mere_de_vii (mere_de_vii) wrote,

Boke II

O mightye dung!!! Whan laste wrote me of the tale on how thynges fell witte nobles atte Tower, soddenly I discerned, that betwixt Constaunze and me there weren XI: Ich, Constaunze, Henry, Thomas Tweye, Joane, and Kateline. WHERE IN GODDES NAME BE MY SONNE JOHNE??? I mote have losten him atte Tower and seen hit nat! Goddes dignitee, how should I have losten myn eldest sonne with Johne and ne woten for a weke!? I shoulde loke, but I be nat in Londoun ynow, I am yjournee with a band of lewd folke who toke pitee to bring me North in her carte. O gentil rederes! – be ye gode and charitable men, kepen vigilaunt for my sonne, Johne Beaufort!
He is X yeres elde, with faire countenaunce as doth his name telle, paillid as the moone and hayre golden as the sunne, with a mightye a stomach for wine as you shall evere see of a X yere elde.

O, how agful me feleth! I toorned my childerenes overe to folkes I knowe but lite, but for Johne whom I gesse I did nat! Then I fleyed the Tower, and renne thurgh the villaines and rebeles to seken my suster at Aldgate. Ich, a noble woman conveyed al one in swych perile, I neded skriek “I be in troth but a servaunt!” and cast aboute my jeweles in the route to maken distracte of the folke. By Aldgate I was baren of jeweles, pinnes, and neare stryppened myself to my schrit forto misleden hem, but that might have merely maden an othir attencioun I woulde nat, so resisted.
I founde my susteres roumes and wenten the doore, beted and skrieked as some deville megesseth. Out renne Philippe, with a sword of Geffreyes, and swangen hit at me! Certes, were she ne woman with crappe aim, I should be deed ynow! Once that she knewe me she toke me within, and made a wall before the doore with setes and tables and bokes, and Gefrey gan tellen hir nat to usen the bokes in swych wise, and she toold him to shutten his lippes and watche the windwe. He guarded oone, Thomas, hir sonne, an othir, and litel Lewis was armed with manye daggres in the neightest roum with his mower litel suster Agnis. Philippe and me coked mete for hem alle, so should hem haven no nede forto goon from hir appointementes. I spoke of my miserye, and Philippe quod that hit was alle for that the churles and villains haten my Johne, for thinken hem that he be riche from takinge taxes and nat from cautious investement and because lady Blanches fathir, may she and he be in pes, was swiving riche and my Johne got hit alles whan she was deed.
I wayted with Philippe for II dayes, until we herde that Kinge Richard had gone to the rebeles and had these wordes:

CHIEF REBELE: Wele, King, seest thou here alle thyse menne?
KING RICHARD: Aye... ummm, forwhy?
CHIEF REBELE: For that I haven hem alle undre myn own commaunt, and haven hem alle given holy troth to doon any thinge I saye for hem.
KING RICHARD: Thatte is cool we gessen, huh huh huh.

Then Gode be praised, chere Wil Walworth renne out and quelled the rebele chief. Then Richard daunced aboute and sayed to the villains:

KING RICHARD: We are king! So you shoult doon whatever we saye, and go wey.
WIL WALWORTH: Yis, there be an armee of reenforcementes ycomming shortlye.
And syn thyse were pesaunts estupides who revolted because some tailor or tile-makkir toold hem, they all wente.
But there was ne jollitye for me none. Al I could was how my hoome in Londoun in gone, and my childeren are lost and stelen, and my Johne is farre away in Scotteland and might knowe nothinnge of hit any!

And so I sayed, “I shall finde my Johne!” and Philippe sayed, “Yis, go away from her, I will nat have villain to burnen the home ydoun,” so she gave to me some money and a hately gown forto kepe me sobtle, and so I am ynow, ywandre.

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