137r]    5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 138r] 46 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 130 135 140 138v] 145 150 155 160 165 170

¶ Dieu, roy de magesté,    Ob Personas Trinas, Nostre roy e sa meyné    Ne perire sinas! Grantz mals ly fist aver    Gravesque ruinas — Celi qe ly fist passer    Partes transmarinas.       Rex ut salvetur,       Falsis maledictio detur! Roy ne doit, a feore de gere,    Extra regnum ire, For si la commune de sa terre    Velint consentire. Par tresoun, voit honme sovent    Quam plures perire. A quy en fier seurement    Nemo potest scire.       Non est ex regno       Rex sine consilio. Ore court en Engletere    De anno in annum Le quinzyme dener pur fere,    Sic commune dampnum. E fet avaler que soleyent    Sedere super scannum, E vendre fet commune gent    Vaccas, vas, et pannum.       Non placet ad summum,       Quindenum, sic, dare nummum.      Une chose est countre foy    Unde gens gravatur: Que la meyté ne vient al roy    In regno quod levatur! Pur ce qu’il n’ad tot l’enter    Prout sibi datur, La pueple doit le plus doner,    Et sic sincopatur.       Nam que taxantur       Regi non omnia dantur. Unquore plus greve a simple gent    Collectio lanarum. Que vendre fet, communement,    Divicias earum. Ne puet estre que tiel consail    Constat Deo carum, Issi destrure le poverail    Pondus per amarum!       Non est lex sana       Quod regi sit mea lana! Uncore est plus outre peis,    Ut testantur gentes, En le sac deus per ou treis    Per vim retinentes. A quy remeindra cele leyne?    Quidam respondentes Que ja n’avera roy ne reygne,    Set tantum colligentes.       Pondus lanarum       Tam falsum constat amarum! Depus que le roy vodera    Tam multum cepisse, Entre les riches si purra    Satis invenisse. E plus, a ce que m’est avys,    Et melius fecisse Des grantz partie aver pris,    Et parvis pepercisse.       Qui capit argentum,       Sine causa, peccat egentum. Honme ne doit a roy retter    Talem pravitatem, Mes al maveis consiler    Per ferocitatem. Le roy est jeovene bachiler,    Nec habet etatem Nulle malice compasser,    Set omnem probitatem.       Consilium tale       Dampnum confert generale. Rien greve les grantz graunter    Regi sic tributum; Les simples deyvent tot doner,    Contra Dei nutum. Cest consail n’est mye bien,    Sed viciis pollutum. Ceux que grauntent ne paient rien    Est male constitutum.       Nam concedentes       Nil dant regi, set egentes. Coment fra honme bon espleit    Ex pauperum sudore, Que les riches esparnyer deit    Dono vel favore? Des grantz um le dust lever,    Dei pro timore, Le pueple plus esparnyer    Que vivit in dolore.       Qui satis es dives,       Non sic ex paupere vives! Je voy en siecle qu’ore court    Gentes superbire, D’autre biens tenir grant court,    Quod cito vult transire. Quant vendra le haut juggement,    Magna dies ire, S’il ne facent amendement,    Tunc debent perire.       Rex dicit reprobis,       “Ite.” “Venite,” probis. Dieu, que fustes coronee    Cum acuta spina, De vostre pueple eiez pitee,    Gratia divina. Que le siecle soit aleggee    De tali ruina. A dire grosse veritee,    Est quasi rapina.       Res inopum capita       Nisi gratis est quasi rapta. Tel tribut a nul feor    Diu nequit durare. De voyde qy puet doner,    Vel manibus tractare? Gentz sunt a tiel meschief    Quod nequeunt plus dare; Je me doute, s’ils ussent chief,    Quod vellent levare.       Sepe facit stultas       Gentes vacuata facultas. Yl y a tant escarceté    Monete inter gentes Qe honme puet en marché,    Quam parci sunt ementes (Tot eyt honme drap ou blee,    Porcos vel bidentes), Rien lever, en verité,    Tam multi sunt engentes.       Gens non est leta       Cum sit tam parca moneta. Si le roy freyt moun consail,    Tunc vellem laudare: D’argent prendre le vessel,    Monetamque parare. Mieu valdreit de fust manger    Pro victu nummos dare, Qe d’argent le cors servyr    Et lignum pacare.       Est vicii signum       Pro victu solvere lignum! Lur commissiouns sunt tro chiers    Qui sunt ultra mare; Ore lur terres n’ount povers    Eosdem sustentare. Je ne say coment purrount    Animas salvare, Que d’autrui vivre voderount    Et propria servare.       Non dubitant penas       Cupientes res alienas. Dieu, pur soun seintime noun,    Confundat errores, E ceux que pensent fere tresoun,    Et pacis turbatores! E vengaunce en facez    Ad tales vexatores, E confermez e grantez    Inter reges amores!       Perdat solamen       Qui pacem destruit!          Amen.

