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10. Quicquid homo scribat (In fine) [Trentham version] Henrici quarti primus regni fuit annus    Quo michi defecit visus ad acta mea. Omnia tempus habent; finem natura ministrat,    Quem virtute sua frangere nemo potest. Ultra posse nichil, quamvis michi velle remansit;    Amplius ut scribam non michi posse manet. Dum potui scripsi, set nunc quia curua senectus    Turbavit sensus, scripta relinquo scolis. Scribat qui veniet post me discrecior alter,    Ammodo namque manus et mea penna silent. Hoc tamen, in fine verborum queso meorum,    Prospera quod statuat regna futura Deus. Amen.

10. To Whatever a Man Writes It was in the first year of the reign of King Henry IV    When my sight failed for my deeds. All things have their time; nature applies a limit,    Which no man can break by his own power. I can do nothing beyond what is possible, though my will has remained;    My ability to write more has not stayed. While I was able I wrote, but now because stooped old age    Has troubled my senses, I leave writing to the schools. Let someone else more discreet who comes after me write,    For from this time forth my hand and pen will be silent. Nevertheless I ask this one final thing, the last of my words:    That God make our kingdoms prosperous in the future. Amen.

(see note)

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[Cotton, Harleian, Glasgow version] Nota hic in fine qualiter a principio illius cronice que Vox Clamantis dicitur, una cum sequenti cronica que Tripertita est, tam de tempore regis Ricardi secundi usque in ipsius deposicionem, quam de coronacione illustrissimi domini regis Henrici quarti usque in annum regni sui secundum, ego licet indignus inter alios scribentes scriptor a diu solicitus, precipue super hiis que medio tempore in Anglia contingebant, secundum varias rerum accidencias varia carmina, que ad legendum necessaria sunt, sub compendio breviter conscripsi. Et nunc, quia tam gravitate senectutis quam aliarum infirmitatum multipliciter depressus, ulterius de cronicis scribere discrete non sufficio; excusacionem meam necessariam, prout patet, consequenter declarare intendo.

Note here in the end how from the beginning of the chronicle that is called Vox Clamantis, together with the following chronicle, which is the Tripertita, covering the time of King Richard II up to his deposition, as well as the coronation of the most illustrious lord King Henry IV up the second year of his reign, according to the different turns of events I the author, though unworthy in comparison to other authors, being long concerned especially over what was happening during this time in England, composed in a brief compendium a series of poems of essential reading concerning the various events that occurred. And now, weighed down in many ways as much by the burden of old age as of other ailments, I am not up to the task of writing distinctly about the chronicles any more and I intend to declare my recusal, whose necessity is obvious, in what follows.

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Henrici regis annus fuit ille secundus    Scribere dum cesso, sum quia cecus ego. Ultra posse nichil, quamuis michi velle ministrat,    Amplius ut scribam non meus actus habet. Scribere dum potui, studiosus plurima scripsi;    Pars tenet hec mundum, pars tenet illa Deum: Vana tamen mundi mundo scribenda reliqui,    Scriboque finali carmine vado mori. Scribat qui veniet post me discrecior alter,    Ammodo namque manus et mea penna silent. Sic quia nil manibus potero conferre valoris,    Est michi de precibus ferre laboris onus. Deprecor ergo meis lacrimis, vivens ego cecus,    Prospera quod statuas regna futura, Deus,    Daque michi sanctum lumen habere tuum. Amen.

That was the second year of King Henry IV    When I stopped writing, because I am blind. My ability serves me no further, although my will does,    But my physical agency lacks the means to write more. While I was able to write, I wrote very many things with zeal;    This part clings to the world, that part clings to God. Nevertheless I have left to the world its vanities still to be written,    And with a final poem I write and I go to die. Let other, wiser men who come after me write on,    For from this time forth my hand and my pen will be silent. Thus, because with my hands I can compose nothing of value,    It is my task to bear the burden of my toil in my prayers. Therefore I plead with my tears, living and blind,    That you make our kingdoms prosperous in the future, O God,    And grant that I receive Your holy light. Amen.

(see note)

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[All Souls version] Hic in fine notandum est qualiter, ab illa cronica que Vox Clamantis dicitur usque in finem istius cronice que Tripertita est, ego inter alios scribentes super hiis que medio tempore in Anglia contingebant, secundum varias rerum accidencias varia carmina, prout patet, que ad legendum necessaria sunt, notabiliter conscripsi. Sed nunc, quia ulterius scribere non sufficio, excusacionis mee causam scriptis subsequentibus plenius declarabo.

Here in the end it is to be noted how, from the chronicle that is called Vox Clamantis to the end of the chronicle that is called Tripertita, I notably composed different poems, which are necessary to read, in the midst of others writing about the things that happened in England in this intervening time, according to the different turns of events, as is obvious. But now, because I am not up to the task of writing any more, I will explain the reason for my recusal more fully in the following writings.

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Quicquid homo scribat finem natura ministrat,    Que velud umbra fugit, nec fugiendo redit; Illa michi finem posuit, quo scribere quicquam    Ulterius nequio, sum quia cecus ego. Posse meum transit, quamuis michi velle remansit;    Amplius ut scribat hoc michi posse negat. Carmina dum potui, studiosus plurima scripsi;    Pars tenet hec mundum, pars tenet illa Deum. Vana tamen mundi mundo scribenda reliqui,    Scriboque mentali carmine verba Dei. Quamuis exterius scribendi deficit actus,    Mens tamen interius scribit et ornat opus. Sic quia de manibus nichil amodo scribo valoris,    Scribam de precibus que nequit illa manus. Hoc ego, vir cecus, presentibus oro diebus,    Prospera quod statuas regna futura, Deus,    Daque michi sanctum lumen habere tuum. Amen.

To whatever a man writes, Nature applies a limit    Which flees like a shadow, nor returns having fled; She has placed a limit on me, so that I am unable    To write any longer, because I am blind. Although my will remains, my ability passes;    It declines to write any more. When I was able, I wrote many poems with zeal;    One part deals with the world, the other with God. But I have left to the world its vanities still to be written,    And in a poem of my imagination I write the words concerning God. Although the act of writing externally now fails me,    Still my mind writes within me and adorns the work. Thus because I can write nothing further with my hands,    I will write with my prayers what my hand cannot. This is what I, a blind man, pray for in these present days,    That You make our kingdoms prosperous in the future, O God,    And grant that I receive your holy light.

(see note) (see note)