“Alle tho that ben enemys to the kyng,
I schal them clothe with confucione;
Make hym myghti be vertuos levyng,
His mortall fou to oppressen and bere a downe,
And hym to encresene as Cristes champione;
Alle myschevys from hym to abrigge,
With the grace of God, at the entryng of this[161] brigge.”
Too antilopis stondyng on either syde,
With the armes of Ingelond and of Fraunce,
In token that God schall for hym provide,
As he hath title be juste eneritaunce,
To regne in pees, plente, and alle plesaunce;
Cesyng of werre, that men myghte ryden and[162] gone,
As trewe liegis, there hertys mad bothe oone.
Forthermore, so as the kyng gan ryde,
Middes of the brigge there was a toure on lofte;
The lord of lordes beynge ay his gyde,
As he hath be and yit wil be ful ofte.
The tour araied with velwetty softe,
Clothys of gold, silk, and tapicerie,
As apperteynyth to his regalye.
And at his comyng, of excellent beaute,
Benygne[163] of port, most womanly of chere,
There issued out, empresses thre;
There here displaied, as Phebus in his[164] spere,
With crownettys of gold and stones clere;
At whos out comyng thei gaf swyche a light,
That the beholders were stonyed in there sight.
The first of them was callyd[165] Nature,
As sche that hath undyr here demayne,
Man, beest, and foul, and every creature,
Withinne the bondys of here goldyn cheyne;[166]
Eke hevene, and erthe, and every creature,[167]
Grace.This empresse of custum doth enbrace:
And next here com here suster callyd Grace.
Passyng famous, and of gret reverence,
Most desyryd in alle regions;
For where that evere shewith here presence,
She bryngeth gladnes to citees and to townys.
Of alle welle fare she halt[168] the possessionys,
For y dar sey, prosperite in no place,
No while abidith, but if there be grace.
In tokene that Grace shal[169] longe continue,
Fortune.Unto the kyng, she shewyd here ful benygne;
And next here com the empresse Fortune,
To hym aperyng with many a noble signe,
And riall tokenys, to shew that he was digne,
Of God disposyd as lust[170] ordeygne,
Upon his hed to were crownes tweyne.
These thre ladies, al of on entent,
Thre goostly gyftes, hevynly, and devyne,
Unto the kyng anon they dyd present;
And to his hignesse they dyd anon enclyne,
And what they weren pleynly to determyne;
Grace gaf hym first at his comynge,
Two riche gyftes, sciens and cunnynge.
Nature gaf hym eke strengthe, and fayrnesse,
For to be lovyd and dred of every wight;
Fortune gaf hym eke prosperite, and richesse;
With this scripture aperyng in ther sight,
To hym applied of verey due right,
Intende prospere procede et regna.“First undirstonde and wilfully procede,
And longe to regne,” the scripture seide in dede.
This is to mene, who so undirstondith aright,
Thow shalt be fortune have long prosperite;
And be nature thow shalt have strengthe, and myght,
Forth to procede in long felicite;
And grace also hath grauntyd unto the,
Vertuously longe in thi roiall citee,
With septre and crowne to regne in equyte.
On the right hand of these Empresses,
Stode thir[171] maydenys verey celestialle;
Like Phebus bemys shone there golden tresses,
Upon there hedes ech havyng a crownalle,
Of port and chere semyng immortalle:
In sight transsendyng alle erthely creatures,
So angelik they weren of there figures.
Al clad in white, in tokene of clennesse,
Liche pure virgynes as in there ententys,
Schewynge outward an hevenly fresshe brightnesse;
Stremyd with sonnys weren alle there garmentys,
Aforne provyded for pure innocentys:
Most colombyne of chere and of lokyng,
Meekly roos up at the comyng of the kyng.
They had on bawdrikes al on saphire hewe,
Goynge outward gan the kyng salue,
Hym presentyng with ther gyftes newe,
Lik as thei[172] thought it was to them due;
Whiche gostly giftes, here in ordre suwe,
Down descendyng as silver dewe from hevene,
Al grace includyd[173] withinne the giftes sewene.
These riall giftes ben of vertu most
Goostly corages, most soveraygnely delite,
The[174] giftes callyd of the Holy Goost,
Outward figuryd be seven dowys white;
Seyenge[175] to hym, lik as clerkes write,
“God the fulfille with intelligence
And with a spirit of goostly sapience
God sende also to thi moost availe,
The to preserve from alle hevynesse;
A spirit of strenghthe, and of good counsaile,
Of cunnyng, drede, pite, and of lownesse:”
Thus thise ladies gan there gyftes dresse,
Graciously at there out comyng,
Be influence light upon the kyng.
These Empresses hadde on there left syde,
Othere vij virgines, pure and clene,
Be attendaunce continually to abyde,
Al clad in whit, smete ful of sterrers shene;
And to declare what they wolde mene,
Unto the kyng with fulle gret reverence,
These weren there gyftes shortly in sentence;
God the endue with a crowne of glorie;
And with a[178] septre of clennesse and pite;
And with a sheld of right,[179] and victorie;
And with a mantel of prudence clad thow be;
A sheld of feith for to defende the;
An helm of helthe wrought to thin encres;
Girt with a girdell of love and perfight pees.
These vij virgynes of sight most hevenly,
With herte, body, and handys reioysyng,
And of there[180] cheres aperid murely,
For the kynges gracious hom comyng;
And for gladnesse they began to synge,
Most angelik with hevenly armonye,
This same roundelle which y shal now specifie.
Soverayne lord, Wolcome to youre Citee;
Wolcome oure joye, and oure hertys plesaunce;
Wolcome oure gladnes, Wolcome oure suffisaunce;
Wolcome, Wolcome, right Wolcome, mote ye be;
Syngyng to fore thi riall mageste,
We seye of herte, withoughten variaunce,
Soverayn lord, Wolcome, Wolcome, oure[181] joye;
Meir, Citezeins, and al the Comonte,
At youre hom comyng newe out of Fraunce,
Be grace relevyd of al ther olde grevaunce,
Syng this day with gret solempnyte.
