5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 130 135 140 145 150 155 160 165 170 175 180 185 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 225 230 235 240 245 250 255 260 265 270 275 280 285 290 295 300 305 310 315 320 325 330 335 340 345 350 355 360 365 370 375 380 385 390 395 400 405 410 415 420 425 430 435 440 445 450 455 460 465 470 475 480 485 490 495 500 505 510 515 520 525 530 535 540 545

Concordia facta inter regem et cives Londonie, per fratrem Riccardum Maydiston TULLIUS IN laudem tantam sustollit amicos [fol. 8vb]     Quod licet, hiis demptis, optima nil valeant. "Stes," ait, "in celis, videas ibi queque beata,     Hauriat auris in hiis utraque dulce melos: Quicquid adhuc sensus poterit tibi pascere quinos     Nil valet acceptum, si nec amicus adest. Si careas socio, cui sata placencia narres,     Hec eadem sentis non placuisse tibi." Hinc tibi, Ricarde, duplante iugo michi iuncte      (Nomen et omen habes: sic socius meus es), Gaudia visa michi Trenovantum nuper in urbe     Actus amicicia glisco referre modo; Et licet incultum carmen tibi condere curem,     Parce, precor, cure: parcere debet amor. M CAPE, TER quoque C, deciesque novem duo iunge      (Hunc numerum anni supputo dando notis). Tunc bis ter Phebo fuerat soror associata,     Cum bona felici sunt, Nova Troia, tibi. Mensis ut Augusti ter septima fulsit in orbem     Lux, tibi, Londonie, rumor amenus adest; Namque tuum regem, sponsum dominumque tuumque,     Quem tibi sustulerat Perfida Lingua, capis. Invidiosa cohors regem tibi vertit in iram,     Desereret thalamum sponsus ut ipse suum; Sed quia totus amor tuus est - et amantis ymago     Formosior Paride - nescit odisse diu. Adde quod in miseros semper solet hic misereri,     Nec habet ultrices rex pius iste manus. Quot mala, quot mortes tenero sit passus ab evo,     Quamque sit inultus, Anglia tota videt. Quid cupit hic servire deo, nisi semper et esse     Pacificum, letum, nilque perire bonum? Sic fovet ecclesiam, statuens statuum moderamen,     Sternere ne liceat quod statuere patres. Effugat ingratos, cupidos, stolidos, truculentos:     Queque decent regem hec rapit ipse sibi. Talis adolescens toto non restat in orbe,     Qui sciat ut Salomon regna tenere sua. Hic licet accensus foret in te, Troia, parumper,     Grata modo facies se docet esse piam. Non poterat mordax detractans lingua tenere     Quin cuperet thalamum sponsus adire suum. Qui libertates solitas tibi dempserat omnes     Nunc redit, et plures reddere promptus eas. Urbis custodem miles quem rex ibi signat     Alloquitur cives sic, rutilante die: "Regis in occursum vestri vos este parati, [fol. 9ra]     Percipiatque palam quam bene nunc veniat. Tocius ecclesie fiat processio cleri,     Omnis et ordo suas se ferat ante cruces. Nulla sit ars urbis que non distincta seorsum     Splendidius solito trans vada vadat eques. Quicquid in urbe probum fuerit promatur in ista      (Nam gaudete) die: pax tribuetur," ait. Hiis animata loquelis tota cohors sociatur,     Preparat et cultu se meliore suo; Ornat et interea se pulcre queque platea:     Vestibus auratis urbs micat innumeris. Floris odoriferi specie fragrante platea,     Pendula perque domos purpura nulla deest, Aurea, coccinea, bissinaque tinctaque vestis     Pinxerat hic celum arte iuvante novum. Quos tulit ante dies istos plebs ista labores,     Quas tulit expensas, os reserare nequit. Quid moror? Ecce, dies transit: properatur ab urbe     Regis in occursum, coniugis atque sue. Quis numerare queat numerum turbe numerose,     Que velud astra poli densius inde fluit? Milia viginti iuvenes numerantur equestres;     Qui pedibus pergunt non capit hos numerus. Custos precedit, comitantur eumque quater sex,     Quos aldirmannos urbs habet ut proceres. (Iure senatorio, urbs hiis regitur quasi Roma,     Hiisque preest maior, quem populus legerit.) Hiis erat ornatus albus color et rubicundus,     Hos partita toga segregat a reliquis. Clavibus assumptis, urbis gladio quoque, custos     Precedit, proceres subque sequntur eum, H[o]s sequitur phalerata cohors cuiuslibet artis.     Secta docet sortem quemque tenere suam: Hic argentarius, hic piscarius, secus illum     Mercibus hic deditus, venditor atque meri; Hic apothecarius, pistor, pictor, lathomusque;     Hic cultellarius, tonsor, et armifaber; Hic carpentarius, scissor, sartor, ibi sutor;     Hic pelliparius fulloque, mango, faber; Hic sunt archifices, ibi carnifices, ibi tector;     Hic lorimarius pannariusque simul; [Hic] vaginator, hic zonarius, ibi textor;     Hic candelarius, cerarius pariter; Hic pandoxator, ibi streparius, ibi iunctor;     Est ibi pomilio, sic avigerulus hic. "A" super "R" gratis stat in artibus hic numeratis      [ . . . . . . . ] Hic cirotecarius bursistaque, caupo coqusque:     Ars patet ex secta singula queque sua. [fol. 9rb] Cerneret has turmas quisquis puto non dubitaret     Cernere se formas ordinis angelici. Tam valido solet auxilio qui Marcius exstat     Prelia suffultus nulla timere pugil. Quelibet ut proprias est ars sortita phalangas;     Mille quater stadiis omne repletur iter. PSALLITE NUNC, cives; regi nunc psallite vestro!     En, rex vester adest; psallite, quod sapit hic! Rege propinquante, comites glomerantur heriles.     Ha, michi! Quam pulcrum cernere credis eos! Dum niveo resideret equo, se quique retractant     Ut pateat populo rex pius ipse suo. Vernula quam facies fulvis redimita capillis     Comptaque sub serto preradiante coma; Fulget et ex auro vestis sua rubra colore,     Que tenet interius membra venusta nimis. Iste velud Troylus vel ut Absolon ipse decorus,     Captivat sensum respicientis eum. Non opus est omnem regis describere formam:     Regibus in cuntis non habet ille parem. Larga decoris ei si plus natura dedisset,     Clauderet hunc thalamis invida forte Venus! Sistit ut in medias super arva repleta catervas,     Nobilibus regni cingitur, ut decuit. Nec procul est coniux, regina suis comitata:     Anna sibi nomen; re sit et Anna, precor. Pulchra quidem pulcris stat circumcincta puellis;     Vincit Amazonibus Troia Novella sub hiis. Sternitur ex gemmis nitidis sparsim sua vestis     Ad capud a planta; nil nisi gemma patet! Nulla deest adamas, carbunculus, atque berillus:     Qui lapis est precii, sternitur inde capud. Quod nitet in fronte nitida radiatque per aures     Verberat obtuitum, ne foret inde satur. Aurea rex dum frena trahit et sistere cogit     Dextrarium, proceres mox populusque silent. Accessit propius custos, secumque togati;     Claves leva manus, dextra tenet gladium, Ad se converso puncto mucronis; ad instar     Tristis captivi, sic sua verba refert: "En, rex, cuius ut est nimium metuenda potestas,     Sic et amanda nimis, nec reverenda minus: En, humiles cives, vestris pedibus provoluti,     Reddunt se vobis et sua cunta simul. Clavibus hiis gladioque, renunciat urbs modo sponte:     Vestre voluntati prompta subesse venit. [fol. 9va] Hoc rogat assidue, lacrimis madefacta deintus,     Mitis ut in cameram rex velit ire suam. Non laceret, non dilaniet pulcherrima regni     Menia, nam sua sunt, quicquid et exstat in hiis. Non oderit thalamum sponsus quem semper amavit;     Nulla subest causa cur minuatur amor." Sumit ad hec gladium, claves quoque, Londoniarum;     Rex cito militibus tradit utrosque suis: "Acceptamus," ait, "tam vos quam reddere vestrum,     Et placet ornatus exhibitus michi nunc, Sed quid in urbe mea geritur modo tendo videre,     Si scierit regem gens mea nosse suum." Transit et interea custos, comitatus eisdem     Sex quater, et sistunt regia terga retro. Reginam propius veniunt, humili quoque vultu.     