THE STATE OF IRELAND (1399).

FOOTNOTES:[100]Walshingham, in his account of this Parliament, adds: "A knight of the county of Lincoln, a man of great discretion and very eloquent."

FOOTNOTES:

[100]Walshingham, in his account of this Parliament, adds: "A knight of the county of Lincoln, a man of great discretion and very eloquent."

Source.—Roll of Proceedings of the King's Council in Ireland(Rolls Series), Appendix, 264.

Item. As regards other matters touching the state of the said land, be it known that the Irish enemies are strong and arrogant and of great power, and there is neither rule nor power to resist them, for the English archers are not able, nor are they willing, to ride against them, without stronger paramount power.

Item. The English families in all parts of the land which are rebels, as the Butyllers, Powers, Gerardynes, Bermynghames, Daltons, Barrettes, Dillons, and the others, who will not obey the law nor submit to justice, but destroy the poor, liege people of the land, and take their living from them and rob them, will needs be called gentlemen of blood and idlemen, whereas they are sturdy robbers and are not amenable to the law, and will make prisoners of the English and put them to greater duress than do the Irish enemies, and this from default of the execution of justice.

Item. In addition to this the said English rebels are accomplices of the Irish enemies and will not displease them, and thus between the one and the other the loyal English are destroyed and injured.

Item. By the rebellion and falseness of the English rebels on the one side, and by the war of the Irish enemies on the other, the King has no profit of the revenues of the land, because the law cannot be executed, nor any officer dare put it, nor go to put it, in execution.

Source.—Traison et Mort du Roy Richart(English Historical Society), 195et seq.

[Translated from manuscript (Bibliothèque du Roi) No. 904, Fonds St. Victor.]

Item. The same day that the Earl of Huntingdon, Duke of Exeter, went to seek the Duke [Henry of Lancaster], he found him lodging in his own city of Chester, with his army. And that same day, which was Sunday, the twentieth day of August, the year aforesaid, the duke sent to King Richard the Earl of Northumberland, who was aged, that the King might the rather believe his words and not be so overbearing with him as with a younger person; and the said earl had with him a company of one hundred lancers and two hundred archers. And know that, as soon as the Duke of Lancaster and the Earl of Huntingdon had spoken together, the Earl of Huntingdon sent one of his people, by the command of the duke, to the Earl of Northumberland, and gave him two letters, one of which he was to take to the King from his brother, requesting him to believe the message he should deliver to him, and the other to the Earl of Northumberland.

It is a truth that the Earl of Northumberland went to King Richard with (only) seven attendants, for he had left his people in ambush between two mountains, and had commanded them that they should not stir till they had tidings from him, or of the King, whom they much longed to hold. And when the said earl went towards the King, he found him in an exceedingly strong castle, surrounded on all sides by the sea, which is called Conway; and thither he went, with all submission, he and his seven attendants and saluted the King very humbly, as did his attendants. The King had with him not more than five or six notable persons....

When the King perceived the said earl, he caused him to rise, and asked him, "What news?" Then said the earl, "My dear sire, I am sent to you by your cousin Henry of Lancaster." The King asked him if he had not met his brother, whom he had sent there. "Yes, dear sire; and here is a letter he gave me [for you]." The King took the letter and looked at the seal, and saw that it was the seal of his brother; then he opened the letter and read it. All that it contained was this: "My very dear lord; I commend me to you. I hope you will believe the earl in everything that he shall say to you. For I found the Duke of Lancaster at my city of Chester, who has a great desire to have a good peace and agreement with you; and has kept me to attend upon him till he shall know your pleasure." When the King had read the letter, he said to the Earl of Northumberland: "Now then, Northumberland, what is your message?" "My dear sire," said the earl, "my lord of Lancaster has sent me to you to tell you what he most wishes for in this world is to have peace and a good understanding with you, and greatly repents, with all his heart, of the displeasure he hath caused you now and at other times, and asks nothing of you in this living world, save that you would consider him as your cousin and friend, and that you would please only to let him have his land, and that he may be Seneschal of England as his father and his predecessors have been, and that all other things of bygone time may be put in oblivion between you two: for which purpose he hath chosen umpires for yourself and for him; that is to say, your brother, the Bishop of Carlisle, the Earl of Salisbury, Maudelyn, and the Earl of Westmorland; and charges these five with [the arrangement of] the differences that are between you and him. Give me, if you please, an answer."