Thus resceyvyd, an esy paas rydyng,
The kyng is entred into this Citee;
And in Cornhull anon at his comynge,
To do plesaunce to his mageste,
A tabernacle surmontyng of beaute,
There was ordeyned, be full fresshe entaille,
Richely arraied with rialle apparaille;
This tabernacle of moost magnyfycence,
Was of this byldyng verrey imperiall,
Mad for the lady callyd dame Sapience.
To for whos face moost statly and rialle,
Were the vij sciences callyd liberalle;
Rounde aboughte as makyd is memorie,
Which never departyd from his[182] consistorie,
Septem sciencie liberales.Frist ther was Gramer, as y reherce can,
Chef founder[183] and rote of al connyng,
Whiche hadde afore here old Precian;
And Logyk hadde afore here ek[184] stondyng,
Aristotill so clerkly disputyng;
And Retoryk hadde eke in her presence,
Tullius, callyd myrrour of eloquence;
And Musyk hadde royde of all discorde,
Boice, here clerk, with hevenly armonye,
And instrumentis al of on acorde;
For to practyse with sugryd melodye,
He and his clerkes[185] there wittes dyd applye,
With touche of strengys, on orgons we[186] playeng,
There craft to shewe at the[187] comynge of oure kyng;
And Arsmetrik, be castynge of nombrarie,
Ches Pictogoras for here partye,
Callyd chief clerk to governe here liberarie.
Euclude tok mesures be craft of gemetrie,
And al ther heighest[188] stod Astronomye;
Albunisar last with here of vije,
With instrumentis that raught up into hevene;
The chief princesse callyd dame Sapience,
Hadde to fore here wrete[189] this scripture,
Kynges, quod she, moost of excellence,
Be me thei regne, and moost in joye endure,
For thorugh myn helpe, and my besy cure,
To encrese ther glorie and high renone,
They shull of wisdome have ful possession.
And in the front of this tabernacle,
Sapiens, a scripture gan devyse,
Able to be reed withoughten a spectacle,
To yonge kynges seying in this wyse,
Undirstondith and lernyth of the wyse,
On right remembryng the highe lord to queme,
Sith ye be juges other folk to deme;
Forthermore the matir doth devyse.
The kyng procedyng forth upon his way,
Com to the Condyte mad in sercle wyse;
Whom to resceyve, ther was mad no delay,
And myddys above in ful riche aray,
There sat a child of beute procellyng,
Middys of a[190] trone raid like a kyng,
Domina misericord’ a dextris et domina veritat’ a sinistris
et cum clemencia roborabit’ thronus eius.
Misericordia et Veritas custodiunt Regem.Whom to governe, there were assygned tweyne,
A lady, Mercy, sat on his right syde;
On his lefte honde yf y shall nought feyne,
The lady Trouthe, his domys to provyde;
The lady Clemence on loft dyd a byde,
Of God ordeyned in the same place,
The kynges throne strongly to enbrace;
For be the sentence of prudent Salamon,
Mercy and Right kepen every kyng,
And Clemence kepit be reson,
His myghti throne from myschief and fallyng,
And makith it strong with longe abydyng;
For y dar say these ladies thre,
A kyng preserve in long felicite.[191]
Iudiciu’ et Iusticiam.Thanne stod afore[192] also[193] the sayd kyng,
Two juges, with ful highe noblesse;
Viijte seriauntes ich on representyng;
For comon profith doom and right wisnesse:
Honor Regis iudiciu’ diligt. Deus iudiciu’ tuum Regi da,
et justiciam tuam filio Regis.Withe this scripture, whiche shalle expresse,[194]
Honour of kyng is in every mannys sight,[195]
Of comone custom lovyth equyte and right,
Kyng Davyd wrot, the sawter berith witnes,
Lord God, quod he, thi dome yif us[196] to the kyng,
And yif thi trouthe, and thi right wysnes,
To the kynges sone here in his levynge,
To us declaryng, as be ther wrightyng,
That kynges, prynces, sholde aboughte hym drawe,
Folk that ben trewe, and wel expert in lawe.
The kyng forthe rydyng entred Chepe anone,
A lusty place, a place of alle delitis,
Com to the Condyte, wher as cristalle ston,
The water ran, like welles of Paradys:
The holsome licour, ful riche and of gret pris,
Lik to the water of Archedeclyne,
Thetis est dea aquar’.Whiche be meracle were turnyd to[197] wyn:
Thetes, which that is of waters chief goddesse,
Bachus est deus vini.Hadde of the wellys power non nor myght,
For Bachus shewyd ther his fulsomnesse,
Of holsome wynes, to every maner wight:
For wyn of nature makith hertys light,
Wherfore Bachus, atte reverence of the kyng,
Shedde out his plente at his hom comyng.
Wyn is a lycour of[198] recreacione,
That day presentyd in tokne of[199] gladnes,
Into the kyngges famous highe renone,
From[200] to exile al maner hevynes,
For with his comyng, the dede berith witnes,
Out of this[201] lond he put away al trowble,
And made of newe oure joyes to be dowble.
Eke at thise welles, there were virgines thre,
Whiche drew[202] up[203] wynes of joye and of plesance;
Mercy, and Grace, there ther sustre eke Pite,
Mercy mynystred wynes of attemperaunce;
Grace shed here licour of good governaunce;
And Pite preferryd with ful good foysone,
Wynes of comfort and consolacione;
The wyn of Mercy stanchith of[204] nature,
The gredy thristes of cruelle hastynes;
Grace with here licour cristallyn and pure,
Differith vengeaunce of furious wodnes,
And Pite blemsyght the swerd of rightwysnes,
Covenable welles, most holsome of savour,
For to be tasted of every governour.