Valde precantur eam, spondet et ipsa bonum. Corde favet, sed valde dolet quia regis in iram     Urbs tam clara ruit, "Spes tamen exstat," ait. HIIS (VELUD EST dictum) gestis, properatur ad urbem;     Ars artem sequitur: est prior ultima nunc. Ut valor est artis, retinet loca digna valori:     Gaudet honore suo quelibet atque gradu. Nigris, purpureis, albis, fulvis bene tinctis,     Viridibus, rubris, puniceisque togis Ac bipartitis; sunt vestibus atque phalangis     Artes distincte, quod decet artifices. Illa prius, hec posterius, ars tendit ad urbem;     Vix exercitui sufficiebat iter! Turba premit turbam; iacet hic, ruit hic, cadit ille.      [ . . . . . . . ] Musica nulla tacet: cantus, strepitus, neque clangor;     Altaque concussit ethera dulce melos, Dumque chori fratrum psallunt regemque salutant;     Incipit amplecti mox venerando cruces. Basia dat crucibus; imitatur eum sua coniux;     Et rogat ut regnum servet uterque deus. T[u]nc respirare cepit tristis prius aura,     Tempestas etenim turbinis ante fuit. Sic pluerat (quod tristis erat); tunc sexus uterque     Turbari metuens turbine tam valido; Ast Nothus ut distat, lenisque Favonius astat,     Aura serena micat: urbs modo nil trepidat. Strata foras urbem, qua pulcra suburbia restant -     Hec "opus Australe" dicitur - est etenim. Obviat hic regi vir, in exilium modo missus, [fol. 9vb]     Arboreamque crucem fert, homicida reus. Pronus ut ante pedes iacuit prostratus equinos,     Flens rogitat veniam: rex sibi donat eam; Sicque pium miseri miseret solitum misereri,     Gracia quam tribuit restituatur ei! Aurea regine super erigitur capud Anne     Pulcra corona - parum non valet illa, putes! Mirificum opus hoc lapidum radiosa venustas     Ditat, et eximiam efficit illa lucem. Grata fuit facies vario redimita monili;     Cultus enim patrie pulcrius ornat eam. Pontis ut usque pedem propiat rex, stant ibi cives     Dextrariique duo, inclita dona nimis. Purpura cum bisso tegit hos partita caballos:     Cesar honorifice supra sederet eos! Hos ducit ad regem custos deputatus in urbe,     Urbis et ex parte talia verba refert: "Rex pie, rex prudens, rex pacifice, dominator:     Nil nisi pax petitur vestra - rogamus eam! En, ligios vestros, letos foris, intus ovantes,     Gaudia magna nimis hiis tulit ista dies, Quod ducitis dignum thalamum iam visere vestrum;     Quas valet urbs grates tota referre cupit. Sed quia quicquid habet nimis [est] parvum dare regi,     Hos tamen optat equos vestra manus capiat. Dantur in hoc signum, quod se reddunt modo cives:     Corpora, divicias, Pergama, queque sua. In vestris manibus sit eorum vitaque morsque,     Et regat ad libitum regia virga suos." Rex, contentus ad hec, "Et nos," ait, "ista placenter     Munera suscipimus: iraque nostra cadit. Concedimus pacem genti que restat in urbe;     Plebs mea nunc erit hec, rex et ero sibi nunc." Hec ut ait, vultu solido satis atque sereno,     Letificat mestos vox ea mille viros. Ordine consimili, coniux ubi regia pausat,     Pergitur, et custos taliter inquit ei: "O generosaque nobilis imperatoria proles,     Stipite nata quidem magnifici generis. Vos deus elegit, ad sceptra Britannica digne:     Imperii consors estis, et apta fore. Flectere regales poterit regina rigores,     Mitis ut in gentem rex velit esse suam. Mollit amore virum mulier: deus huic dedit illam.     Tendat ad hoc vester, o pia, dulcis amor! [fol. 10ra] Leta cupit faciem plebs hec modo cernere vestram,     In qua consistunt et salus et sua spes. En, presentat equm vobis, licet hoc minus equo     Extiterit donum, corde tamen hillari. Est nam qui teneros vestros leviter ferat artus;     Ambulat et numquam cespitat in phaleris. Partiti tegitur equs hic ex veste coloris     Purpurei bissi - sic fuerant reliqui. Accipiat domina (modicum licet) hoc modo munus:     Supplicat instanter integra nostra cohors." Suscipit illa datum, grates referendo benignas,     Spondet et auxilium quod valet illa suum. Voce licet tenui loqueretur et ut muliebri,     Grata tamen facies urbis amica fuit. TALITER HIIS gestis, gaudenter itur in urbem;     Turba premit turbam, sic iter artat eam. Venit ut ad portam pontis regina, patenter     Sors bona prodigium mox dedit, ecce, novum: Namque sequntur eam currus duo, cum dominabus;     Rexerat hos Pheton; unus enim cecidit. Femina feminea sua dum sic femina nudat,     Vix poterat risum plebs retinere suum. Casus et ille placet, veniat (rogo) quod michi signat,     Corruat ut luxus et malus omnis amor! Pergitur hinc; rutilant, fulgent, splendentque platee:     Omnibus in vicis plauditur et canitur. Spectantur pulcre, dum spectant ista, puelle,     Nulla fenestra fuit, has nisi que tenuit. Virgineas facies qui cerneret urbis in alto,     Quod decus est ymo sperneret ut nichilum. Quippe satis lento passu transitur in urbe,     Concursu populi prepediente viam. At ubi perventum medium fuit urbis et usque     Introitum vici, dicitur ille "Forum," Quales texture picturarumque figure,     Qualis et ornatus scribere quis poterit? Nempe videtur ibi, de summis usque deorsum,     Nil nisi divicie, vultus et angelici. Stillat aqueductus Bachum - nec adest ibi Tetis! -     Rubra dat ille liquor pocula mille viris. Huius et in tecto steterat quasi celicus ordo,     Qui canit angelicos, arte iuvante, melos. Densa velud folia seu flores, sic volat aurum,     Undique virginea discuciente manu. Itur abhinc; mediam dum rex venit usque plateam, [fol. 10rb]        Cernit ibi castrum, stat: stupet hinc nimium. Pendula per funes est fabrica totaque turris,     Etheris et medium vendicat illa locum; Stant et in hac turri iuvenis formosaque virgo,     Hic velud angelus est, hec coronata fuit. Cerneret has facies quisquis, puto, non dubitaret     Nil fore sub celo quod sibi plus placeat. Rex reginaque tunc astant, bene discucientes     Quid velit hec turris alta vel hii iuvenes. Descendunt ab ea iuvenis, simul ipsaque virgo;     Nulla fuit scala, nec patuere gradus. Nubibus inclusi veniunt, et in ethere pendent,     Quo tamen ingenio nescio, crede michi! Iste tenet ciphum; geminas gerit illa coronas.     