Then the King, with the Bishop of Carlisle, the Earl of Salisbury, Sir Stephen Scrop, Fereiby, and the Gascon squire, withdrew into the chapel of the castle; and the King said to them: "My lords, you have heard what the earl says; what think you of it?" To which they replied: "My lord, do you speak first." The King answered: "It seems to me that a good peace would be made between us two, if it be as the earl says; but, in truth, whatever agreement or peace he may make with me, if I can ever get him into my power, I will cause him to be foully put to death, just as he hath deserved." The Bishop of Carlisle said: "My lord, peace is desirable; but it appears to me that it will be well that you should make the Earl of Northumberland swear upon the Holy Gospels, and on the body of our Lord, that what he has said is true." The Earl of Salisbury and others said: "It is well spoken." The King then said: "Tell Northumberland to come in." Upon which came in the said earl, who can only be likened to Judas or to Guenelon,[101]for he falsely perjured himself on the body of our Lord in everything which he said. When he was in the presence, the King said to him as follows: "Northumberland, if you will assure us by your loyal oath, and swear upon the sacred body of our Lord, that what you have told us from our cousin of Lancaster is true, we will believe you, and will go and lodge at Flint; and there our good cousin of Lancaster can come and speak to us." Then said the earl, who was old and venerable: "Dear sire, I am quite ready to make what oath you wish." Upon which the King commanded that they should chant the mass, for it was still early; which he heard with much devotion as well as all his companions, for he was a true Catholic. When mass had been chanted, he caused the Earl of Northumberland to come forward, who placed his hand upon the body of our Lord which was upon the altar in the presence of the King and of the lords, and swore that all that he had said to the King from Henry of Lancaster was true; in which he perjured himself wickedly and falsely. After the oath had been taken, the King and those present went to dinner, and the King ordered that everyone should get ready to set out to go to Flint after dinner. When dinner was over, the King said to the earl: "Northumberland, for God's sake, be sure you consider well what you have sworn, for it will be to your damnation if it be untrue." The earl replied: "Dear sire, if you find it untrue, treat me as you ought to do a traitor." "Well, then," said the King, "we will go to Flint trusting in God and in our opinion of your honesty." "Dear sire," said the earl, "I will go forward to order your supper, and will tell to my lord the duke what I have done." The King replied: "Go": and the false earl said, on setting out: "Dear sire, make haste, for it is already two o'clock or thereabouts." The earl then left, with his seven attendants, as he had arrived, and rode to the mountain where he had left his men in ambush, who all made very merry, for he said to them: "We shall very soon have what we are looking for...."

The King, setting out, saw Northumberland's men in ambush in the valley, and, when Northumberland came back to meet him, questioned him as follows: "What people are those who are below in the valley?" The earl replied: "My lord, I do not know: I have seen none." "Look before you then," said the Earl of Salisbury; "there they are." "By St. John!" said the Bishop of Carlisle, "I believe they are your men, for I distinguish your banner." "Northumberland," said the King, "if I thought you wished to betray me, I would return to Conway!" "By St. George! my lord," replied the earl, "you shall not return for this month to come; for I shall conduct you to my lord, the Duke of Lancaster, as I have promised him." As he spoke Erpingham came up with all the people of the earl, his trumpets sounding aloud. The King and his companions then saw well enough that they had been betrayed; and said the King to the earl: "The God upon whom you have sworn reward you and all your accomplices at the day of judgment!" Then turning to his companions who were weeping, he said with a sigh: "Ah! my good and faithful friends, we are all betrayed and given without cause into the hands of our enemies; for God's sake have patience, and call to mind our Saviour, who was undeservedly sold and given into the hands of his enemies." "Dear sire," said the good Earl of Salisbury, "we will patiently submit to our lot with you since it is the will of God." So discoursing, with tears and lamentations, they came to Flint, where they lodged the King and his companions in the castle; and the earl and Erpingham set a strong guard over them: which done, the earl immediately took five horsemen, and rode to Chester to relate to the Duke of Lancaster how he had captured the King and conducted him to Flint.