O how thise wellys who so tok good hede,
With there licours moost homsome to ataine,
Afore devysyd notably in dede,
For to accorde with the Mairis name,[205]
Whiche be report of his worthy fame,
That day was besy in all his governaunce,
Unto the kyng for to done plesaunce.
There were ek trees, with levys fresshe of hewe,
Al tyme of the yer ful of frutes lade,
Of colour hevenly and evere eliche newe.
Orenges, almondys, and the pomegarnade,
Lymons, dates, there colours fresh and glade,
Pypyns, quynces, blaundrellys to disport,
And the pom cedre, corageus to recomfort:
Eke othere frutes, whiche that more comown be,
Quenyngges, peches, costardes, and wardons,
And othere manye ful faire and freshe to se.
The pome water, and the gentil ricardouns,
And agaynes hertes for mutegacions,[206]
Damasyns, whiche with there tast delite,
Ful gret plente bothe of blak and white.
And besydes this gracious paradis,
Al ioghe[207] and gladnesse for to multiplie,
Two olde men, ful circumspect and wys,
Ther did apere, like folkys faire:[208]
The ton was Ennok, that[209] other Elye,
The kyng presentyng ther gyftes ful notable;
Nichil proficiat inimicus in eo Et filius iniquitatis non
apponat nocere ei.That God conferme his state ay to be stable,
The firste seide, withe benynge chere,
Gretly desyryng his prosperite,
That non enemy have on hym powere,
Nor no[210] child be fals inequyte,
Perturble nevere his felicite;
Thus old Ennok, the processe gan welle telle,
And preid for the kyng as he rood be the welle.
After Elias with his lokkes hore,
Dominus conservet eum vivificet eum et beatum faciet eum
&c.Wel devoutly seyde,[211] lokyng on the kyng,
God conserve the and kepe the evermore,
And make hym blessyd in erthe here levyng,
And preserve hym in al manere thyng,
And special among kynges alle,
In enemyes handes that he nevere falle.
Haurietis aquas in gaudio de fontibus salvatoris.And at the[212] frontour of these welles clere,
Ther was a scripture comendyng ther[213] licour;
Ye shall drawe waters with good chere,
Out of wellys of oure savyour,
Whiche han vertu to curyne al langour,
Be influence of ther grete swetnesse,
Hertys avoidyng of al ther hevynesse.
Than from thise welles of fulsome abundaunce;
With ther licours as any cristalle clere,
The kyng rood forthe with sobre continaunce,
Toward a castell, beldyd[214] of jasper grene,
Upon whos toures the sonne shone ful[215] shene;
Ther clerly shewyd be notable remembraunce,
The[216] kynges title of Ingelond and of Fraunce.
To grene trees ther grew upright,
From seynt Edward and from seynt Lowys,
The roote etake,[217] palpable to the sight,
Conveyd be[218] kynges of gret prys,
Some bare lebardes, some bar flour de lys;
In nowthir armes founde was ther no lak,
Whiche the sixte Henry may now bere on his bak;
The pedegre be iuste successione,
As trewe cronycles trewly determyne,
Unto the kyng is now descendyd down,
From eyther party, right as any lyne:
Upon whos hed now freshly done shyne,
Two riche crownes, moost soverayne of plesaunce,
To brynge in pees betwen Ingelond and Fraunce.
Upon this castelle, on the tother syde,
Ther was a tree, whiche sprang out of Jesse,
Ordeyned of God ful longe to abyde,
Davyd first[219] crownyd[220] for his humylyte,
The braunches conveide, as men myghte se,
Lynyally, and[221] the genelogye,
To Crist J’hu, that was borne of Marie;
And whi the Jesse was sett on that partye,
This was the cause in especialle;
For next to Powlys y dar well specyfie,
Is the party moost chief and principalle,
Callyd of Londone, the chirche cathedralle,
Whiche oughte of resone the devys for[222] to excuse,
To alle tho that wolde agen it frowne or muse.
And fro that castelle the kyng forth gan hym dresse,
Toward Poules chief chirche of this citee;
And at the[223] Conduyt he[224] light and a liknesse,
Indyvysyble mad of the Trinite,
A throne compassyd of his riall se;
Aboughte whiche shortly to conclude,
Of hevenly angelles was[225] a gret multitude,
To whom was gevyn a precept in scripture,
Wreten in the front of the highe stage,
That thei shuld do there besy cure,
To kepe the kyng sure[226] from al damage,
In his lyf here, duryng alle his age,
His highe renone to shyne,[227] and sprede[228] ferre,
Longitudinem dierum replebo eum et ostendam illi salutare
meum.Of hise too remes to sese the mortall werre.
And last was wreten in the frontours,
I shall fulfille hym with yoye and abundaunce
And with lengthe of many[229] holsom yers;
And y shalle shewe hym my helthe[230] with al plesaunce,
And of his lieges feithfull obeisaunce,
Multiplie and encrese his lyne,
And make his noblesse thorugh out[231] the world to shyne;
Love of his peple, favour of alle strangers,
In both hise remes, pees, reste, and unyte,
Be influence of the nyne spers;
Longe to contynue in his riall se,
Grace to cherisshe the Mair and the Citee,
Longe in his mynde to be conceyved,
With how good will[232] that day he was resceyvyd.