Hec nitidis gemmis; plenus et iste mero. Hec rutilante novo fabricata quidem satis auro     Singula testatur fulgida materies. Materiam superavit opus: patet hoc et in artis     Et simul artificis subtilitate nova. Optulit ergo suas custodi virgo coronas;     Quas in utraque manu, sic el[o]quendo, tenet: "Rex," ait, "illustris reginaque nobilis, ambos     Custodiat semper vos deus incolumes! Qui dat terreni vobis dyademata regni     Regna perhennia celestia donet item! Cernite iam plebem vestram, quam leta salutat     Vos et honorare gliscit, ut ipsa valet. Nititur ex studio (sensu quoque) quod habet omni     Pendere nunc vobis intime quod placeat; Mittit et hinc, binas vobis referendo coronas,     Innumeras grates, si capiatis eas. Non decet hoc alios donum; rogitat tamen ipsa,     Sumat ut hoc placite vestra benigna manus." Contentantur ad hec tam rex quam regia coniux;     Subridendo parum sumit uterque datum. Ridet et ad vinum roseum, quod ridet in auro,     Quodque propinat ei portitor angelicus. Spem tulit ex ridente gena tunc plebs utriusque,     Obsequiis animos se quietasse suos. Invisis gradibus, simul angelus ipsaque virgo,     Nubibus inclusi, mox loca prima petunt. USQUE MONASTERIUM Pauli cito tunc properatur,     Cuius et ante fores mira patet species: Trino tronus ibi circumdatus undique giro     Angelici prefert ordinis effigiem, Angelicisque choris sic virginei sociantur, [fol. 10va]     Psallentes pariter quisque canore suo, Sicque micant facies iuvenum tam in hiis quam in illis,     Fiat ut extaticus intime respiciens. Nam puerilis etas iuvenum sexus utriusque     Extat ut est maior, sedibus inferior. Supra sedebat eos iuvenis quasi sit deus ipse;     Lux radiosa sibi solis ad instar inest. Flammigerum vultum gerit hic, niveas quoque vestes;     Supra ierarchias celicas ille sedet. Organa pulsat ibi; mentem rapit hec melodia,     Vocibus angelicis dum canit ille chorus. Hinc decor, hinc dulcor: oculus recreatur, et auris:     Singula cernentes obstupuere simul. Quot putas hic musas, quot et instrumenta canora,     Quam quoque multimodum hic genus organicum? Fistula, cistula, tibia, timpana cum monacordo,     Organa, psalteria, cimbala cumque lira, Zambuce, cithare, situleque tubeque vielle,     Buccina cum nablis, simphonicisque choris. Singula scripturo deerit michi sensus et hora:     Plurima namque michi sustulit ipse stupor. Rex reginaque mox post hec pedites adierunt,     Sacra monasterii tunc visitare loca. O[c]currunt pariter primas et episcopus urbis;     Obviat et clerus illius ecclesie. Concomitantur eos, in cultu pontificali,     Ad Erkenwaldi sancta sepulcra simul. Quippe, deo precibus sanctoque datis venerato;     Concito scandit equm, qui fuit ante pedes. EST PLUS ADHUC. Transitur abhinc, in Lud quoque porta:     Consimilis cultus stat, similisque nitor. Ad fluvii pontem, nimium bene culta refulgent     Agmina spirituum: hii quoque dulce canunt, Hii dant incensum, hii psallunt, hiique salutant,     Floribus hii sternunt singula subter eos. Ast ubi perventum fuit ad Barram cito Templi,     Silva super porte tecta locata fuit! Hec, quasi desertum, tenuit genus omne ferarum,     Mixtum reptilibus, vermibus, et variis. Sunt ibi spineta, sunt dumi, suntque rubeta;     Fraxinus et corulus, quercus et alta pirus, Prunus, acer, pepulus, populus quoque, tilia, fagus,     Ulm[u]s, lentiscus, palma, salix tremulus; Hic lupus, hic leo, pardus, et ursus, et hic monacornus,     Hic elephas, castor, simia, tigris, aper, Hic onager, cervus celer, hic panteraque, dama, [fol. 10vb]     Hic vulpes fetens, taxus, ibique lepus. Currunt, discurrunt, pugnant, mordent, saliuntque,     Ut solet ad vastum bestia seva nemus. Astitit hiis medius sanctus baptista Iohannes,     Indicat hic digito: "Agnus et ecce dei!" Inspicit attente rex hunc quia, quem notat iste     Illius ut meminit, micior inde fuit: Nam quia devotus colit hunc constanter eidem     Pre reliquis sanctis porrigit ipse preces. Huius ad intuitum, si quid sibi manserat ire,     Extitit extinctum protinus usque nichil. Angelus a tecto descendens mox satis alto,     Splendida dona nimis fert in utraque manu, Sunt etenim tabule, sacris altaribus apte:     Quas nequit inspiciens immemor esse dei. Inde crucifixi Christi stat sculpta figura,     Discipuli flentis, matris et extatice; Sculpitur hic et uterque latro, velud in cruce pendens:     Ut deus est passus, tota patet series. Quod minus extat in hiis, quod vilius, hoc fuit aurum:     Multimodis gemmis pingitur istud opus. Non fuerant vise tabule prius orbis in amplo     Que deceant velud hec tam bene sceptrigeram. Sumit ab angelicis manibus tabulas modo dictas     Custos, sicque sua publice verba refert: "Salve, pater populi! Rex, dux, princeps, modo salve!     Salvet et omnipotens vos deus, alma salus! Quam fuit hec preclara dies hiis civibus, in qua     Constituit regem vos deus esse suum! Prole patrissante - Ricardi quod fuit ante     Nomen adhuc repetit quicquid honoris erat. Regibus ergo probis patribusque bonis bona proles     Successura fuit: sors dedit ut decuit. Nobilitas generis, virtus proba, formaque pulcra,     Gracia, prosperitas, ingeniumque sagax: Queque decent regem, persona simul capit una -     Una, procul dubio, non nisi vestra, scio! Sed, super hec, pietas compassio veraque cordis,     Dignificans animum, vos probat esse probum. Spes etenim populi pocior fit, [u]t ad pietatem      (Qua datur hiis venia) regis et ira cadit. Significant satis hoc tabule quas cernitis iste:     Quas regi pia plebs optulit, ecce, pio. Orat ut inspiciat has, rex cum tangitur ira,     Mortis et ut Christi mox velit esse memor; Parcat et ignaris, veluti rex celicus ille, [fol. 11ra]     Hostibus indulgens, semper inultus erat. Principis est potuisse suas extendere vires     In tamen externos, quos oderit, populos. Rex et apum caret omnis acu, tamen extat eo plus     Sponte timendus ab hiis quos ferit ipse nichil! Sumat et hinc vestra manus hoc modicum modo munus,     In signum pacis quam rogat hic populus!" Extendendo manum, rex tunc sacra munera tangens.      "Pax," ait, "huic urbi, civibus atque meis! Intuitu Christi, matrisque sue generose,     Baptisteque Iohannis, michi precipui, Necnon sanctorum quorum modo cerno figuras,     Sponte remitto mee crimina cunta plebis! Sed veniatis," ait, "ad nostra palacia cuncti:     Plenus enim finis - pax quoque - fiet ibi." Rex transit; regina venit; conformia custos     Munera presentans intulit ista sibi: "Inclita Cesareo soboles propagata parente,     Quam decor et forma nobilitant nimium, Matris christifere nomen sortita Marie,     Quod titulis, Anna, 'gracia' sonat idem. Non decet hunc titulum vacuum fore, nam gerit illum     Gracia que populis nunc valet esse suis. Vos ideo meminisse decet, pia dux dominarum,     Sanguinis et generis nominis et proprii. Grata loqui pro gente sua regina valebit -     Quod vir non audet sola potest mulier. Hester ut Assueri trepidans stetit ante tribunal,     Irritat edicta que prius ipse tulit. Nec dubium quin ob hoc vos omnipotens dedit huius     Participem regni, sitis ut Hester ei. Propterea, petit urbs vestrum prostrata benignum     Auxilium, in quo plus habet ipsa spei. Donat et has vobis tabulas, altaribus aptas:     Ut stent ante deum, vos tamen ante virum. Cernitis has quociens, tociens meminisse velitis     Urbis, et efficere rex sit amicus ei." Illa refert grates nimias pro munere tanto:      "In me, si quid erit, perficietur," ait. ITUR ABHINC, CUNTIS equitantibus ordine pulcro;     Westquemonasterium, rege iubente, petunt. Quis fuit ornatus aule, quis cultus ibidem,     Scribere difficile, nec reserare leve. Nam ea textrili fuit arte domus cooperta     Tam prius insolita quod stupet intuitus. [fol. 11rb] Summa tenet summi tronus regis loca scamni,     Aurea tegmina quem splendida sola tegunt. Sceptriger hoc nitidum scandit rex, ecce, tribunal;     Circumstant proceres, moxque silere iubent. Ingreditur regina, suis comitata puellis,     Pronaque regales corruit ante pedes. Erigitur, mandante viro. "Quid," ait, "petis, Anna?     Exprime, de votis expediere tuis." "Dulcis," ait, "mi rex, michi vir, michi vis, michi vita!     Dulcis amor, sine quo vivere fit michi mors! Regibus in cuntis, similem quis possidet urbem,     Que velud hec hodie magnificaret eum? Quis cultus, quis honor, qui sumptus, munera quanta,     Sunt inpensa modo, rex venerande, tibi! Nos quoque mortales et, ut hii, velud umbra caduci     Simus in hiis mortis absit ut immemores! Quo maiorem sumit honorem, quisquis eo plus     Est humilis et erit, si sapiens fuerit. Hinc, mi rex, mi dulcis amor, memor esse velitis -     Supplico prostrata - quid modo contigerit. Tempora post Bruti regumque peracta priorum      (Quamvis et Arthurus annumeretur eis), Non fuerat cuiquam regi datus hic morituro     Tantus honor, quantum contulit ista dies. Maior enim si facta foret reverencia regi,     Tangeret iniuria publica forte deum! Hinc, super hos cives, super urbem sic reverentem,     Tam vos quam vestros, intime condoleo; Et rogo constanter, per eum quem fertis amorem     Ad me, condignum si quid amore gero, Parcere dignemini plebibus, qui tanta dedere     Munera, tam prompte nobis ad obsequia; Et placeat veteri nunc urbem reddere iuri     Ac libertates restituisse suas." "Sumo placenter," ait tunc rex, "carissima coniux,     Queque petita modo: nec nego quod rogitas. Consessura mecum scandas, dulcissima, tronum,     Namque loquar populo paucula verba meo." Sedibus ut teneros regina sedens locat artus.     Rege loquente; duces, plebs quoque, tota silet. "Vos," ait, "o cives, vos regia gens specialis,     Nostri quos aliis plus refovere patres: Vobis in hoc regno nullos fore liberiores     Constat, et extollit vos favor hic nimium. [fol. 11va] Propter opes nimias, magnos quoque propter honores,     Degenerasse potest urbs mea forte modo. Nunc ubi sunt iuste leges, ubi rectaque iura?     Quo timor in dominos? Quo modo fugit amor? Quo bona nunc pietas? Inopum proteccio grata?     Quo socialis amor? Omnis abhinc periit. Quippe potest tante fieri modo causa ruine,     Que generat fastum, tam bona prosperitas. Quod ego si scirem - sciat urbs hec, nam bene sciret -     Urbibus in reliquis non foret ista prior. Antiquus tamen ille favor, quem pristina regum     Approbat auctoritas, non minuetur adhuc, Sentit enim vestrum mea mens per signa timorem,     Vos quoque spero per hoc ad meliora trahi. Sumptus enim video vestros, data munera penso,     Coniugis atque mee pondero valde preces. Vos ideoque cavete deinceps principis iras;     Contemptu proceres non habetote meos. Antiquam servate fidem. Nova dogmata semper     Spernite, que veteres non didicere patres. Ecclesiam quoque catholicam defendite totam:     Non habet illa gradum, quin colat ipse deum. Iudicibus vestris insit timor omnipotentis;     Pauperis in causam fraus mala ne veniat; Sit et in urbe mea bona pax - contencio nulla,     Nec conventiculum federis insoliti. Si nostras etenim rumor penetraverit aures     Obvius hiis monitis, urbs luet - haud dubium! Sed modo suscipite claves, gladium quoque vestrum,     Legibus antiquis hanc regitote plebem. Antea quod licuit, liceat modo, dum tamen equm     Extiterit, solitum non variando modum. Premineat maior, electus qui regat urbem,     Regis et, ut solito, suppleat ille vices. Vos quoque, felices dulci iam pace potiti,     Pergite gaudentes ad loca quisque sua!" GAUDET AD HEC turba, prostrata ruit, iacet humo,     Acclamat laudes vocibus altisonis: "Vivat rex! Vivat semper! Vivat bene! Vivat!     Longa sit in regno sospite vita suo! Sint sibi felices anni mensesque diesque,     Floreat et victis hostibus ipse suis!" Dumque strepunt, abeunt, redeunt, regem benedicunt,     Exitus est operi terminus iste rei.

The Reconciliation of Richard II with London, by Brother Richard Maidstone In praise of friends does Tully lavish such great praise,     For, with those gone, the best of things, though good, lack worth. "In heaven you might stand and see where all is blest     And with both ears there drink in that sweet song," he says, "But all that nourishes our fivefold wits and sense     Is not a bit of good without a friend beside. If you're without a soul to share your pleasure with,     You feel that none of this has brought you any joy." So, Richard, who are joined to me by double yoke      (You share my name and symbol: we're companions), To you I'm drawn by friendship, and I long to tell     The joys I saw just recently at Trinovant; I hesitate to offer you a clumsy song:     Have pity on my fear, I beg, as love demands. TAKE M, THREE C's, and ten times nine, and then add two      (I calculate the number of the year by signs). Six times the moon had to her twin, the sun, been joined,     When happy tidings came to you, O glad New Troy. When three times seven August dawns had lit the world,     A pleasant rumor, London, spread throughout your bounds; For now you get your king again, your spouse, your lord,     Whom Wicked Tongue had taken from you by deceit. Its grudging troop had roused the king to wrath at you,     So that the groom gave up and left his marriage bed; But since your love is whole - your lover's face more fair     Than even that of Paris - he can't hate for long. And one thing more: this gentle king commiserates     With those that grieve - his hands are not avenger's hands. All England sees how many ills, how many deaths,     He's suffered from a tender age, still unavenged. What service will he offer God? He'll always be     In peace and joy, and never let the good decline. He tends the church, decreeing guidance for its ranks     Not to destroy that which our ancestors decreed. He drives away unruly, greedy, stubborn fools     And takes unto himself all that befits a king. In all the world there's no young man alive