Classic Poem

A storie of kynge Edwarde the iij de hys ordynaunce for Bretayne.

Here brynge I in a storye to me lente,
What a goode squyere in tyme of parlemente,
Toke unto me welle wretene in a scrowe,
That I have comonde bothe wyth hygh and lowe,
Of whyche all mene accordene in to one,
That hit was done not monye yeris agone,
But when noble kynge Edwarde the therde
Regned in grace, ryght thus hit betyde.
Ffor he hadde a manere gelozye
To hys marchauntes, and lowede hem hartelye.
He felde the weyes to reule well the see,
Whereby marchauntes myght have prosperite,
That fro Harflewe and Houndflewe dyd he makene,
And grete werres that tyme were undertakene
Betwyx the kynge and the duke of Bretayne;
At laste to falle to pease bothe were they feyne.
Upon the whyche, made by convencioun,
Oure marchaundys made hem redy boune
Towarde Bretayne to lede here marchaundye,
Wenynge hem frendes, and wente forthe boldelye.
But sone anone oure marchaundes were itake,
And wee spede nevere the bettere for treuse sake.
They loste here goode, here mone, and spendynge;
But there compleynte come unto the kynge.
Then wex he wrothe, and to the duke he sente,
And compleyned that such harme was hente
By convencioun, and pease made so refused.
Whiche duke sent ageyne, and hym excused,
Rehersynge that the mounte of Seynte Michele
And Seynt Malouse wolde never a dele
By subject unto his governaunce,
Ner be undere hys obeysaunce;
And so they did withowten hym that dede.
But whan the kynge anone had takene hede,
He in his herte set a jugemente,
Wythoute callynge of ony parlemente,
Or grete tary to take longe avyse,
To fortefye anone he dyd devyse
Of Englysshe townes iij., that is to seye
Derthmouth, Plymmouthe, the third it is Ffoweye,
And gaffe hem helpe and notable puissance,
Wyth insistence set them in governaunce
Upon Pety Bretayn for to werre.
That gode see-menne wolde no more deferre,
But bete theme home, and made they myght not route,
Tooke prysoners, and lernyd hem for to loutte.
And efte the duke an ensample wysse
Wrote to the kynge, as he ffyrste dyd dewysse,
Hym excusynge; but oure meny wode
Wyth grete poure passed overe the ffloode,
And verrie forth into the dukes londe,
And had neygh destrued free and bonde.
But than the duke knewe that the townes thre
Shulde have loste all hys natale cuntree,
Undertoke by sewrte trewe, not false,
Ffor Mount Mychelle and Seinte Malouse als,
And othere partees of the Lytelle Bretaynne,
Whych to obeye, as seyde was, were nott fayne,
The duke hym selfe for all dyd undertake,
Wyth all hys herte a full pease dyd he make.
So that in all the lyffe tyme of the kynge
Marchaundes hadde pease wythowtene werrynge.
He made a statute for Lumbardes in thys londe,
That they shulde in no wysse take one honde
Here to enhabite, here to charge and to dyscharge,
Butt xl. dayes, nomore tyme had they large.
Thys good kynge, be wytt of suche appreffe,
Kepte hys marchauntes and the see fro myscheffe.