Comynge to Poules, there he light a down,
Entred the chirche ful demure of chere,
And there to mete hym with processione,
Was the archebisshope and the chaunceler,
Lincolne, and Bathe, of hol hert and entier,
Salesbury, Norwych and Ely,
In pontificall arayed richely;
There was the bysshope of Rouchestre also,
The deen of Poules, the chanons everyich on,
Of dute as they oughte to do,
On processione with the kyng to gone,
And though y can nought reherce them on be one,
Yit dar y seye in[233] there entent,
To done ther dever ful trewly they ment;
Lyk ther estates forthe thei gan precede,
With observaunces longyng for a kyng,
Solempnely gan hym conreye in dede,
Up in to the chirche, with ful devout syngyng;
And whanne he had mad his offryng,
The Mair, the Citezeins, abood, and lefte hym nought,
Unto Westmynster til thei hadde hym brought;
Where, all the covent in copis richely,
Mette with hym of custome as they ought;
The abbot after moost solempnely,
Among the relikes, the scripture[234] out he[235] sought,
Of seynt Edward, and to the kyng he brought;
Though it were longe, large, and of gret weighte,
Yit on his shuldres the kyng bar it on heighte,
In the mynstre, whiles alle the bellys ronge,
Til that[236] he come to the heighe auter;
And ful devoutly Te Deum there was songe.
And all[237] the peple, glad of look and cher,
Thankynge[238] God with alle there hertys entier,
To se there kyng with too crownes shyne,
Ex duabus arboribus viz s’c’i Edwardi et s’c’i Lodewyci.From too trees treuly fet the lyne:
And aftyr this,[239] it ys verrey sothe,
Unto his palys of kyngly apparaile,
With his lordes the kyng anon forth goth,
To take his reste after his travaile;
And thanne of wysdom, whiche[240] may so moche availe,
The Meir, the Citezeins, which al this[241] thing ded se,
Be hom repaired in to there Citee.
The Shirreves, the Aldermen in fere,
The Satyrday alther next suyng,
There Mair presentyd with all there hertes entere,
Goodly to be resceyved of the kyng;
And at Westmenster confermed there[242] a thyng,
The Mair and they with ful hol entent,
Unto the kyng a gyfte gan[243] present;
The whiche gifte, thei goodly han disposyd,
Tok an hamper of gold that shene shone;
A thousand pound of gold ther inne closyd:[244]
And there with alle to the kyng they gone,
And fill on knees to fore hym everych on,
Ful humbly the trouthe to devyse,
And to the Kyng the Mair seide in this wyse;
Moost cristen prince and noble kyng, the goode folke of youre moost notable Citee of London, other wyse callid[245] youre Chambre, besechyn in there moost lowly wyse they mow be recomaundyd to youre highnesse, and that it can like unto youre noble grace to resceyve this litel gyfte gevyne with as good a wille, trouthe,[246] and lounesse, as ever any gift was gevyn to any erthely prynce.
Be glad, O Londone, be glad ant make gret joye,
Citee of Citees, of noblesse procellyng;
In thi begynnyng called Newe Troye,
For worthynesse thank God of all thing,
Whiche hast this day resceyved so the[247] kyng,
With many a signe and many an observaunce,
To encrese thi name be newe remembraunce.
Swyche joye was[248] in the consistorie,
Mad for the tryumple with al the surpluage,
Whan Cesar Julius com hom with his victorie,
Ne for the conquest of Stepyon[249] in Cartage,
As Londone made in every maner age,
Out of Fraunce at his[250] hom comyng,
In to this Citee of there noble kyng.
Of vij thinges y preyse this Citee;
Of trewe menyng, and feithfull obeisaunce,[251]
Of rightwysnesse, trouthe, and equyte,
Of stabilnesse, ay kept in alegiaunce,
And for of vertu, thou hast suche suffisaunce
In this land here, and othere londes alle,
The kynges Chaumbre, of custom men the calle.
L’ENVOYE.
O noble Meir, be it into[252] youre plesaunce,
And unto[253] alle that duellithe in this Citee,
On my rudenes and on myn ignoraunce,
Of grace and mercy for to have pite,
My symple makyng for to take at gre;
Considere this that in the[254] moost lowly wyse,
My wille were good for to do[255] servyse.
Here endith the makyng of the Comynge of the Kyng out of Fraunce to Londone, Be the monk of Bery.—Deo gracias.[256]
P. 139. Ao 36 Hen. VI. “In this yere was a grete watch in London, and al the gates kepte every nyght, and ij aldermen watchyng: and withynne a while after the kyng and lordes were accorded, and went a procession in Paulis.”
The temporary reconciliation between the adherents of the King and of the Duke of York, so briefly alluded to in the text, and which is best illustrated by the following extract from a contemporary letter, served, like every other event of his times, for the exercise of Lydgate’s pen; but his description of it in the following ballad is infinitely more valuable from its historical accuracy, than its poetical merit. Of this article there are two copies extant; one in the Cottonian MS. Nero A. vi. and the other in the Cottonian MS. Vespasianus B. xvi.: the latter copy has been printed, though very erroneously, and with the orthography modernized, by Mr. Sharon Turner; but the former has not been before noticed. As they differ in some places from each other, and are very short, it has been thought advisable that both transcripts should be inserted.
[Paston Letters, vol. i. p. 154.]
“Lyke it your maistership to wyte, that as for tidings, the Counsell is, the fornone, at the blake Frires, for the ease of resortyng of the Lordes that ar withinne the toun; and at afternon at the white Frirers in Fletstrete, for the Lordis with owte the town; and all things shall come to a good conclusion with God is grace; for the Kyng shall come hidre this weke, and the Quene also, as some men sayn, and my Lord Buk and Stafford with hire, and muche puple. My Lord of Caunterbury takith grete peyne up on hym daily, and will write unto yow the certeynte of suche tidings as falle; and shuld have doon or this tyme, saf for that he wolde knowe an ende of the mattre.”
[Cottonian MS. Nero A. vi.]