FOOTNOTES:[101]A notorious traitor, torn to pieces at Aix-la-Chapelle by order of Charlemagne.

FOOTNOTES:

[101]A notorious traitor, torn to pieces at Aix-la-Chapelle by order of Charlemagne.

Source.—Froissart'sChronicle(Hafod Press, 1803), iv., pp. 668, 675, 688.

King Richard was released from his prison, and entered the hall that had been prepared for the occasion, royally dressed, the sceptre in his hand and the crown on his head, but without supporters on either side. He addressed the company as follows: "I have reigned King of England, Duke of Aquitaine, and Lord of Ireland, about twenty-two years, which royalty, lordship, sceptre and crown, I now freely and willingly resign to my cousin, Henry of Lancaster, and entreat of him, in the presence of you all, to accept this sceptre."

He then tendered the sceptre to the Duke of Lancaster, who took it and gave it to the Archbishop of Canterbury. King Richard next raised the crown with his two hands from his head, and, placing it before him, said: "Henry, fair cousin, and Duke of Lancaster, I present and give to you this crown, with which I was crowned King of England, and all the rights dependent on it...."

The inhabitants of Bourdeaux, Dax and Bayonne, were lost in astonishment when they heard that their lord, King Richard, had been arrested and was confined in the Tower of London, his principal counsellors executed, and Duke Henry of Lancaster crowned King, and would not at first believe that such melancholy events had happened in England; but as the reports were confirmed daily by fresh intelligence they were constrained to think them true. The gates of the three cities were closed, and no person whatever suffered to go out, from the sorrow they were in, more particularly those of Bourdeaux, for King Richard had been educated among them. They were sincerely attached to him, and he always received them kindly when they waited on him, inclining naturally to comply with every request they made him. On first hearing of his misfortune, they said: "Ah, Richard, gentle king! by God, you are the most honourable man in your realm. This mischief has been brewed for you by the Londoners, who never loved you, and their dislike was still increased by your alliance with France. This misfortune is too great for us to bear. Ah, King Richard! they have acknowledged you their Sovereign two and twenty years, and now they imprison you, and will put you to death; for, since they have crowned the Duke of Lancaster King, that consequence must follow...."

It was not long after this that a true report was current in London of the death of Richard of Bourdeaux. I could not learn the particulars of it, nor how it happened, the day I wrote these chronicles. Richard of Bourdeaux, when dead, was placed on a litter covered with black, and a canopy of the same. Four black horses were harnessed to it, and two varlets in mourning conducted the litter, followed by four knights dressed also in mourning. Thus they left the Tower of London, where he had died, and paraded the streets at a foot's pace until they came to Cheapside, which is the greatest thoroughfare in the city, and there they halted for upwards of two hours. More than twenty thousand persons, of both sexes, came to see the King, who lay in the litter, his head on a black cushion, and his face uncovered.

Some pitied him when they saw him in this state, but others not, saying he had for a long time deserved death. Now consider, ye kings, lords, dukes, prelates and earls, how very changeable the fortunes of this world are. This King Richard reigned twenty-two years in great prosperity, and with much splendour; for there never was a King of England who expended such sums, by more than one hundred thousand florins, as King Richard did in keeping up his state and his household establishments. I, John Froissart, canon and treasurer of Chimay, know it well, for I witnessed and examined it, during my residence with him, for a quarter of a year.

Source.—Vita R. Ricardi II.(ed. Hearne, 1729), 169.