like him,     Who knows how, just like Salomon, to rule his realm. Although his anger, Troy, blazed at you for a while,     His face, now pleasing, shows that he is merciful. Detraction's biting tongue could not detain the king     From yearning to approach his marriage bed as spouse. He'd once withdrawn all of your former liberties     But now returns, quite ready to increase them more. The knight appointed by the king as London's ward     Addressed the citizens, when dawning day grew red: "Be now prepared, O Londoners, to meet your king:     Let him now see how welcome he is to you all. Let all the clergy of the church proceed in front,     And every order bear their crosses held before. Let every city guild be quite distinct, and then     On horseback cross the river in a splendid style. Let all that's good in London be displayed," he said,      "And on that day rejoice, for then will peace be yours." Emboldened by these words the company drew close,     And dressed itself in all the best array it could; Meanwhile, each city square put on its finery:     The city shone with countless gilden draperies. The city squares smelled sweet with varied scented blooms,     And purple buntings hung throughout in every home, Cloth stained with gold and white and cocchineal dye     Had here displayed a canopy with aiding skill. No tongue could tell the labors or the great expense     That Londoners had undergone before these days. But look, the day goes by, I mustn't hesitate:     All rush from town to meet the king and his young bride. Who could recount the number of that countless crowd     That flows from London, thicker than the heaven's stars? On horseback twenty thousand young men could be seen;     Of those on foot no number could contain them all. The warden goes before with twenty-four in train,     For these are London's aldermen, of noble rank. (Like Rome, the city's ruled by them, as senators,     And over them the mayor, elected by the folk.) These were arrayed in finery of red and white,     Distinguished from the rest by robes of double hue. The warden goes before, the city's keys in hand     And, too, the city's sword; the nobles walk behind, Then after this a decked-out troop from every guild.     Their suit proclaims that each one is quite separate: A goldsmith, a fishmonger, and after him     A mercer bent on trade, a seller of fine wine, A grocer, baker, painter, and a stonemason,     A knife-maker, a barber, and an armorer, A carpenter, a shearer, tailor, shoemaker,     A skinner, dyer, shopmonger, a smith as well, And here the bowmen, butchers, and the thatchers too,     The lorimers and drapers too, they came along; A sheather, girdler, were here, a weaver there,     A chandler and a waxmaker were there as well; A brewer and a stirruper, a joiner too,     As well there was a fruiterer and poulterer. Among these guilds a welcome "A" stands on an "R"      [ . . . . . . ] A glover, pursemaker, a taverner, a cook:     From each one's suit of clothes, his craft was clear to see. No one, I think, who saw these crowds, could hesitate     To say that here he saw the forms of angels stand. On such support the martial warrior relies     When he goes forth to war and fears no battle fray. There each and every guild was granted its own troop;     The route was packed along the way for four full miles. NOW SING, O citizens, now sing to greet your king!     For, see, your king is here; now sing, for he is wise! The king draws near; the noble companies pack close.     O my! How fair a sight, you'll grant, to see them all! He sat upon his snowy horse, and all pulled back     So that the people could behold their kindly king. A maiden too, her face enclosed by yellow hair,     Her tresses neatly set beneath a garland's gleam; Her red dress shines in color, brightened by the gold,     Concealing underneath her very pretty limbs. And he, so fair, like Troilus or Absolon,     Makes captive all the hearts of those that see him there. There is no need to itemize the king's good looks:     Among all kings on earth he clearly has no peer. If lavish Nature had increased his beauty more,     Then jealous Venus might have locked him in her room! He halted in the crowded fields among the hosts,     Surrounded fittingly by England's noble lords. His wife, the queen, is near with all her retinue:     Her name is Anne; I pray she may be Anne in deed. She's beautiful, with other beauties all around;     Led by such Amazons, New Troy is unsurpassed. Her dress is strewn and overspread with gleaming gems     From head to toe; there's nothing visible but gems! Carbuncle, adamant, and beryl, all are there:     Her head is overspread with every precious stone. What shines upon her face and gleams upon her ears     Assaults the viewer's gaze, and leaves it wanting more. The king pulls back the golden reins and halts his steed;     At this the people and the nobles all fall still. The warden then draws near, with aldermen in robes;     His left hand holds the keys, his right hand holds a sword, Its point toward himself. Just like a prisoner,     With woeful face, he spoke his speech as follows here: "Your majesty, whose awful power is to be feared     And also to be loved, and equally revered, Behold: your humble citizens, beneath your feet     Surrender all they have and their own selves to you. With keys and sword the city gives up willingly:     It comes all ready to surrender to your will. Suffused with tears within, it earnestly entreats     The king to enter in his room in gentleness. Let him not rend or tear apart his realm's fair walls,     For they are his, and all that still remains inside. Let not the bridegroom hate the room he's always loved;     No cause remains by which his love should be reduced." With this, he takes up London's sword and keys as well;     The king then hands both keys and sword to his own knights: "We take you in, and your surrender, willingly;     The fine display you've shown is pleasing to me too, But next I plan to see what London's doing now,     And if my people know how to accept their king." Meanwhile the warden goes, surrounded by these four     Times six companions; they stand behind the king. They come up to the queen with humble countenance,     Beseeching her, and she prays good for them in turn. Her heart loves them, but grieves that such a famous town     Had earned the royal wrath, but "Hope remains," she said. THIS DONE (AS has been said), they hasten to the town;     Guilds follow guilds in line: the first becomes the last. They keep their proper place according to their state:     Each one rejoices in its honor and its rank. They're dressed in robes of black, of purple, and of grey      (Well dyed), of green and red and scarlet too, And bi-colored; the guilds are set apart by clothes     And into companies, as fitting to their trades. One