Whan Charyte ys chosen with stats to stonde,
Stedfast and styll, with oute distaunce,
Then wreth may be exilid out of thys londe,
And God oure gide to have governaunce;
Wysdom and welthe with all plesaunce,
May ryghtfulle reigne, and prosperite,
For love hath underleyde wrethfull vengeaunce;
Reioyse Enlond the lords acordid bee.
Reioyse, and thonke God, and sorw no more,
For now shal encrese thi consolacone;
Oure enemes quake for drede ful sore,
That pees ys made that was divisione,
Whiche ys to them grete confusione,
And to us joy and felicite;
God hold them longe in every seasone,
That Englond may reioyce, the concord and unite.
Now ys sorw with shame fled yn to Fraunce,
As a felon that hath forsworne thys lond;
Love hath put owte malicius governaunce,
In every place both fee and bonde;
In Yorke, in Somersett, as y undyrstonde,
In Warwikke also ys love and charite,
In Salisbury eke, and yn Northumberlond,
That every man may reioyce the concord and unite.
Egremond,[257] and Clyfford,[258] and other forseyd,
Ben sett yn the same opynyone;
In every quartre love is thus leide,
Grace and wisdome hath the dominacione;
Awoke welth, and welk in thys regione,
Rewnde abowte in towne and cite,
And thonke them that brought it to thys conclusion;
Reioyse Englond the concord and unite.
At Poules in London, with grete renowne,
On oure Lady day the pes was wrought;
The kyng, the quene, with lords many one,
To worshyppe that virgine as they oght,
Went a prosession, and sparyd right noght,
In sight of alle the comonialte,
In tokyn that love was in hert and thoght;
Reioice Englond the concord and unite.
There was by twene them lovely countenaunce,
Whyche was grete yoy to alle that there were,
That long tyme hadd ben in variaunce,
As frynds for ever they went yn fere,
They went togedre, and made good chere;
O Fraunce and Bretayne, repent shall ye,
For the bergeyne shalle ye bye fulle dere;
Reioice Englond the concord and unite.
Our sovereyn lord the kyng, God kepe alway,
The quene and the bisshope of Canterbury,[259]
And other that have labored to thys love day,
God preserve them we pray hertly;
And Londone for they fulle diligently,
Kept the pees in trobull and in adversite;
To brynge yn rest they labored ful treuly;
Reioice Englond the peas and unite.
Off thre things, y preys thys worshypfull Citee:
The ferst, of trewe feythe that they owe to the kyng;
The secounde, of love of eache comonialte;
The thyrde, of good rule evermore kepyng;
The whyche God mayntene ever long durynge,
And save the Maire and all the hole Citee,
And that ys amys brynge to amendyng,
That Englond may reioice the pees and unite.
[From the Cottonian MS. Vespasianus B. xvi.]
Whan Charite is chosen with states to stonde,
Stedfas and stille without distaunce,
Than wrathe may be exiled out of this londe,
And God oure gide to have the governaunce.
Wisdom and wellthe with alle plesaunce,
May rightful regne and prosperite,
For love hath underlaide wrathful veniaunce;
Reioise Anglond oure lordes acorded to be.
Reiose and thanke God, for evermore;
For now shal encrese thi consolacion,
Oure enemyes quaken and dreden fulsore,
That peas is made ther was division,
Whiche to them is a gret confusion,
And to us ioy and felicite;
God hold them longe in every season:
That Anglond may reioise concord and unite.
Now is sorowe with shame fled in to Fraunce,
As a felon that hath forsworn this londe;
Love hath put out malicious governaunce,
In every place bothe fre and bonde;
In Yorke, in Somerset as I understonde,
In Warrewik also is love and charite,
In Sarisbury eke, and in Northumbrelande;
That every man may reioise concord and unite.
Egremown, and Clifford, with other forsaide,
Ben set in the same opynyon;
In every quarter love is thus laide,
Grace and wisdom hath thus the dominacion:
Awake Welthe, and walke in this region,
Rounde aboute in toun and cite,
And thanke them that brought hit to this concluson;
Reioise Anglond to concorde and unite.
At Poules in Londone, with gret renoun,
On oure Ladi day in Lente this peas was wrought;
The kinge, the quene, with lordes many oone,
To worship that virgine as thei ought,
Wenten a procession, and spariden right nought,
In sighte of alle the comynalte,
In token that love was in herte and thought;
Reiose Anglond in concorde and unite.
Ther was bytwyn them lovely contynaunce,
Whiche was gret ioy to alle that ther were,
That long tyme hadden be in variaunce;
As frendes for ever that had be in fere,
Thei wenten togeder, and made goud chere;
France and Britayn repente shul thei,
For the bargayn shul thei abye ful dere;
Reiose Anglond in concorde and unite.
Oure soveraigne lord kyng God kepe alwey,
The quene, and the archbisshope of Canterbury,
And the bisshop of Wynchestre chanceller of Anglond,
And other that han labured to this love day.
God preserve them we pray hertly,
And London for thei ful diligently,
Kepten the peas in trowbel and adversite,
To bryng in reste thei labured ful truly;
Reioise Anglond in concorde and unite.
Of thre thynges I praise the worshipful Cite;
The first, the true faithe that thei have to the kyng;
The seconde, of love to the comynalte;
The thrid, goud rule for evermore kepynge;
The whiche God maynteyn evermore durynge,
And save the Maier and alle the worthi Cite;
And that is amys God brynge to amendynge,
That Anglond may reioise to concord and unite.
Neither of the ensuing articles, the whole of which are the production of the indefatigable Lydgate, can possibly be assigned to its proper date; and they are therefore arranged in the following order.
1. A Balade sent by a Poursyant to the Shirreves of London, acompanyed with theire Bretherne upon Mayes Daye, at Busshopes Wod, at an honurable Dyner, ech of them bringginge his Dysshe.