¶ God, king of majesty,    For the sake of the Triune Persons, May our king and his household    Not perish! He caused him to suffer great harm    And grievous ruin — That one who made him travel    Over the sea.       That the king prosper,       May false ones be accursed! A king should not, in a warlike way,    Depart from his realm, Unless the commons of his land    Wish to consent. On account of treason, one often sees    Many perish. He in whom one can trust securely    No one can know.       May the king not leave his realm       Without good counsel. Now proceeds in England    From year to year The tax of the fifteenth penny,    Thus inflicting a common harm. And it brings down those wont    To sit upon the bench, And it forces common folk to sell    Cows, utensils, and clothing.       Most unpleasant is it,       Therefore, to pay the entire fifteenth. There is a thing contrary to faith    By which people are oppressed: To the king comes not half    Of what’s raised in the realm! Since he doesn’t receive the whole    As it’s granted to him, The people must pay more,    And thus they’re cut short.       For the taxes that are raised       Are not all given to the king. Still more oppressive for simple folk    Is the wool collection. Commonly, it forces them to sell    Their valuables. It cannot be that such a policy    Is pleasing to God, Thus to crush the poor    Under a bitter burden!       It is no just law       That gives my wool to the king! It is of still greater weight,    As people bear witness, That from the sack two or three measures    Are retained by force. By whom will this wool be taken?    Some respond That neither king nor realm will have it,    But only the wool collectors.       Such a false weight of wool       Constitutes a bitter thing! Since the king wants    To take so much, Among the rich he may thus    Find enough. And besides, in my opinion,    He would do better To have taken a portion from the great,    And have spared the lowly.       He who, without cause, takes money       From the needy commits sin. One ought not to the king    Assign such depravity, But to an evil counselor    In his savagery. The king is a young man,    And is not of an age To devise any malice,    But possesses all honesty.       Such a policy       Confers general harm. It doesn’t oppress the great at all    To thus yield tribute to the king; The simple have to give all,    Contrary to God’s will. This policy is not good at all,    But is sullied with vice. For those tax-makers to pay nothing    Is wrongly ordained.       For the policy-makers       Give nothing to the king, only the needy. How may one bring forth good    From the sweat of the poor, One who’s obliged to spare the rich    On account of gift or favor? One ought to levy the tax upon the great,    In fear of God, To spare more the people    Who live in affliction.       You who are rich enough,       Live not thus upon the poor! I see at the present time    How people grow prideful, Holding great pomp with others' goods,    Which will briefly pass away. When comes the Last Judgment,    That great day of wrath, Unless they mend their ways,    They must then perish.       The king says to the unrighteous,       “Go.” “Come,” to the righteous. God, who was crowned    With sharp thorns, Have mercy on your people,    With heavenly grace. May the world be spared    From such calamity. To tell the plain truth,    It is just like stealing.       Taking goods from the poor against their will       Is the same as if it were stolen. Such tribute can by no means    Last for long. Who can give from emptiness,    Or touch it with his hands? People are in such bad straits    That they cannot give more; I fear that, had they a leader,    They would rise in rebellion.       Often people turn foolish       From loss of possessions. There is so much scarcity    Of money among people That at market one is able,    Because buyers are so few (For all the cloth or corn one might have,    Pigs or sheep), To gain nothing, in truth,    For so many are needy.       The people are not happy       When money is so scarce. Were the king to heed my advice,    Then I would praise him: Take the vessels of silver,    And make money with them. Better would it be to eat off wood    And pay in coin for food, Than to serve the body with silver    And pay with wood.       It is a sign of vice       To pay for food with wood! The maintenance is too costly    For those who are across the sea; Now their lands haven’t the power    To sustain them. I don’t know how they’ll be able    To save their souls, Those who would live on others    And preserve what’s their own.       They fear no penalties       In coveting others’ things. May God, for his most holy name,    Confound errant ones, And those who plan to do treason,    And disturbers of the peace! And may you take vengeance    On such oppressors, And confirm and grant    Love between kings!       May he lose consolation       Who destroys the peace!          Amen.

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