first, another next, the guilds proceed to town;     The road was scarcely big enough to hold the host! Crowd jostles crowd; one lies, one trips, one falls      [ . . . . . . . ] The music's never still: the song, the roar, and shout;     The pleasing melody strikes all the air above, While choruses of friars sing and greet the king;     He clasps the crosses to him, showing reverence. He presses them with kisses, and his wife does too     And both send prayers to God to keep and save the realm. The gloomy climate then began to breathe again,     For up to then the weather had been full of storms. It had rained so (since it was sad); and man and wife     Feared lest they be upset by such a raging storm; But when the south wind left and gentle west wind blew,     The atmosphere shone bright: the city now was calm. Outside the city lies a street where suburbs spread     Quite splendidly - its name is Southwark, "southern work." The king here meets a man, a felon, homicide,     Now banished from the realm; he bears a wooden cross. He lays himself headlong before the horses' feet     And weeping begs for pardon, which the king then grants; Thus, kindly, he bestows his kindness on this wretch,     So may the grace that he has shown be shown to him! A fine and golden crown is raised above the head     Of Anne, our queen - you can be sure it wasn't cheap! The glowing beauty of its stones enhanced this work,     And so the crown produced a wondrous gleaming light. Her face was pleasing, girt with varied necklaces;     Her country's fashion beautifies her all the more. The king draws near the bridge's pier, where stand arrayed     The citizens, two destriers, and splendid gifts. These horses' covering is purple slashed with white:     An emperor with honor would bestride these steeds! The city's chosen warden leads them to the king     And, speaking for the city's part, recites these words: "O kindly king, farsighted, peaceful, conqueror:     We seek for nothing but your peace - for this we beg! Behold your liegemen, on the outside glad, inside     Ecstatic, for this day has brought great joy for them, Since you now deign to come back to your marriage room;     The city's eager to give all the thanks it can. But since its all is not enough to give a king,     The city begs you to accept these destriers. They're given as a sign that Londoners now yield     Their bodies, riches, Pergamum, and all that's theirs. Their life and death is now to be within your hands,     And may your royal rod guide subjects at its will." The king, at this contented, said: "We too accept     These gifts with pleasure: now at last our wrath is gone. We grant our peace to those that live within these walls;     They're all my people now, and now I'll be their king." When he said this, with countenance serene and firm,     His words brought joy to thousands then enmired in gloom. They go on in this way, and when the royal bride     Stops in the way, the Warden speaks to her like this: "O noble high-born lady, born of lofty race,     Imperial in rank, renowned in family. God chose you, worthily, for Britain's sceptered rule:     You share in her broad rule, as you are fit to do. The queen is able to deflect the king's firm rule,     So he will show a gentle face to his own folk. A woman soothes a man by love: God gave him her.     O gentle Anne, let your sweet love be aimed at this! These happy people now desire to see your face,     For in it all their well-being and hope reside. Behold, they offer you a horse, and though the gift     Is less than fair, it's given with a happy heart. It's of a type to gently bear your tender limbs;     It ambles and it never stumbles in its gear. This horse is covered with a cloth of double hue     Of white and purple - so were all the others too. Now, may your ladyship accept this gift (though small):     Our company together begs you earnestly." She takes the gift, and thanks them for it gratefully,     And pledges to them all the help that she can give. Although her words were in a woman's voice and soft,     Her pleasing face, however, was the city's friend. THESE THINGS thus done, they joyfully proceed to town;     Crowd jostles crowd, for so the route compresses them. The queen came to the bridge's gate, and then good luck     Provided suddenly a new astonishment: Two carriages, packed full with ladies, followed her;     A Phaeton was their driver; one was overturned. When women thus exposed their female thighs to view,     The people scarcely could restrain a hearty laugh. So may this lucky fall's significance come true,     And lechery and lustful passion come to grief! The march proceeds; in splendor public squares shine bright:     In all the streets the singing and the cheers resound. The pretty girls look on, and they are looked at too,     For all the windows were packed full with pretty girls. Whoever in the high street saw these maidens' looks     Would scorn what's "beautiful" as though it had no worth. They pass throughout the city at a gentle pace,     For crowds of people block the route along the way. But when they reached the middle of the town, just where     The street begins that's known in English as "The Cheap," Who could describe the tapestries and tableaux there,     And all the decoration and the fine displays? For there was nothing to be seen, from top to toe,     But lavishness and faces such as angels have. An aqueduct dripped Bacchus - Tethys wasn't there! -     That potion poured a ruby drink to thousands there. On this house roof there stood a heavenly array,     Which sang angelic songs, with art's assisting aid. Gold flies around like leaves and blossoms, thick and fast,     For everywhere a maiden's hand spreads it around. They left; and when the king had reached the central square,     He saw a castle there: he stopped and was amazed. The total structure and its tower hung from ropes,     And occupied a space suspended in the air; Within the tower stood a youth in angel form,     A girl beside him, beautiful, who wore a crown. Whoever saw their forms, I think, would have no doubt     That nothing underneath the sun could please him more. The king and queen then paused, reflecting on this sight     And what the tower means and who the young ones were. They now descend, the young man and the girl as well;     There was no ladder, nor could any steps be seen. They came enwrapped in clouds, suspended in the air,     But what device was used, believe me, I don't know! The young man holds a cup; the girl extends two crowns.     