This Ballad, which occurs in Ashmole’s Collection of Manuscripts, is introduced from its having been addressed to the Sheriffs of London; but it contains little that is worthy of attention.
2. London Lickpenny.
Of the numerous Ballads composed by ’The Monk of Bury,’ this is perhaps the most curious and the best known; and, from its presenting a great deal of information relative to the Metropolis in the fifteenth century, it is of considerable interest. Two copies exist in MS. in the British Museum; one in the Harleian MS. 367, which is printed in Noorthouck’s and Dr. Pugh’s History of London, as well as in several other works; the other, in Stow’s hand-writing, in the Harleian MS. 542: and as they differ very materially from each other, a copy of each is inserted. To this Ballad, it has been thought right to add another, by the same writer, which has never been before printed, on a very similar subject; namely,
3. Upon the Emptiness of his Purse,—
In which he treats this, perhaps the greatest of all human misfortunes, since it prevents the alleviation of almost all others, with singular address. The subject seems to have been a favourite one with our early poets; for there is a Ballad with nearly the same title by Chaucer; and another is printed in ’The Boke of St. Albans.’
4. On Forked Head Dresses.
The head-dresses of females in the reign of Henry the Sixth closely resembled the cauchoises still worn by those of Normandy; and which excited the displeasure of Dan John in so great a degree as to have induced him to invoke the aid of his Muse in effecting their abolition. It seems no subject escaped that eternal scribbler’s attention; and if his abilities had equalled his disposition, he would probably have become the Juvenal of his age. Upon this occasion, however, he appears to have soared on rather a higher wing than usual; and the moral of his lay is the truism which has since been so beautifully expressed, that loveliness
“Is when unadorn’d, adorn’d the most.”
5. On Fraudulent Millers and Bakers.
This short Ballad would appear, from the following passage in Fabian’s Chronicle, to have been written in the 15th of Edw. IV. Ao 1475, if it were not, that though the date of Lydgate’s death has never been precisely ascertained, yet it is scarcely possible he could have lived to that year.
“This yere this mayer [Robert Bassett] dyd sharpe correccion upon bakers, for makynge of lyght brede; in so moche thatt he sett dyverse upon the pillory,” &c.
A similar circumstance might however have occurred some years before, notwithstanding that it is not noticed by the writers of the period.
A BALADE MADE BY LYDEGATE, SENT BY A POURSYANT TO THE SHIRREVES OF LONDON, ACOMPANYED WITH THEIRE BRETHERNE UPON MAYES DAYE, AT BUSSHOPES WOD, AT AN HONURABLE DYNER, ECHE OF THEM BRINGGINGE HIS DYSSHE.
[Ashmole’s MSS. No. 6943. Vol. 59. 2.]
Mighty Flourra, goddes of freshe floures,
Whiche clothed hast the soyle in lousty grene;
Made buddes springe with his swete showres,
By influence of the sonnes so sheene,
To do plesaunce of entent ful clene,
Unto the states whiche that now sitte here;
Hath veere doune sent hir owen doughter dere,
Making the vertue that dured in the roote,
Called of clerkes, the vertue vegytable,
For to trascend moste holsome and moste sweete,
Into the crope this saysoun so greable.
The bawmy lykour is so comendable,
That it rejoythe with the fresshe moysture,
Man, beeste, and foole, and every creature,
Whiche hathe repressed, swaged, and bore doune,
The grevous constreinte of the frostes heere;
And caused foolis for joye of this saysonne,
To cheese their mates, thane by natures loore,
With al gladnesse theire courage to restore,
Sitting on bowes fresshly nowe to synge,
Veere for to save at his home comynge;
Ful pleinly meninge in theire ermonye,
Wynter is goone, whiche did hem gret peyne;
And with theire sweete sugre melodye,
Thanking Nature theire goddesse sovereyne,
That they nowe have no mater to compleyne,
Hem for to proygne every morowneynge,
With lousty gladnesse at Phebus uprysinge;
And to declare ye hys magnifysence,
Howe vere inbringethe al felicytee,
After wynter’s mighty prevolence
Avoydinge stormys of al adversytee.
For shee hathe brought al prosperitee
To alle the states of this regyoun,
At his comynge to fore youre hye renoun,
To the mighty prynces, the palme of theire victorie;
And til knighthode nowe, she dothe presente
Noblesse in armes, laude, honnour, and glorie;
Pees to the people, in al hir best entente,
With grace and mercy fully to consente,
That provydence of hys discressioun,
Avoyde discorde and al derysyoun.
Wynter shal passe of hevynesse and trouble;
Flowres shal springe of perfite charite;
In hertes there shal be no meninge double;
Buddes shal of trouthe and unytee;
Plenty for to exyle duplicytee;
Lordes to regne in theire noble puissance;
The people obeye with feythful obeyssaunce;
Of alle estates there shal bee oone ymage;
And princes first shal ocupye the hede;
And prudent juges to correcte outrages,
Shal trespassours consteynen under drede,
That innosentes in theire lowlyhede,
As truwe comunes may bee theire socour,
Truwly contune in theire faithful labour;
And by the grace of oure lorde Jhesu,
That holly chirche may have parseveraunce,
Bee faythfull founde in al pertinaunce,
Mayre, provost, shirreff, eche in his substaunce,
And aldremen, whiche have the governaunce
Over the people, by vertue may abyde,
That noone oppression bee done to the pourayle.
Thus as the people of prudent pollycye,
Prynces of the right shal governe;
The chirche preye; the juges justefye;
And knighthode, manly, and prudently discerne,
Til light of trouthe so clerely the lanterne,
That rightewysnesse throughe this regyoune,
Represse the darknesse of al extorcyoune.
