vendredi, juin 30, 2006

Travel, tales, and a geste-bloggeresse

Ich do humblie begge yower pardoun, gentil rederes. Bisynesse in Kente hath been nippinge aboute myn heeles lyk vnto a wolfe or a beare, and thus ther beth but litel tyme for my blogge. Beinge a justice of the pees ys a real fulle-time deale, especiallye syn but fewe of the magnates on the commissioun do evir bother to showe uppe. And Philippe ys on me aboute payntynge the porche -- yt is a contree hous, ich telle her, nat the seynte chapelle! but she recketh naught of my opinioun. And nowe, by Seynte Elmo, ich haue lernede that ich muste travel to Italye on bisynesse for King Richarde, so ich shalle be ferre from my blogge and my emayle for a ful weeke (see more at thende of this pooste).

Al the mene while, Ich continue to write of the Tales of Canterburye, which drafte doth come alonge verye slowlie. To sette up the stories, ich am writinge a ‘general prologue’ in which ich do telle of alle of the pilgrimes and ther lyves, and ich do liste al of the grete estates of societee. Alas, thogh, for toile and labour! For ich did nat devise how manye pilgrimes or of what maner, and now sum do nat ‘fitte in’ to the reste, so ich muste cut hem out. Ich shal liste a fewe of hem for yow, my gentil rederes – peraventure thes kan be putte yn to the ‘speciale edition’ of the tales when they aren publisshede on dvd.

General Prologue Outtakes:

A PROFESSIR was there, yn clothes of grey
The whiche she boughte laste yeere for MLA.
Ful seuene yeere at grad schoole she had laboured
And yet ful litel Fortune hadde hir favoured;
For everie tale of hires was ‘welawey,’
And ‘publishe soone ich muste or elles deye.’
The scole she taughte at was ferre down the roade
And eek she hadde, ich trowe, a V-V loade.


A CLOWN ther was, and he wore yellow hose
Ful white weren his chekes and redde hys nose
Lyk to a Kennedye in elder yeeres.
A horn he honkede right loude for to heere
An rode vpon an vnicycle faste
No man on horse haue ich sene make such haste
As thys performere dide vpon oon whele.
And yet, me wondrid at the childrene fele
That dide cry ‘no’ and ‘welawey’ at hym
For whanne he wolde a tricke or jape begin
No childe wolde staye to spyen out yts ende.
Trewelye, no gentil was this Clownes frende:
Why feere they swich a man wyth paynted face
Who of baloones doth portraye every race
Of animals, and offreth cakes and jellie?
Certes, he beth less fearsome than R. Kelly.


Did marche togedir in fraternitee
Al thogh thei were of varyinge lyveree.
Thei knewe sum auncient magicke remedye
For “Y M C A” dide they ful loude crye,
And lifte ther armes lyk vnto menne gone woode.
And eek yt semede their mappe was nat too goode:
Thogh Canterburye-warde we headede Est
In unison thei seyde to us ‘Go Weste.’


Al thogh ich muste to Italye, ich haue nat forgotten to make preparaciouns for my blogge. My suster-in-lawe, the most gentil Katherine de Swynforde, lyk a trewe and goode womman hath agreed to ‘guest-blogge’ the while ich am aweye. Ich truste that ye shalle enjoye redynge of her poostes. (Thos fannes of the Parys interviewe who craue more tales of high societee and noble lordes shal be right gladde to knowe that Katherine doth moue in verye riche and noble circles, far aboue any of my associacioun). O, ich do soore feare that ye shal come to prefer my guest-blogger to myn owene selfe, so clevir ys my suster-in-lawe.

