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.
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.