Thes be the tythinges wheeche that wee have brought:
Troubles exylinge of wynters rude derknesse;
Wherfore rejoye yowe in hert, wille, and thought;
Somer shal folowe to yowe, of al gladnesse;
And sithen she is mynistre of lustynesse,
Let her be welcome to yowe at hir comyng;
Sith she to yowe hathe brought so glad tythinge,
The noble princesse of moste magnifisence,
Qweene of al joye, of gladde suffisaunce,
May I be nowe comen to youre hye excellence,
Presenting yowe prosperous plesaunce,
Of al welfare moste foulsome haboundaunce;
As shee that hathe under hir demayne,
Of floures fresshe, moste holsome, and sovereraine.
L’ENVOYE TO ALLE THE STATES PRESENT.
This Princesse hathe by favour of nature,
Repared ageine that wynter hathe defade,
And foolis loustely reviv ——
Theire lusty notes, and theire ermenye glade;
And under braunches, under plesant shade,
Rejoyssing theire with many swete odours,
And Zepherus with many fresshe odours,
Copirted fayre, with motleye whyte and rede,
All hilles, pleynes, and lusty bankes grene,
And made hir bawme to fleete in every mede;
And fury Tytane shewe oute heer tresses sheene,
And upon busshes, and hawthornes kene,
The nightingale with plesant ermonye,
Colde wynter stormes nowe she dothe defye.
On Parnoso, the lusty Muses nyene,
Citheera with hir sone nowe dwellis,
This sayson singe, and theire notes tuwyne,
Of poetrye, besyde the cristal wellis,
Calyope the dytes of hem tellis;
And Orpheus with hees stringes sharpe,
Syngethe a roundell with his temperd herpe.
Wherfore to alle estates here present,
This plesant tyme, moste of lustynesse,
May, is nowe comen to fore yowe of entent,
To bringe yowe alle to joye and fresshnesse,
Prosparitee, welfare, and al gladnesse;
And al that may youre hyenesse qweerne and pleese,
In any parte or doone youre hertes eese.
[From the Copy in the Autograph of John Stow, in the Harleian MS. 542, f. 102.]
In London ther I was lent,
I saw myselfe where trouthe shuld be ateynte;
Fast to Westminstar ward I went,
To a man of lawe to make my complaynt;
I sayd for Maris love, that holy seynt,
Have pity on the powre that would procede;
I would gyve sylvar, but my purs is faynt,
For lacke of money I may not spede.
As I thrast thrughe out the thronge,
Among them all my hode was gonn;
Netheles I let not longe,
To Kyngs benche tyll I come;
Byfore a juge I knelyd anon,
I prayd hym for Gods sake he would take hede;
Full rewfully to hym I gan make my mone,
For lacke of money I may not spede.
Benethe hym set clerks a great rowt,
Fast they writen by one assent;
There stode up one and cryed round about,
Richard, Robert, and one of Kent:
I wist not wele what he ment,
He cried so thike there indede,
There were stronge theves shamed and shent,
But they that laked money mowght not spede.
Unto the Comon place y yowde thoo,
Where sat one with a sylker houde;
I dyd hym reverence as me ought to do;
I tolde hym my case as well as I coude,
And sayd all my goods by nowrd and by sowde,
I am defrawdyd with great falshed;
He would not geve me a momme of his mouthe,
For lake of money I may not spede.
Then I went me unto the Rollis,
Before the clerks of the Chauncerie;
There were many qui tollis,
But I herd no man speke of me;
Before them I knelyd upon my kne,
Shewyd them myne evedence, and they began to reade.
They seyde trewer thinge might there nevar be,
But for lacke of money I may not spede.
In Westminster hall I found one,
Went in a longe gown of ray;
I crowched and kneled before them anone,
For Marys love of helpe I gan them pray;
As he had be wrothe, he voyded away,
Bakward his hand he gan me byd,
I wot not what thow menest gan he say,
Ley downe sylvar, or here thow may not spede.
In all Westminstar hall I could find nevar a one,
That for me would do, thowghe I shuld dye;
Without the dores were Flemings grete woon;
Upon me fast they gan to cry,
And sayd, Mastar, what will ye cepen or by?
Fine felt hatts, spectacles for to rede;
Of this gay gere a great cawse why,
For lake of money I might not spede.
Then to Westminster gate y went,
When the sone was at highe prime;
Cokes to me, they toke good entent,
Called me nere, for to dyne,
And proferyd me good brede, ale, and wyne;
A fayre clothe they began to sprede,
Rybbes of beffe bothe fat and fine;
But for lacke of money I might not spede.
In to London I gan me hy;
Of all the lond it bearethe the prise,
Hot pescods, one gan cry,
Strabery rype, and chery in the ryse;
One bad me come nere and by some spice,
Pepar, and saffron, they gan me bede,
Clove, grayns, and flowre of rise;
For lacke of money I might not spede.
Then into Chepe I gan me drawne,
Where I sawe stond moche people;
One bad me come nere, and by fine cloth of lawne,
Paris thred coton and umple;
I seyd there upon I could no skyle,
I am not wont there to in dede,
One bad me by an hewre my hed to hele;
For lake of money I might not spede.
Then went I forth by London stone,
Thrught out all Canywike strete;
Drapors to me they called anone,
Grete chepe of clothe they gan me hete;
Then come ther one, and cried hot shepes fete;
Risshes faire and grene, anothar began to grede,
Bothe melwell and makarell I gran mete;
But for lacke of money I myght not spede.
Then I hied me into Est Chepe;
One cries ribes of befe, and many a pie;
Pewtar potts they clatteryd or a heape;
Ther was harpe, pipe, and sawtry;
Ye by cokke, nay by cokke, some began to cry;
Some sang of Jenken and Julian, to get themselves mede;
Ful fayne I wold hadd of that mynstralsie,
But for lacke of money I cowld not spede.