And whanne ich do returne from the kinges businesse, ich kan promise yow sum more interviewes. This time the interviewes shal be nat simplie wyth nobles passinge thurgh Kente, but wyth men and wommen of the internet, and thos who make swete music and verse. (Yf thou art a notable person and wolde be interviewede be me, simplye emayle me at

May the dayes of somer be sweete for yow alle. Ere Seynt Swithun's daye ye shall heare of me ayein.

post scriptum: So fewe of yow haue respondede to the photographie contest that ich do wondere, do ye alle have secret identiteez to protecte? Or peraventure manye of yow are strikkene wyth the plighte of leprosie and are thus skittishe aboute shewinge yowerselves? Or it mighte haue been juste a bad idee on my parte. The defaulte winneres shal be announcid in August, so if ye wisshe to enter, ye still have tyme, and yower submissiouns wolde bringe muche joye to me.

vendredi, juin 23, 2006

She's yonge, she's sexie, she's riche: Interviewe wyth Parys

Philippa hath pleadede for manye a daye that ich fynde a waye to brynge in more cash. The house in Kente ys trewelye a ‘fixere-uppere’ and a growthe spurte semeth to haue ycome to litel Lowys, for he devoureth al the mete and drinke so that the reste of my meynee kan scarce fynde a morsel or a droppe. The office of Justice of the Pees is right honourable, but it bringeth in litel or no income.

Ich haue alwey thoghte myself to be a writer, so ich shal attempte to take on sum freelaunce worke. Syn ich do knowe manye a noble lord and ladye, ich shal write articles for chronicles of societee and fashioun. Here ys my firste attempte. A fayre ladye of courte dide journeye to Kente with her retinue, and Philippa managid to score me sum interviewe tyme. May it plese ye gentil folke to correcte eny mistakes heere, and then ich shalle sende it off to ‘mademoiselle’ or ‘vogue’ or peraventure ‘puple’...

PARYS LAUNCECRONA nedeth nat an introduccioun to gentil folke – but ye churles who lyve in smal holes and knowe nat of societee, knowe that Parys beth the daughter of an riche stewarde and hosteler of Boheme, who dide yplace her yn the courte of Anne of Bohemia. Syn gode Queene Anne hath come to Englande to wedde Kyng Richarde, Parys hath ben the talke of Londoun. The merchant Nichol Brembre hath seyde that ‘a feeste withoute Paris ys lyk a Lombard wythout redy cash.’ And the very paragon of fashion Michael de la Pole did recentlie remarke: ‘Yt maketh litel difference if we winne Fraunce, for mooste of vs haue alredy taken Parys.’ The croniclez do reporte that she hath been sene ycanoodlinge with no lessere a lemman than Robert de Vere, the hippe, yonge favourite of Kyng Richarde and of late the Marquis of Ireland (and eek, o scandale! a man yweddede to a grand-dogther of grete King Edward).

Galfridus Chaucer: Thou waitest upon-

Parys Launcecrona: Ye –

GC: Ich do begge pardon. Ye waite upon Gode Queene Anne, yet ye do manye othir projectes. How wolde ye descriven yower crafte and place in societee?

PL: ‘Tis harde to saye. Lyk, ich am a woman of businesse, ich am an actresse, ich do inspyre men of chivalrie to noble deedes, ich do founde chantries ful of preestes who praye for the soule of my chihuahua who of late did perisshe.

GC: Telle me aboute a daye yn the lyfe of Parys Launcecrona.

PL: Ywis, Y do rise from my bowere and do washe myn selfe, and then, lyk, Y throwe the watir doun to the strete for to coole the browes of poore men and labourers. For Y am lyk alle aboute the charitee. Then Y do haue meetynges. Y do pose for peyntures for advertisementes or woodcuttes for croniclez, or Y do planne the newe seson for my showe of televisione...

GC: ‘The Lyf Symple?’

PL: The same. This seson we shalle go to a poore village the which hath had manye a yeere of dearth. And oure retinue shal lyk buye uppe al of ther beestes and corne that yet remayne, and we shal feaste vs fyne and passinge wel vpon those provisounes, and thenne we shalle mock the peasantz for their churlishe wayes as al the while hunger and nede do dryve them to desperacioun. We shal lyk make manye japes and jokes about the rough and foule visages of the peasantz, the whiche do shewe that thes churlez aren descendid from the lessir son of Noah and aren righftulli oure servaunts and we rightfulli the maysters. And yt shal be a rockinge good tyme wyth bikinis and sum hotte fashiones and mowre cleavage than thou kanst shoot a trebuchet at.