King Richard was of common stature. His hair was yellow, his face white, round, and effeminate, sometimes flushed; he was abrupt and stammering in his speech, capricious in his ways, since spurning the counsels of the elder nobles, he adhered rather to that of the young. In his gifts he was prodigal, in his banquets and dress splendid beyond measure, timid and unsuccessful in war against foreign enemies, ill-tempered with his domestics, arrogant, rapacious, and too much given over to luxury. He was a great lover of late hours, so that sometimes till midnight, sometimes till morning, he would remain drinking and committing other unspeakable excesses. Grievously extorting tithes and taxes, and other subsidies, from his people, throughout his reign, scarcely a year passed in which he did not have a tenth, or a fifteenth, or their halves, from Parliament. And while these grants came into his treasury, under pretext of repelling national enemies, everything was foolishly wasted upon his extravagances.

However, there were two praiseworthy features to be found in him: the one, that he loved and promoted the Church of God and the persons of the clergy, especially the Black Monks; the other, that he endowed the Church of Westminster with rents to the value of 500 marks to pray for the salvation of his soul on his anniversary, although he is not buried there. May God have mercy on his soul. Amen.

Source.—William Langland'sRichard the Redeless(about 1362-1399).

PrologusII. 1-36.

And as I passid in my preire[102]. ther prestis[103]were at messe,In a blessid borugh[104]. that Bristow[105]is named,In a temple of the trinite . the toune even amyddis,[106]That Cristis chirche is cleped[107]. amonge the comune peple,Sodeynly ther sourdid[108]. selcouthe[109]thingis,A grett wondir to wyse men . as it well mygth,[110]And dowtes[111]ffor to deme[112]. ffor drede comynge after.So sore were the sawis[113]. of bothe two sidis,Of Richard that regned . so riche and so noble,That whyle he werrid[114]be west . on the wilde Yrisshe,Henrri was entrid[115]. on the est half,Whom all the londe loued . in lengthe and in brede,And ros with him rapely[116]. to rightyn his wronge,Ffor he shulde hem serue . of the same after.Thus tales me troblid . ffor they trewe were,And amarride[117]my minde rith moche[118]. and my wittis eke:[119]Ffor it passid[120]my parceit[121]. and my preifis[122]also,How so wondirffull werkis . wolde haue an ende.But in sothe whan they sembled . some dede repente,As knowyn is in cumpas . of Cristen londis,That rewthe[123]was, if reson . ne had reffourmedThe myssecheff and the mysserule . that men tho in endurid.[124]I had pete[125]of his passion . that prince was of Walis,And eke our crouned kynge . till Crist woll no lenger;And as a lord to his liage . though I lite[126]hade,All myn hoole herte[127]was his . while he in helthe regnid.And ffor I wuste not witterly[128]. what shulde ffall,Whedir God wolde geue[129]him grace . sone to amende,To be oure gioure[130]ageyn . or graunte it another,This made me to muse . many tyme and ofte,For to written him a writte[131]. to wissen[132]him better,And to meuve him of mysserewle . his mynde to reffresshe,Ffor to preise[133]the prynce . that paradise made,To fullfill him with ffeith . and ffortune aboue,And not to grucchen a grott[134]. ageine godis sonde[135]But mekely to suffre . what so him sente were.

Passus Primus.

Now, Richard the redeless[136]. reweth[137]on you-selfThat lawelesse leddyn youre lyf . and youre peple bothe;[138]Ffor thoru the wyles and wronge . and wast in your tyme,Ye were lyghtlich y-lyfte . ffrom that you leef thoughte,[139]And ffrom youre willffull werkis: youre will was channgid,And rafte was youre riott . and rest,[140]ffor youre daiezWeren wikkid thoru youre cursid counceill . youre karis[141]weren newed,And coueitise hath crasid[142]. youre croune ffor euere!

