The new knights were therefore sent, who, on approaching, made signs for them not to shoot, as they wished to speak with them. When they had come near enough to be heard, they said, “Now attend: the king orders you to send back his banners, and we hope he will have mercy on you.” The banners were directly given up, and brought to the king. It was then ordered, under pain of death, that all those who had obtained the king’s letters should deliver them up. Some did so, but not all. The king, on receiving them, had them torn in their presence. You must know that from the instant when the king’s banners were surrendered these fellows kept no order; but the greater part, throwing their bows to the ground, took to their heels, and returned to London.
Sir Robert Knolles was in a violent rage that they were not attacked, and the whole of them slain; but the king would not consent to it, saying he would have ample revenge on them,—which in truth he afterwards had.
Thus did these people disperse and run away on all sides. The king, the lords, and the army returned in good array to London, to their great joy. The king immediately took the road to the Wardrobe to visit the princess his mother, who had remained there two days and two nights under the greatest fears, as indeed she had cause. On seeing the king her son, she was mightily rejoiced, and said, “Ha, ha, fair son! what pain and anguish have I not suffered for you this day!”—“Certainly, madam,” replied the king: “I am well assured of that; but now rejoice and thank God, for it behooves us to praise him, as I have this day regained my inheritance and the kingdom of England which I had lost.”
The king remained the whole day with his mother. The lords retired to their own houses. A proclamation was made through all the streets, that every person who was not an inhabitant of London, and who had not resided there for a whole year, should instantly depart; for that, if there were any found of contrary description on Sunday morning at sunrise, they would be arrested as traitors to the king, and have their heads cut off. After this proclamation had been heard, no one dared to infringe it, but all departed instantly to their former homes quite discomfited. John Ball and Jack Straw were found hidden in an old ruin, thinking to steal away; but this they could not do, for they were betrayed by their own men. The king and the lords were well pleased with their seizure: their heads were cut off, as was that of Tyler, and fixed on London Bridge in the place of those gallant men whom they beheaded on the Thursday. The news of this was sent through the neighboring counties, that those might hear of it who were on their way to London, according to the orders these rebels had sent them; upon which they instantly returned to their homes without daring to advance farther.
CHAUCER’S BALLADE SENT TO KING RICHARD.
Somtyme the worlde was so stedfast and stable,
man’s heldThat mannes worde was holde obligacioun;
it false deceivingAnd now hyt is so fals and disceyvable
deed (as concluding or binding a man)That worde and dede, as in conclusyoun,
Is like nothing upside-downYs lyke noothyng; for turned up-so-doun
all meed (gain)Is alle this worlde, for mede and wilfulnesse,
lackThat alle is loste for lakke of stedfastnesse.
What maketh this worlde to be so variable
(desire, that folk have, to be in dissension)But luste, that folke hav in dissensioun?
among now held unfitFor amonges us nowe a man is holde unhable,
if (unless) can some collusionBut yf he kan, by somme collusyoun,
neighborDo his neghbor wronge or oppressioun.
wretchednessWhat causeth this but wilfulle wrecchednesse,
all is lackThat alle ys loste for lakke of stedfastnesse?
Truth reasonTrouthe is put doun, resoun is holden fable;
Virtue hath noVertu hathe now noo dominacioun;
Pity is mercifulPitee exiled, noo man ys merciable;
Through covetousness blindedThurgh covytyse is blente discrecioun;
The worlde hath made permutacioun
From right from truth ficklenessFro ryht to wrong, fro trouthe to fikelenesse,
That alle ys lost for lakke of stedfastnesse.
LENVOYE.
O Prince desire to be honourable;
CherishCherysshe thy folke, and hate extorsioun;
SufferSuffre nothing that may be reprovable
estate doneTo thyn estaate, doon in thy regioun;
swordShew forth the swerde of castigacioun;
Dread (fear) truthDrede God, do law, love trouthe and worthinesse,
wed folk againAnd wedde thy folke ayeyne to stedfastnesse.