GC: And wher shal thys seson be yfilmed?

PL: The laste two seasonses we haue done yn Engelonde, but this oon shal be in Somerset.

GC: Do ye rede of the broadsheetes and the chroniclez to see what ys written of yow?

PL: Sum tyme if a chronicle hath an illuminacioun, Y wil chekke it oute to see how cute Y looke. But mooste of that writynge ys so smal and hard to rede. Thes clerkes and writeres and makeres of poesie aren such losers. Y do haue much hatrede in my herte for thos folke who lyk sitte as stoones lyk al daye and al nighte for to write of riche and noble lyves that thei shal nevir haue. Thei aren alle probablie custoum house officiales or sum thynge!

GC: Do ye rede of blogges?

PL: Y do nat wante to get too close or Y mighte falle in.

GC: Whate saye ye?

PL: Y do not wante to falle in the blogge. Also, blogges smelle nastie. And ful oft ther ys sum Pict at the bottom of the blogge who is all lyk mummifiede.

GC: What occupacioun dide ye dreme of whanne ye were a yonge girle?

PL: Saynte. Kanst thou beleve yt? Y totallye wantede to be a saynte. But thenne Y dide discouer that seyntez aren supposid to yive up the worlde and to spende their lives in werkes of devocioun and charitee. And so Y thoghte: ‘that sucketh’ and Y decidede to be riche insteade. So nowe Y haue bought manye a beggare, who Y do feede at my cost, and eftimes Y do commaunde them to thanke and prayse me so that Y feele lyk a seynte - but Y kan yet swyve and drynke depe of wyn and snorte the poudre of cockayne, the whiche no Seyntez do. For telle me, litel man, who beth the patron seynt of cocayne?

GC: Ther beth none, my ladye.

PL: Exactemundo, Jeffie.

GC: Nowe ich am goynge to seye a fewe wordes, and yf it plese ye, ye maye responde wyth the firste thynge that cometh yn to yower hede whanne ye heare the worde that ich saye.

PL: Okaye, go for yt.

GC: The Black Deeth?

PL: Bad skin. Lyk, thank Godde they dye bifor it gets worse.

GC: Chivalrie?

PL: Hotte dudes killinge ech othir.

GC: Kyng Richarde?

PL: Y wolde kille to haue hys makeup artiste.

GC: Professirs of literature?

PL: Vntil they owene up to havynge no ethical use, ich shal nat respecte them.

GC: Confessioun?

PL: Hotness. My friare-confessour is sooo hotte. Lyk, he beth so hotte that thou nedest to put fowere of the letter t in ‘hotttte.’ Nay, more. Adam Pinkhurste kan nat make a fancie-enow lookynge ‘t’ to convey the temperature of thys franciscan. Caxton hath not t’s enow in hys case of lettres to shewe how hot this friare ys. His in principio is insayne! O, pardon! Ich was so distractede. Ich lyk totallie lost myselfe. Hastow anothir worde for me, man?

GC: Nay, me thinketh that ys good enogh. Nevir in this interview haue ye been more wel spokene than yn this descrivynge of yower confessour. Now ich wolde aske of yower grete fame. Manye a yonge ladye both noble born and lowe doth stryve to emulate yow in dresse and manner, and manye a yonge manne of all estates doth wisshe ferventlye that yow were hys paramour. Why are ye so popular? What do ye thynke ys yower appeale?

PL: Y am lyk a princesse.

GC: And yet with al respecte, thou –

PL: Ye.

GC: Ye come nat of blood royale...

PL: Silence, churl! Thinkstow that hath eny bearynge? Yt ys all aboute whate peple weare and who they knowe. Ther aren no divisions eny more. Hastow nat rede that tradiciounal feudal bondes aren breakynge doun yn to a cashe economy? It usid to be lyk ‘those who pray, those who fight, and those who werke’ – but nowe yt ys lyk, ‘those who werke...and me.’