Radix omnium malorum cupiditas.[143]

Of alegeaunce now lerneth . a lesson other tweyne,Wher-by it standith . and stablithe moste—By drede, or by dyntis[144]. or domes untrewe,[145]Or by creaunce of coyne . ffor castes of gile,[146]By pillynge[147]of youre peple . youre prynces to plese;Or that youre wylle were wroughte . though wisdom it nolde;Or be tallage of youre townes . without ony werre,By rewthles routus[148]. that ryffled euere,By preysinge of polaxis[149]. that no pete hadde,Or be dette ffor thi dees . deme as thou ffyndist;Or be ledinge of lawe . with loue well ytemprid,[150]

Ffor legiaunce without loue . litill thinge availith.But graceles gostis[151]. gylours[152]of hem-self,That neuere had harnesse . ne hayle-schouris,[153]But walwed in her willis[154]. ffor-weyned[155]in here youthe,They sawe no manere sizth . saff solas and ese,[156]And cowde no mysse amende . whan mysscheff was vp,But sorwed ffor her lustus . of lordschipe they hadde,[157]And neuere ffor her trespas[158]. oo tere wolde they lete![159]

PassusII.[160]

But moche now me merueilith[161]. and well may I in sothe,Of youre large leuerey[162]. to leodis[163]aboute,That ye so goodliche gaf[164]. but if gile letted,[165]As hertis y-heedyd[166]. and hornyd of kynde,[167]So ryff[168]as they ronne . youre rewme[169]thoru-outeThat non at youre nede[170]. youre name wolde nempne,[171]In ffersnesse ne in ffoltheed,[172]. but ffaste ffle away-ward,And some stode astonyed[173]. and stared ffor drede,Ffor eye of the egle[174]. that oure helpe broughte.

Now liste[175]me to lerne . ho[176]me lere[177]coude,What kynnes conceyll[178]. that the kyng had,Or meued him most . to merke his liegis,[179]Or serue hem with signes[180]. that swarmed so thikke,Thoru-oute his lond . in lengthe and in brede,That ho so had hobblid . thoru holtes and tounes,Or y-passid the patthis . ther the prynce dwellyd,Of hertis or hyndis . on hassellis brestis,Or some lordis leveré . that the lawe stried,He should have ymette . mo than ynowe,[181]Ffor they accombrede[182]the contré . and many curse seruid,[183]And carped[184]to the Comounes . with the kyngys mouthe,Or with the lordis . ther they belefte[185]wereThat no renke[186]shulde rise . reson to schewe;They plucked the plomayle[187]. ffrom the pore skynnes,And schewed her signes[188]. ffor men shulde drede,To axe ony mendis . ffor her mys-dedis.[189]

So trouthe to telle . as toune-men said,Ffor on that ye merkyd[190]. ye myssed ten schoreOf homeliche hertis[191]. that the harme hente.Thane was it ffoly . in ffeith, as me thynkethTo sette siluer in signes . that of nought seruedI not what you eylid[192]. but if it ese[193]were;Ffor frist at youre anoyntynge . alle were youre owene,Both hertis and hyndis . and helde of non other;No lede[194]of youre lond . but as a liege aughte,[195]Tyl ye, of youre dulnesse . deseuerance made,Thoru youre side[196]signes . that shente all the browet,And cast adoun the crokk . the colys amyd.[197]