The latter shine with gems; the cup is full of wine. The bright material bears witness that the crowns     Were finely fashioned out of gleaming brand new gold. The workmanship surpassed the substance, as was shown     By novel subtlety of artist and of art. The maiden then presents the warden with the crowns;     He holds them in each hand, and then he speaks these words: "O king illustrious and noble queen," he said,      "May God guard both of you and keep you safe and sound! May He, who gave you crowns of rulership on earth,     Reward you too with heaven's everlasting realms! Behold your people now, how happily they greet     You and desire to honor you, as best they can. They strive with all the effort (and the wit) they have     To give to you whatever pleases you at heart; And so they send to you, by giving these two crowns,     Their countless thanks, if you will kindly take this gift. This gift would not be right for others; but we ask     Your kindly hand now to accept it with good will." At this the king and royal bride are well content;     And, smiling slightly, each one takes their gift in turn. They smile too at the ruby wine which smiles in gold,     And which a server with an angel's face pours out. The people then took hope from each one's smiling cheek,     That by their services they'd put their minds at rest. Up unseen steps the angel and the maiden rise,     Enwrapped in clouds, and then they seek their former place. THEY HASTEN then towards the Minster of St. Paul's;     Before its doors a wondrous spectacle appears: A throne surrounded on all sides by three big rings     Portrays a likeness of angelic ordinance. To choirs of angels virgin companies are joined     And sing together, harmonizing in their song. The faces of the young shine in both these and those,     That all that see them close are utterly enthralled. The childish age of these young folk of either sex     Shows in the bigger ones all taking lower seats. Above all sat a youth, as though like God himself;     A ray of light, just like the sun, shines in this youth. He wears a flaming face and snow-white clothes as well;     He sits above the ranks of heaven's holy troops. A sound rings out; the melody enchants the mind,     When with angelic voice the choir resounds in song. It's sweet and beautiful, refreshing ear and eye:     Those seeing all these things were altogether stunned. How many kinds of music do you think there were,     And tuneful instruments of every shape and size? Pipe, citole, flute and drum and monochord were there,     And organs, psalteries, and cymbals, with the lyre, Sambukes, citerns, citoles, and trumpets, fiddles too,     Great horns and strings, and voices all in harmony. For me to write all this, both wit and time would fail:     Amazement drove so many things quite from my mind. Soon after this the king and queen went forth on foot     To pay a visit to the abbey's holy site. The primate and the city's bishop met them there;     A cleric of that church came out to greet them too. These three, in bishop's robes, escort the king and queen     Together, to the holy tomb of Erkenwald. They pray to God and to the saint they all revere;     He swiftly mounts the horse that stands before his feet. THERE'S MORE to come. They leave from here, and at Lud's gate     A similar display is shown, and just as fine. There, at the river bridge, the hosts of spirits shine,     All well decked out and dressed: and they sing sweetly too. Some sprinkle incense, others dance, and some salute,     And some spread flowers everywhere beneath their feet. Then soon they finally arrive at Temple Bar,     And there a forest had been placed atop the gate! It had, just like a desert, every kind of beast,     Including reptiles, snakes, and many other kinds. There brakes and briar-patches spread, and thorny shrubs,     An ash, a hazelbush, an oak, a lofty pear, A plum, a maple, bullace, poplar, lime and beech,     Elm, mastic-bush, and palm and quaking willow-tree; Wolf, lion, leopard, bear, and unicorn were there,     A beaver, elephant, ape, tiger, and a boar, Wild ass, swift deer, a panther, and a doe were there,     A smelly fox, a badger, and a hare as well. They run and run around, they fight and bite and leap,     As savage beasts behave in desert wilderness. Amidst them all the holy John the Baptist stood,     And pointed with his finger: "Look, the Lamb of God!" The king observed him closely, since, remembering     The saint that was portrayed, his manner grew more mild: For, since he honored him devotedly, to him     He offered prayers before all other holy saints. On seeing him, if any anger still remained,     It vanished utterly, expiring on the spot. From off the lofty roof an angel then came down,     And in each hand he carried very splendid gifts, For these were tablets, suited to an altar place:     No one who looked at these could fail to think of God. A carving was displayed of Christ upon the Cross,     A sad disciple, and a mother, quite distraught; Two thieves were sculpted too, appearing crucified:     The total sequence showed the suffering of God. The meanest and most cheap material was gold:     The work was finely dressed with gems of every kind. In all the world no tablets had been seen like these     So fittingly to suit a scepter-bearing hand. The warden took the tablets from the angel's hands     And thus in public made the speech that follows here: "Hail, father of the people! King, prince, leader, hail!     May God almighty, kindly health, keep you all the while! How splendid was that day for London's citizens,     The day when God appointed you to be their king! As father, so the son - King Richard's name repeats     His ancestor's and all the honor it entails. To good and noble kings and ancestors, his line     Was sure to correspond: faith granted what was right. Innate nobility, great bravery, good looks,     Grace and prosperity, and wit and wisdom too: All these, things that befit a king, one person holds -     One person, as I know for sure, and that is you! Above all this, your piety and empathy,     Heartfelt, which show your mind, proclaim your probity. The people's hope is greater still, when royal wrath     Subsides and turns to mercy, pardoning them all. These tablets that you see are symbols of all this:     Your faithful people give them to their faithful king. They beg the king, when touched by wrath, to look upon     These tablets and reflect upon the death of Christ; And spare the ignorant, as heaven's king once did,     Forgiving enemies, and always unavenged. A prince has power to extend his might abroad,     But just against whatever foreigners he hates. In bees the king's without a sting, but all the more     He must be feared by those he doesn't strike at all! So may your hand accept this gift, although it's small,     To signify the peace that all your people beg!" The king stretched out his hand and touched the sacred gifts.      "Let there be peace to London and my citizens!" He said. "For Christ and for His noble mother too,     For John the Baptist, my own saint and special friend, For all the saints whose figures I now contemplate,     I grant forgiveness gladly for my people's crimes! But to my palace all of you must come," he said,      "For there a final end will come - and also peace." The king passed by; the queen arrived; the warden gave     Her matching gifts and, as he did, he said these words: "Famed offspring of a father born from Caesar's line,     Ennobled greatly by your beauty and your grace, Who bears the name of Mary's mother, Mary who     Bore Christ - the name of Anna means the same as 'grace.' This name should not be meaningless, for it is hers     Who now for all her people can display her grace. You, kindly ladies' leader, ought to call to mind     Your blood and family and your own proper name. A queen can, for her people, speak the words that please -     None but a woman can do what no man would dare. When fearful Hesther stood before King Assuer's throne,     She brought to naught the edicts that the king had passed. For this, no doubt, almighty God gave you to be     A partner in this reign, a Hesther for the realm. Therefore your people's city, prostrate, begs your help     And kindness, for on these it mainly puts its hope. It gives to you these tablets, fit for altar place:     They stand in front of God, as you before your man. Whenever you see these, you'll gladly call to mind     Your city and ensure the king remains its friend." She gives her heartfelt thanks for such a splendid gift:      "Whatever's in my power," she said, "it will be done." THEN ALL depart on horseback in their fine array;     And, at the king's command, to Westminster they go. The decoration of the hall and its array     Would be no easy task to tell or to unfold. The house was overspread with all the weaver's skill;     The gaze was stunned at such an unaccustomed sight. The royal throne has pride of place upon the dais,     Bedecked with coverings of nothing but fine gold. The scepter-wielding king then mounts the gleaming throne;     The nobles stand there, urging silence on the crowd. The queen comes in, accompanied by all her maids,     And falls, bowed down, prostrate, before the royal feet. At his command she stands. "What, Anna, do you seek?"     He asks. "Just speak, and your desires will be met." "Sweet king of mine," she said, "my man, my strength, my life!     Sweet love, without whom life to me would be like death! What king on earth rules such a city that, like this     Today, would honor him and magnify his name? What worship, honor, what expense, what splendid gifts     Have just today, most honored king, been spent on you! We too, like these, are mortal, fleeting like a shade:     May God forbid that we should give no thought to death! The greater honor one receives, if he is wise,     The more humility he has and always shall. And so, my king, my sweetest love, please keep in mind -     I beg you on my knees - what has just happened here. Since Brutus' days and those of ancient kings      (If even Arthur were included in their ranks), Such honor never has been shown to mortal king     As has, this day, been granted and conferred on you. If greater reverence were shown towards the king,     The public wrong, perhaps, would trouble God himself! Thus, for these citizens, for this respectful town,     For you yourself and yours, I feel the deepest grief And beg you earnestly, by that love that you have     For me, if I do anything to earn your love, Please deign to spare these people, who have given you     Such gifts, so readily, in service to us both; And please restore the city to its ancient rights     And give it back at last its former liberties." "My dearest wife," the king said then, "I gladly take     To heart what you have asked: I won't deny your boon. Come up, my sweetest, to the throne and sit with me,     For to my people I must speak a word or two." The queen then placed her tender limbs upon the seat.     The king began; the nobles and the folk fell still. "O citizens, my people, special to the king,     On whom my ancestors bestowed especial care: It's sure that in this realm none more than you enjoyed     Such liberties, our favor raised you up so high. From such prosperity, and splendid honors too,     My city might, perhaps, be now degenerate. Where now are laws and edicts that are fair and just?     What has become of fear of lords? Where has love fled? Where now is piety? Protection of the poor?     Where is its loving friendship? All has passed away. The cause of such a recent fall perhaps might be     This great prosperity, which is a sense of pride. If I know this - let London know, for so it would -     It would not be the first among all other towns. Yet ancient favor, which antique authority     Of kings approves, will not now be decreased as yet, For in my mind, from all these signs, I feel your fear     And hope that thus you are now drawn to better things. I see what you have spent; I weigh the gifts you've made     And also take account of pleadings from my wife. So, citizens, henceforth beware the prince's wrath;     Don't scorn or hold my lords and nobles in contempt. Observe the ancient law. Reject for evermore     New doctrines that the ancient fathers did not learn. Also defend and guard the total catholic church:     It has no sacred rank that does not worship God. Let all your judges hold the Lord in awe;     Let no misuse or fraudulence afflict the poor; And in my city let there be fair peace - not strife,     And no newfangled gatherings in novel leagues. If any news should reach me that conflicts with this     Advice, the city will regret it - mark my words! But now take back your keys, receive your sword again,     And henceforth rule this people by your ancient laws. What was before allowed, is now allowed again,     As long as it is fair, not straying from the norm. A chosen mayor should be above, to rule the town,     And, as is usual, to act the role of king. You too, now blest (since you have won the peace you sought),     Go joyfully, each one, returning to your homes!" AT THIS THE crowd rejoice and fall prostrate and lie     On earth, and sing out praise in voices to the skies: "Long live the king, live long, live safe and well, long live the king!     Long may he reign, and may his realm be well! May all his years and months and days be blessed ones,     And may he flourish, quelling all his enemies!" And while they shout and come and go and bless the king,     The end of this affair brings closure to this work.

(see note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note); (t-note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note); (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note); (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (t-note) (see note); (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) (see note); (t-note) (see note) (see note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (t-note)