanserunt,

Comitis domestici fugam elegerunt.

Hii fraude multiplica virum prodiderunt,

Inpia gens Scotica quem circumdederunt;

Ipsum a dextrario suo prostraverunt,

Et prostrati vario modo ceciderunt

Fideles armigeri qui secum fuerunt;

Milites et cæteri secum corruerunt;

Cum sui succurrere sibi voluerunt,

Hostibus resistere tot non valuerunt.

Sic comes occubuit præ cunctis insignis,

Qui sua distribuit prædia malignis;

Sibi quisque caveat istis intersignis,

Jam fidem ne præbeat talibus indignis.

Ex hoc illi comites actibus periti,

Adhuc qui superstites sunt, fiant muniti,

Alias in prælio cum sistant uniti,

Ne sic proditorio telo sint attriti.

Cruciatur Anglia nimio dolore,

Tali quod versutia privatur honore,

Muniatur cautius mentis cum labore,

Error ne novissimus pejor sit priore.

Consulo comitibus adhuc qui sunt vivi,

Quod sint proditoribus amodo nocivi;

Sic et per industriam omnes sint captivi:

Anglici ad Scotiam fiant progressivi.

Credo verum dicere, non mentiri conor;

Jam cæpit deficere nostri gentis honor;

Comitem cum lividus mortis texit color,

Angliæ tunc horridus statim crevit dolor.

Nostræ gentis Angliæ quidam sunt captivi;

Currebant ab acie quidam semivivi;

Qui fuerunt divites fiunt redemptivi;

Quod delirant nobiles plectuntur Achivi.

Mentes ducum Angliæ sunt studendo fessæ,

Nam fœdus justitiæ certo caret esse;

Ergo rex potentiæ stirps radice Jessæ,

Fautores perfidiæ ducat ad non esse!

Quando sævit aquilum, affricus quievit;

Et australi populo dampnum mortis crevit.

Anglia victoria frui consuëvit,

Sed prolis perfidia mater inolevit.

Si scires, Glovernia, tua fata, fleres,

Eo quod in Scotia tuus ruit hæres;

Te privigni capient quorum probra feres;

Ne te far ... facient, presens regnum teres.

Facta es ut domina viro viduata,

Cujus sunt solamina in luctum mutata;

Tu es sola civitas capite truncata;

Tuos casus Trinitas fæcundet beata!

Translation.—Perplexity of heart compels me to tell wonderful things, that England begins to be subjected to Scotland: it is said that new prodigies are now performed, when the daughter takes upon her to lord it over the mother.—England the matron of many regions, to whom tributary gifts were given, is now, alas! constrained too much to be prostrate to the daughter, by whom the maternal crown is injured.—A general proclamation went through England, admonishing everybody to take up arms, that the army might go to Scotland to vindicate our rights, or to be able to avenge our injury.—To which theme I ought to procrastinate very much; the king began to assemble his troops, unadvisedly he went to make war on the Scots: his anger voluntarily subsided, unwilling longer to hold out.—There were in the army many nobles, knights who were too showy and pompous; when so many impetuous men came to the conflict, the courageous enemies were ready enough.—They were courageous, as will appear; when the two sides engaged, that one remained firm, but that which had shown so much pride fled. The wicked party succumbed, the cunning one conquered.—An unheard-of battle thickened between them; first rushed forward the unconquered Actæus, the Earl of Gloucester, alas! giving fatal blows; who, standing in the thick of the battle, is deserted.—He compelled the troops of the enemy to break, and subdued the bodies of strong men; but one of his own chosen retainers, he was not a fool when he ruined the affair.—This is the traitorous man, Bartholomew, whom in all victories may God confound! Because he has been to his master as changeable as a Pharisee. Hence as the representative of Judas he shall be condemned to death.—Seeing the enemy’s rage against his master, he pretends that he had been out more than six weeks; because he refused to come to his master’s support, this traitor has deserved to be put to the rack.—Many are they whereby the Earl was seduced, led like a sheep to the sacrifice and to death; through whom such common lamentation arises, is sufficiently known by their fruits.—With whose venom all England is poisoned; and thus common justice is weakened; by these the royal judgment is darkened; in consequence of this, faith is driven into exile.—Charity lies subdued, and virtue is trodden down; ingratitude flourishes, and fraud rules; whatever of evil is perpetrated in this country, is all the work of the aforesaid traitors.—This deceitful man was not the only one by whom the art of treason was now exercised; but there was another concerned in it, whom may heaven not conceal, and may he become, as he deserves, a morsel of hell.—Knights such as these, obstinate against the kingdom, retainers of Satan, are too rapacious; if the King’s judges every where are true, they will destroy the enchanters and their followers.—They deserved to suffer judgment of decapitation, since voluntarily they have betrayed such a soldiery; the Earl’s domestics, who were clowns, as they have remained, took to flight.—These by a multifarious treason betrayed their lord, whom the impious people of Scotland surrounded; they struck him down from his steed, and the faithful esquires who were with him fell struck down in different ways; the knights and others fell along with him; when his friends tried to succour him, they were not able to resist so many enemies.—Thus died an Earl who was distinguished above all others, who had given his property to wicked men; let every one have a care to himself, after these examples, that he give not henceforth trust to such unworthy people.—By this let those Earls who are still alive, learning from experience, be on their guard, when at another time they stand united in battle, that they be not thus bruised by the weapon of treason.—England is tormented with very much grief, that she is deprived of her honour by such craftiness; let her be fortified more cautiously, with labour of mind, that the last error be not worse than the former.—I advise the Earls who are still alive, that henceforward they destroy traitors; and thus by their industry let them all be made prisoners; let the English thus make their way into Scotland.—I believe that I tell the truth, I endeavour not to say what is false; now the honour of our nation begins to decline; when the livid colour of death spread itself over the Earl, then immediately grew the terrible grief of England.—Of our people of England some are in captivity; some ran away from the battle half dead; they who were rich are made ransom; because the nobles go mad, the common people are the sufferers.—The minds of the chieftains of England are weary with studying, for the league of justice is without any certain existence; may therefore the King of power, who sprang from the root of Jesse, destroy utterly the maintainers of perfidy!—When the north-east wind rages, the south-west wind dropped; and to the people of the south the pain of death increased. England used to obtain victory, but by the treachery of the offspring the mother hath lost her savour.—If you knew, Gloucester, your fate, you would weep, because your heir perishes in Scotland; thy sons-in-law will take thee, from whom thou wilt suffer disgrace; lest they should make thee ... thou will bruise the present government.—Thou art made as a lady widowed of her husband, whose comfort is changed into weeping; thou art a solitary city deprived of thy head; may the blessed Trinity amend thy fortune!