FOOTNOTES:[102]Prayer.[103]Priests.[104]Borough.[105]Bristol.[106]In the middle of.[107]Named.[108]Arose (Lat.surgere).[109]Wonderful.[110]Might.[111]Doubts.[112]Think.[113]Sayings.[114]Made war in.[115]Entered.[116]Rapidly.[117]Disturbed.[118]Very much.[119]Also.[120]Surpassed.[121]Power of perception.[122]Experience.[123]Pity.[124]Continued in.[125]Pity.[126]Little.[127]My whole heart.[128]Because I did not know for certain.[129]Give.[130]Guide.[131]A writing.[132]To show.[133]More probably "preie" = pray.[134]Not to grumble a groat—namely, not to grumble at all.[135]God's visitation.[136]Devoid of counsel (cf.Ethelred theUnready).[137]Have pity.[138]That lawlessledyour life andruledyour people.[139]You were lightly lifted from that you thought dear.[140]Your indulgence and rest were taken away.[141]Cares.[142]Covetousness has cracked.[143]Cupidity is the root of all evils.[144]Blows.[145]Unjust judgments.[146]By borrowing of coin for fraudulent contrivances.[147]Pillaging.[148]Ruthless gangs.[149]Appraising by means of the King's officers.Polaxis(= pole-axes) here denote the men who used them—i.e., the King's officers.[150]The writer asks the King how is allegiance best promoted among subjects—by dread, blows, unjust judgments, bad coinage, pillage of the people, self-will of the King, taxes imposed in time of peace and exacted by pitiless plunderers, and "by debts thou contractest in dice-playing, judge as thou findest," or by guidance of the law, well tempered with love?[151]Spirits. An allusion to the King's favourites—De Vere, De la Pole, etc.[152]Deceivers.[153]That never wore harness, nor felt showers of hail.[154]Wallowed in their wills.[155]Pampered.[156]They saw no kind of sight, save amusement and ease.[157]But sorrowed for their pleasures of lordship once enjoyed.[158]Their trespasses.[159]One tear would they let fall.[160]The author is here inveighing against the King's servants, particularly against their wearing badges.[161]I marvel.[162]Livery.[163]Men.[164]Liberally gave.[165]Unless fraud hindered.[166]Antlered harts. The white hart was the favourite badge of Richard II.[167]Horned by nature.[168]Rife.[169]Realm.[170]In the time of your need.[171]Name. Whoever wore a lord's livery was bound in honour to espouse the cause of the donor in any quarrel.[172]Neither in fierceness nor in folly.[173]Astonished.[174]For awe of the eagle. The eagle represents Henry, Duke of Lancaster, afterwards Henry IV.[175]It would please.[176]Whoever.[177]Teach.[178]What sort of advice.[179]To mark his servants.[180]Or serve them with signs—e.g., badges.[181]Whoso had travelled through woods and towns, or passed the roads where the Prince dwelt, would see more than enough of hearts and hinds on retainers' breasts, or else the livery of some lord who destroyed the law.[182]Cumbered.[183]Deserved.[184]Talked.[185]Left.[186]Man.[187]Plumage.[188]Their badges.[189]In order that men should be afraid to ask any amendment against their misdeeds.[190]I.e., gave a badge to.[191]Homely hearts. There is a play on the words "heart" and "hart": "For one that you marked with a hart's badge you lost ten score of homely hearts."[192]Ailed.[193]Luxuriousness.[194]Man.[195]Ought.[196]Wide.[197]That spilt all the broth and upset the pot among the coals.

FOOTNOTES:

[102]Prayer.

[103]Priests.

[104]Borough.

[105]Bristol.

[106]In the middle of.

[107]Named.

[108]Arose (Lat.surgere).

[109]Wonderful.

[110]Might.

[111]Doubts.

[112]Think.

[113]Sayings.

[114]Made war in.

[115]Entered.

[116]Rapidly.

[117]Disturbed.

[118]Very much.

[119]Also.

[120]Surpassed.

[121]Power of perception.

[122]Experience.

[123]Pity.

[124]Continued in.

[125]Pity.

[126]Little.

[127]My whole heart.

[128]Because I did not know for certain.

[129]Give.

[130]Guide.

[131]A writing.

[132]To show.

[133]More probably "preie" = pray.

[134]Not to grumble a groat—namely, not to grumble at all.

[135]God's visitation.

[136]Devoid of counsel (cf.Ethelred theUnready).

[137]Have pity.

[138]That lawlessledyour life andruledyour people.

[139]You were lightly lifted from that you thought dear.

[140]Your indulgence and rest were taken away.

[141]Cares.

[142]Covetousness has cracked.

[143]Cupidity is the root of all evils.

[144]Blows.

[145]Unjust judgments.

[146]By borrowing of coin for fraudulent contrivances.

[147]Pillaging.

[148]Ruthless gangs.

[149]Appraising by means of the King's officers.Polaxis(= pole-axes) here denote the men who used them—i.e., the King's officers.