(at this tyme two large knightez of Paryses retinue dide haule me off by my shouldres. rederes kan offir sum solace for my bruised armes by sendynge in entries for the photographie conteste)

mercredi, juin 21, 2006

anothir linke

Ywis, this radio programme doth provide a fine and gentil introduccioun to my lyf, my language, and the nature of my writynges. It maketh no mencioun of the Ocks Menne or of Mount Dorse-Quasse, thogh, for scolers kan nat knowe everythynge.

(ye muste clikke vpon 'listen to program' to heere the recordede programme)

mardi, juin 20, 2006

"the swyving stays"

A playe of myn werkes ys too hotte for friares in Spayne. Was yt the fartynge that dide scare them, or was yt the fact that yt was a friare who was yfarted vpon?

jeudi, juin 15, 2006

The Ocks Menne

O THE SWETE DAYES of somer are wel vpon us nowe, and longen foolke to heare of superheroes, and storyes of aventure, of menne and womene wyth capes and funnye maskes who haue poweres. Ywis, ich do awaite with grete anticipacioun the openynge daye of ‘Super-manne Returneth,’ and ich was blowene awey to heare that ther shalle be IV (counte hem! IV!) villaines yn the newe filme of the Spidere-Manne.

And thus ich haue sette aboute creatynge myn owene superheroes. Yt ys ful plesaunte to sitte and thynke of tales of marvelles al the while reclyngge in an adirondacke chayre yn myn Kentishe garden wyth the juyce of mojito. In but a fewe dayes ich haue createde enogh storyes of superhero to fille manye a graphic nouele, feature filme or eek tie-in video game.

Peraventure, oones ich do complete the Tales of Canterburye, ich shalle sette aboute enditynge the noble tale of...

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Noble heroes from al estates of the kyngdom aren broughte togedir by Professir William of Ockham, yclepede PROFESSIR OCKS, who beth confynede to a wheelchayre syn that daye longe agoon when he dide soore wounde hym selfe wyth a deadlie razor of hys owene makynge. He doth seeke oute folke wyth speciale poweres of magicke, who shal kepe reson and justice in the reaume. Thei do fighte ayeinst the evil JOHANNES GOWERE (who hath no powere othere than to produce boredom, the whiche ys dedely enogh).

Ich presente to yow, the Ocks Menne:

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‘THE PERLE MAYDEN’: Thys ghoostlye spirite of a yonge girle weareth a comeleye garmente alle of perlez. She hath the powere to kepe eny manne engagede yn difficulte and intricatlie rhymynge spirituale discussion for seuerale dayes on ende.

‘THE COMMUNE VOYS’: Thys right large manne hath an necke ymaad of iren and steele, the whiche kan be nat struck by no wepne. Beynge immune to beheadynge, he ys the onlie manne who hath no feare of speakynge the truthe yn parlement. Yn episode XII, Johannes Gowere doth trye to appropriate ‘The Commune Voys’ but ys defeatede by his owene inherente elitisme.

PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN: Piers the Ploughman hath litel memorie of his birthe and rearynge, for he was the subjecte of a toppe-secret governmente experimente, the ‘PLOUGHMAN X’ programme. Chancerye dide turne Pieres yn to the perfecte ploughman, to replace those who dide perisshe yn the grete pestilence. Thei dide putte plowes yn Peres’s handes, and dide yive hym the powir of regeneracioun yn caas he be ytrodden vpon by the oxene of the feeldes. Pieres made hys escape, and nowe doth labore on hys ploughe for us alle and showe us the waye of pilgrimage to truthe. Hys motto: “Ich am the beste ther ys at what ich do, and what ich do ich do for commun profit and the loue of Christ. Also ich kicke ass.”

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BEVIS OF HAMTON : Bevis of Hamton ys a mighti knighte, thogh he speketh nat yn the maner of gentil folke.