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The last piece in our collection is rather different in character from those which have preceded it. One of the most unpopular acts of this weak reign was the execution of the Earl of Lancaster in 1322. The love which the people bore towards him, led them to sanctify his memory. A martyr in what was loudly proclaimed to be the cause of God, his countrymen believed that he testified his unshaken love for those in whose defence he had fallen by miracles performed at his tomb, and a regular form of service was composed for his worship.

THE OFFICE OF ST. THOMAS OF LANCASTER.

[MS. Reg. 12, c. XII. fol. 1, r^o. of the end of the reign of Edward II., or beginning of that of Edw. III., written all as prose.]

Ant.—Gaude Thoma, ducum decus, lucerna Lancastriæ,

Qui per necem imitaris Thomam Cantuariæ;

Cujus caput conculcatur pacem ob ecclesiæ,

Atque tuum detruncatur causa pacis Angliæ;

Esto nobis pius tutor in omni discrimine.

Oratio.—Deus, qui, pro pace et tranquillitate regnicolarum Angliæ, beatum Thomam martyrem tuum atque comitem gladio persecutoris occumbere voluisti, concede propitius, ut omnes qui ejus memoriam devote venerantur in terris, præmia condigna cum ipso consequi mereantur in cœlis, ꝑ đn. ñ.

Prosa.—Sospitati dat ægrotos precum Thomæ fusio;

Comes pius mox languentum adest in præsidio;

Relevantur ab infirmis infirmi suffragio.

Sancti Thomæ quod monstratur signorum indicio.

Vas regale trucidatur regni pro remedio.

O quam probat sanctum ducem morborum curatio!

Ergo laudes Thomæ sancto canamus cum gaudio;

Nam devote poscens illum, statim proculdubio

sospes regreditur.

Sequentia.—Summum regem honoremus,

dulcis pro memoria

Martyris, quem collaudemus

summa reverentia.

Thomas comes appellatur,

stemmate egregio;

Sine causa condempnatur,

natus thoro regio.

Qui cum plebem totam cernit

labi sub naufragio,

Non pro jure mori spernit,

lætali commercio.

O flos militum regalis,

tuam hanc familiam

Semper conserves a malis,

perducens ad gloriam! Amen.

Pange, lingua, gloriosi comitis martyrium,

Sanguinisque præciosi Thomæ floris militum,

Germinisque generosi laudis, lucis comitum.