Into Cornhill anon I yede,
Where is moche stolne gere amonge;
I saw wher henge myne owne hode,
That I had lost in Westminstar amonge the throng;
Then I beheld it with lokes full longe,
I kenned it as well as I dyd my crede,
To be myne owne hode agayne; me thought it wrong,
But for lacke of money I might not spede.
Then came the Taverner, and toke me by the sleve,
And seyd Ser, a pint of wyn would yow assay?
Syr, qwod I, it may not greve,
For a peny may do no more then it may:
I dranke a pint, and therefore gan pay;
Sore a hungred away I yede,
For well London lykke peny for ones eye,
For lake of money I may not spede.
Then I hyed me to Byllingesgate,
And cried wagge wagge gow hens;
I praye a barge man, for Gods sake,
That they would spare me myn expens;
He sayde, ryse up, man, and get the hens,
What menist thow, I will do on the no almes dede,
Here scapeth no man byneth ij pens,
For lacke of money I myght not spede.
Then I conveyed me into Kent;
For of the law would I medle no more,
By caus no man to me would take entent,
I dight me to the plowe even as I did before.
Thus save London that in Bethelem was bore,
And every trew man of law God graunt hymsels med,
And they that be othar, God theyr state restore;
For he that lacketh money with them he shall not spede.
EXPLICIT LONDON LIKKE PENY.
[Harleian MSS. 367, f. 126, 127.]
To London once, my stepps I bent,
Where trouth in no wyse should be faynt:
To Westmynster ward I forthwith went,
To a man of law to make complaynt.
I sayd, for Mary’s love that holy saynt,
Pity the poore that would proceede;
But for lack of mony I cold not spede.
And as I thrust the prese amonge,
By froward chaunce my hood was gone;
Yet for all that I stayd not longe,
Tyll at the kynge bench I was come.
Before the judge I kneled anon,
And prayd hym for Gods sake to take heede;
But for lack of money I myght not spede.
Beneth them sat clarkes a great rout,
Which fast dyd wryte by one assent;
There stoode up one and cryed about,
Rychard, Robert, and John of Kent;
I wyst not wele what this man ment:
He cryed so thycke there indede,
But he that lackt mony myght not spede.
Unto the common place I yode thoo,
Where sat one with a sylken hoode;
I dyd hym reverence, for I ought to do so,
And told my case as well as I coud,
How my goods were defrauded me by falshood.
I gat not a mum of his mouth for my meed,
And for lack of mony I myght not spede.
Unto the Rolls I gat me from thence,
Before the clarkes of the chauncerye,
Where many I found earnyng of pence,
But none at all once regarded mee:
I gave them my playnt uppon my knee;
They lyked it well when they had it reade,
But lackyng mony I could not be sped.
In Westmynster hall I found out one,
Which went in a long gown of raye;
I crouched and kneled before hym anon:
For Maryes love, of help I hym praye.
I wot not what thou meanest, gan he say;
To get me thence he dyd me bede,
For lack of mony I cold not speed.
Within this hall, neithere ryche nor yett poor,
Wold do for me ought, although I shold dye;
Which seing, I gat me out of the doore,
Where Flemynge began on me for to cry,
Master, what will you copen or by,
Fyne felt hatts, or spectacles to reede?
Lay down your sylver, and here you may spede.
Then to Westmynster gate I presently went,
When the sonn was at hyghe pryme;
Cokes to me, they tooke good entent,
And profered me bread with ale and wyne,
Rybbs of befe both fat and ful fyne;
A fayre cloth they gan for to sprede,
But wantyng mony I might not be speede.
Then unto London I dyd me hye,
Of all the land it beareth the pryse;
Hot pescods one began to crye,
Straberry rype, and cherryes in the ryse:
One bad me come nere, and by some spyce,
Peper, and sayforne, they gan me bede;
But for lacke of money I myght not spede.
Then to the Chepe I began me drawne,
Where mutch people I sawe for to stande;
One ofred me velvet, sylke, and lawne,
An other he taketh me by the haunde,
Here is Parys thred, the fynest in the launde.
I never was used to such thyngs in dede,
And wanting mony I myght not spede.
Then went I forth by London stone,
Throughout all Canwyke streete;
Drapers mutch cloth me offred anone:
Then comes me one, cryd hot shepes feete,
One cryde makerell, ryshes grene, another gan greete,
One bad me by a hood to cover my head;
But fore want of mony I myght not be sped.
Then I hyed me into Estchepe;
One cryes rybbs of befe, and many a pye;
Pewter potts they clattered on a heape,
There was harpe, pype, and mynstrelsye;
Yea by cock, nay by cock, some began crye,
Some songe of Jenken and Julyan for there mede;
But for lack of mony I myght not spede.
Then into Cornhyll anon I yode,
Where was much stolen gere amonge;
I saw where honge myne owne hoode,
That I had lost amonge the thronge;
To by my own hood I thought it wronge,
I knew it well as I dyd my crede;
But for lack of mony I could not spede.
The Taverner took mee by the sleve;
Sir, sayth he, wyll you our wyne assay?
I answerd, that can not mutch me greve,
A peny can do no more than it may:
I dranke a pynt, and for it dyd pay;
Yet sore a hungerd from thence I yede,
And wantyng my mony I cold not spede.
Then hyed I me to Belyngsgate;
And one cryed hoo, go we hence;
I prayd a barge man for Gods sake,
That he wold spare me my expence.
Thou scapst not here, quod he, under ij pence,
I lyst not yet bestow my almes dede:
Thus lacking mony I could not speede.
Then I convayed me into Kent;
For of the law wold I meddle no more,
Because no man to me tooke entent,
I dyght me to do as I dyd before.
Now Jesus that in Bethlem was bore,
Save London, and send trew lawyers there mede,
For who so wants mony with them shall not spede.
EXPLICIT LONDON LYCKPENY.