’PICATRIX’: Thys crafty Saracen magician doth come from Spayne. He ys mayster of magicke of the sterres. Wyth no thyng more than the kidneyes of a wolfe and a smalle figure of two toades jumpynge, he kan create enmitee bitwene thos who oones were freendes. He kan eek remoeve grisly rokkes blakke that hinder shippes from the see, and oft doth so to winne the loue of ladyes.

’THE HUMAN ABACUS’: Thys manne hath an abacus for an heede, and thus ys ful skillede at summes of nombres and calculaciouns. He knoweth the date of Easter for the nexte MMMM yeeres. He kan do the woole custoume accountes yn oon halfe of oon seconde, and thus his mariage ys ful blisful for he beth nat ycalled a ‘workaholic.’ The Human Abacus was an normal manne lyk thou or ich, but thenne oon daye he was ybit by an radioactive abacus.

’ANONYMOUS’: Trewelye a thynge of fayerye, Anonymous ys sum tyme a manne, and sum tyme a woman, and eek sum tyme a large masse of peple – in the laste of those similitudes Anonymous doth brynge forthe large-scale sociale and politicale innovaciouns withoute leavynge eny trace. Whanne not y-fightynge euil, Anonymous writeth a grete dele of poetrie.

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‘THE RECLUSE’: Thys braue ladye kan nat be harmede for she ys wallede uppe yn a churche wyth no exit and onlie a smalle windowe out of whiche to looke and dispense spirituale counsel. Yn episode XLII, Gower shalle trye to deprive her of supplies of foode and watir for to slaye her, but the jape shal be on hym: she ys ful accousomede to fastynge for the grete sorwe and devocioun she hath to oure lorde.

THE YONGE MAGICALE BOWMEN FROGGES: Thes IV frogges dide swimme yn the streme nere an alchesmistes hous and thus touched by sorcerie did wexe large and stronge un til they weren as talle as men. Thei weren trayned by an hedgehog ycleped Shivere and haue lernede the artes of werre for to defende Engelonde. Augustinus doth fight with an longebowe, Ambrosius wyth an shorte bowe, Gregorius wyth two crossbowes, and Hieronymus doth kepe the arwes for the reste. Thei dwellen yn the seweres undir Londoun and eten blancmange wyth much relishe.

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’KALAMAZOO’: Thys doughty knight kan gadir an hooste of werre of manye scolers, the whiche aren of litel use yn combat but might serue to distracte the enemye while the reste of the Ocks Menne do defuse a bombe or kille a large monstere. Kalamazoo hath the powere to intoxicate eny manne or woman at wille, wyth a depe and grete intoxicacioun that doth laste for dayes. Hys secrete hideoute ys a magicale place ycleped ‘Michigan.’

...and forget nat to sende yn yower entries for the photographie conteste!!

vendredi, juin 09, 2006


Ich am honoured to ben yprofiled at Normblog.

mercredi, juin 07, 2006

Tournamente of Photographie Readere Conteste! (and newes of Kente)

Mes Trescherez Lecteurz,

Goodbye to the custoum hous! Ich haue my laboures ydoon ther, and acquittede myselfe wel yn seruice of my lorde the kynge, and nowe ich am ferre from Londoun wyth yts fishmongeres and yts werring factions and yts armees of rattes. Nevir ayein shal ich haue to listen the while Nichol Brembre doth yammere on and on about hys newe hummer limousyne and the puissance of the subwooferes yn hys hoome theatre (long tyme, ywis, ich had thoghte a 'subwoofer' merely to be an verye smal hounde). Nevir ayein shal ich heare speculacioun of the woole trade whanne ich go to the watir-cooler, thogh ich shal soore misse the manye conversaciounes we dide haue concerynge 'Lost.'