[150]The writer asks the King how is allegiance best promoted among subjects—by dread, blows, unjust judgments, bad coinage, pillage of the people, self-will of the King, taxes imposed in time of peace and exacted by pitiless plunderers, and "by debts thou contractest in dice-playing, judge as thou findest," or by guidance of the law, well tempered with love?

[151]Spirits. An allusion to the King's favourites—De Vere, De la Pole, etc.

[152]Deceivers.

[153]That never wore harness, nor felt showers of hail.

[154]Wallowed in their wills.

[155]Pampered.

[156]They saw no kind of sight, save amusement and ease.

[157]But sorrowed for their pleasures of lordship once enjoyed.

[158]Their trespasses.

[159]One tear would they let fall.

[160]The author is here inveighing against the King's servants, particularly against their wearing badges.

[161]I marvel.

[162]Livery.

[163]Men.

[164]Liberally gave.

[165]Unless fraud hindered.

[166]Antlered harts. The white hart was the favourite badge of Richard II.

[167]Horned by nature.

[168]Rife.

[169]Realm.

[170]In the time of your need.

[171]Name. Whoever wore a lord's livery was bound in honour to espouse the cause of the donor in any quarrel.

[172]Neither in fierceness nor in folly.

[173]Astonished.

[174]For awe of the eagle. The eagle represents Henry, Duke of Lancaster, afterwards Henry IV.

[175]It would please.

[176]Whoever.

[177]Teach.

[178]What sort of advice.

[179]To mark his servants.

[180]Or serve them with signs—e.g., badges.

[181]Whoso had travelled through woods and towns, or passed the roads where the Prince dwelt, would see more than enough of hearts and hinds on retainers' breasts, or else the livery of some lord who destroyed the law.

[182]Cumbered.

[183]Deserved.

[184]Talked.

[185]Left.

[186]Man.

[187]Plumage.

[188]Their badges.

[189]In order that men should be afraid to ask any amendment against their misdeeds.

[190]I.e., gave a badge to.

[191]Homely hearts. There is a play on the words "heart" and "hart": "For one that you marked with a hart's badge you lost ten score of homely hearts."

[192]Ailed.

[193]Luxuriousness.

[194]Man.

[195]Ought.

[196]Wide.

[197]That spilt all the broth and upset the pot among the coals.

Source.—Archæologia(London, 1824), xx. 237-241.

[Translation of a French Metrical History of the Deposition of Richard II.]

The English were disposed to fulfil her restoration to her country, together with all the jewels which she had, when, after her marriage, she quitted France. She then passed through France to Paris, where her coming caused many a tear and smile.[198]Let us now beseech God, who humbly suffered his naked body to be suspended upon the Cross, for the redemption and restoration of sinners from the false foes of hell, that he will speedily avenge the great evils and ingratitude, the outrage and injustice, which the wicked English have committed against their King and Queen. For I protest to you of a truth, that I greatly desire to behold this, on account of the wickedness which I have seen among them. And if every one knew their disposition and how they hate the French I firmly believe that before three months were passed we should see many a vessel filled with men and stores to make war upon them. For anyone may plainly see that they are a very wicked people and negligent to do well. And if I have spoken too freely of them in any way which may displease, I humbly and heartily beg pardon. For I solemnly declare that, according to my ability, I have uttered no evil or slander of them whereof they have not been guilty. Because I beheld their actions for seven whole months, and rode with them in many countries, and parts of Ireland and England. The good Earl of Salisbury also, when he was taken with King Richard, was pleased most earnestly to request, and humbly entreat me, that I would publish the whole of their bad behaviour and disloyal treason. And, certes, I promised it him with free will and loyal heart. For which cause, I have taken the trouble to fulfil the promise that I made him, in the great sorrow and peril in the which I left him. Besides, I am sure that the truth of the taking of the King, and how he was falsely drawn out of his strong and fair castles in Wales, by treaty and parley with the Earl of Northumberland, could have been little known. So I sincerely beseech all those, who shall read to the end of this treatise, which I have made concerning the English and their affairs, that if I have committed any fault in rhyme or in prose, or in elegance of rhyme, they would have me excused because I am not skilled therein. Amen.

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