De parentis utriusque regali prosapia

Prodit Thomas, cujus pater proles erat regia,

Matrem atque sublimavit reginam Navarria.

Dux fidelis suum gregem dum dispersum conspicit,

Æmulumque suum regem sibi motum meminit,

Mox carnalem juxta legem in mirum contremuit.

Benedicti benedictus capitur vigilia,

Agonista fit invictus statim die tertia,

Diræ neci est addictus, ob quod luget Anglia.

Proht dolor! acephalatur plebis pro juvamine,

Suorumque desolatur militum stipamine,

Dum dolose defiandatur per sudam Hoylandiæ.

Ad sepulcrum cujus fiunt frequenter miracula,

Cæci, claudi, surdi, muti, membra paralytica,

Prece sua consequuntur optata præsidia.

Trinitati laus et honor, virtus et potentia

Patri, proli, flaminique sacro sit per sæcula,

Quæ nos salvat a peccatis Thomæ per suffragia! Amen.

O jam Christi pietas,

Atque Thomæ caritas

palam elucescit!

Heu! nunc languet æquitas,

Viget et impietas,

veritas vilescit!

Nempe Thomæ bonitas,

Ejus atque sanctitas,

indies acrescit;

Ad cujus tumbam sospitas

Ægris datur, ut veritas

cunctis nunc clarescit.

Copiosæ caritatis

Thoma pugil strenue,

Qui pro lege libertatis

decertasti Angliæ,

Interpella pro peccatis

nostris patrem gloriæ

Ut ascribat cum beatis

nos cœlestis curiæ. Amen.

Translation.—Anthem.—Rejoice, Thomas, the glory of chieftains, the light of Lancaster, who by thy death imitatest Thomas of Canterbury; whose head was broken on account of the peace of the Church, and thine is cut off for the cause of the peace of England; be to us an affectionate guardian in every difficulty.

Prayer. O God, who, for the peace and tranquillity of the inhabitants of England, willed that the blessed Thomas thy martyr and Earl should fall by the sword of the persecutor, grant propitious, that all who devoutly reverence his memory on earth, may merit to obtain worthy reward along with him in heaven, through our Lord.

Prosa. The pouring out of prayers to Thomas restores the sick to health; the pious Earl comes immediately to the aid of those who are feeble; they are relieved from their infirmities by the suffrage of one who was infirm. So that it is shown by the evidence of the miracles of St. Thomas, that the royal vessel is beheaded for the cure of the kingdom. O how the cure of diseases declares the sainted leader! Therefore with rejoicing let us sing praises to St. Thomas; for he who asks him devoutly, immediately without doubt he will return healed.

Sequence. Let us honour the highest King, for the memory of the sweet martyr, whom we join in praising with the utmost reverence. He is called Earl Thomas, of an illustrious race; he is condemned without cause, who was born of a royal bed. Who when he perceived that the whole commons were falling into wreck, did not shrink from dying for the right, in the fatal commerce. O royal flower of knights, preserve ever from evils this thy family, bringing them to glory! Amen.

Declare, my tongue, the martyrdom of the glorious Earl, and of the precious blood of Thomas the flower of knights, and of the praise of the noble sprout, the light of Earls.—Thomas sprang from a royal race by both his parents, whose father was the son of a king, and whose mother Navarre raised to be a queen.—The faithful leader when he saw that his flock was dispersed, and he called to mind that his king was moved with jealousy towards him, soon according to the law of the flesh he trembled wonderfully.—The blessed man is taken on the vigil of St. Benet, on the third day he is suddenly made an unconquered champion, he is delivered to dire death, on account of which England mourns.—Alas! he is beheaded for the aid of the commons, he is deserted by the company of his knights, whilst he is treacherously deserted by Robert de Hoyland.—At whose tomb are frequently performed miracles; the blind, the lame, the deaf, the dumb, and paralytics, by his prayer obtain the help they desire.—Praise and honour, virtue and power be to the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, for ever, which preserve us from sin through the intercession of Thomas! Amen.

O now the piety of Christ, and the charity of Thomas, shine openly! Alas! equity now pines away, and impiety flourishes, truth is made vile! Yet the goodness of Thomas, and his sanctity, daily increase; at whose tomb health is given to the sick, that the truth may now be clear to all.

O Thomas, strenuous champion of plentiful charity, who didst combat for the law of England’s liberty, intercede for our sins with the Father of Glory, that he may give us a place with the blessed in the heavenly court. Amen.

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[APPENDIX.]

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EXTRACTS FROM PETER LANGTOFT’S CHRONICLE.