The Reign of King Roger.
“She is no sheep who goes walking with the wolf.”
Russian Proverb.
And now, were I inditing a very chronicle, should I dip my quill next in the red ink, and write in full great letters—“Here beginneth the reign of King Edward of Windsor, the Third after the Conquest.”
But, to scribe soothliness, I cannot do so. For not for four years thereafter did he in verity begin to reign. And what I should write, if I writ truth, should be—“Here beginneth the reign of King Roger de Mortimer, the First in England.”
Now, here cometh an other matter I have noted. When man setteth him up to do that whereto he was not born, and hath not used himself, he is secure to do the same with never so much more din and outrage (extravagance) than he to whom it cometh of nature. If man be but a bedel (herald, crier) he shall rowt (Shout) like a lion the first day; and a prince’s charetter (charioteer) shall be a full braver (finer, more showy) man than the prince his master. Sir Roger made a deal more bruit than ever the King himself; that during all these four years was meek and debonair (humble and gentle), as though he abode his time. He wrought what he would (which was mostly ill), and bare him like those of whom the Psalmist speaketh, that said, “Our lips are of us, who is our lord?” (Psalm 9 4, Rolle’s translation.) He held up but a finger, and first the King, and all else after, followed along his path. Truly, I fault not the King; poor lad, he was in evil case, and might well enough have found hard to know the way he should go. But I do fault them that might have oped his eyes, and instead thereof, as being smoother way, chose to run after King Mortimer with his livery on their backs.
“How many of them knew the man, thinkest?” saith Jack, that had come in while I writ the last piece.
“Jack!” cried I. “What, to see him do that he did, more in especial when his pride was bolned (swollen, pulled up) by being create Earl of March—when he had larger following than the King himself, having nine score knights at his feet; when he arose from the King’s table ere the King stirred, as though he were lord and master of all; when he suffered the King to rise on his coming into the presence, all meekly and courteously, yet himself, when the King entered, kept his seat as he micht afore a servitor; when he walked even with the King, and sometimes afore him; when he was wont to put him down, and mock at him, and make him a laughing-stock. I have heard him myself say to the King—‘Hold thy peace, lad!’ and the King took it as sweetly as if he had been swearing of allegiance.”
“I have eyes in mine head, my fair warrior, and ears belike. I saw so much as thou—maybe a little more, since I was something oftener in my Lord’s company than thou.”
“But thou sawest what he was?” said I.
“So did I; and sorry am I to have demerited the wrath of Dame Cicely de Chaucombe, for that I oped not the King my master’s even.”