And Kente ys right fayre and temperate yn the goode moneth of Juin. To kepe bisy ich haue hadde the honoure of beynge placed on a commission of the pees (grant merci, Sire Burley!), to keep ordre yn this fayre shire. Lowyses mood doth improue ech daye, especiallye as he hath lernede ther beth an clubbe nearbye in which hip-hoppe is yplayed. And the swote joye of fadirhood ys incresed yn myn herte, for my owene deere sone Thomas ys backe for the summere, aftir hauynge wel seruede the Duk of Lancaster yn Espayne. Weeklie he inviteth freendes ovir for cricket, but that beth merelye an excuse to sitte yn the yerde and drynke of ale – the whiche ys just fyne wyth me, for the man nedeth a breke.

As for this litel blogge, ich am ystricken wel nigh deef and blynde by wondere at how manye good folk wishe to rede of my japes and the travailes of myn familie. Ich do humblie yive grete thankes until all of yow for yower intereste yn the litel matirs of my lyf and my werke.

And lo, my bisynesse doth prosper. Thurgh zazzle, my trustie weavere the Wyf of Bathe and ich haue ysolde CC t-shirtes! Twyce hundrede men and women clothed yn myn liverie ys a grete affinitee yndeed, a right ful and grande retinue of loyal foolk.

For to celebrate, ich wolde haue a tournamente of photographie. Taak a picture of yowerself or yower freendes werynge myn liveree, and yf it pleseth yow then sende yt to me at Ich and my famille shal juge them basid on skilful composicioun, amusynge situaciones, offensiveness to John Gowere, and noble bearynge. The moost notable picturez shal be yposted on thys litel blogge, and the takeres of the III beste picturez shal receyve eyther a speciale limited-editione chaucer blogge t-shirte or els the chaucer blogge t-shirte of ther choyce.*

Yf thou hast nat yet a t-shirte and wolde fayne buye oon, ther haue ben manye t-shirtes ymaad for thys blogge thurgh Zazzle. The syte kan be longe and confusynge, so ich shal liste the standardes and myn personale fauorytes heer for to ese yower taske of serchynge. Do remembre that thou kanst modifie eny shirte, makynge yt a differente coloure or a different type of garmente:

  • Basic Fan T-Shirte

  • Johannes Gower is a Wankere T-Shirte

  • How queynte! (buy nat thys shirte yf thou knowst nat what it doth signifie)

  • 'Woldstow haue my shifte thyn voweles?'

  • 'John/Eleanor Rykener is my hero(ine)'

  • Grant merci a thousande tymes for yower intereste yn thys blogge and yn myn liverie! Ich do hope that thys tournamente of t-shirte photographie shal be ful of muche laughter and solaas, and yive yow, myn rederes, a fyne opportunitee to displaye yower talentes.

    Ich do promise yow a verray and trewe postynge ful of sentence and soolas yn dayes to come, but do yive me a litel tyme for to reste, for thynges are yet crazye arounde heere. Ich haue ben ful bisy settynge up the hous, and everye tyme ich do posicioun an item of furniture, even some thynge as simple as a chayre or stool, Philippa doth make grete crye and doth moue yt. She carrieth a boke written yn straunge caracteres the whiche she calleth ‘fange shewaie.’ Thys ‘fange shewaie’ doth telle her yn what places everye thynge muste be putte, and ich do thynke yt muste also contayne secrete formulaes for dryvynge me ynto madnesse as wel.

    Le Vostre

    * TECHNICALITEES OF THE TOURNAMENT OF PHOTOGRAPHIE: Myn emaile conneccioun yn Kente ys basicallye medievale, so plese kepe the fyle sizes ful smale and modeste whanne ye sende yn the picturez. Yf thou sende yn a picture, do knowe that it coulde likelie appeare on thys blogge, so sende yt nat yf thou best shye. Al entrantes shal be identifiede by yiven name or pseudonym al oon. Yf thou art oon of the III grand prize wynneres, ich wille require an mailynge addresse to whiche to sende thyn wynnynge t-shirte, the whiche addresse ich wille aske aftir the conteste beth finishede. Al of thys doth brynge me yn mynde of a jeste: Yn to what maner of competicioun are fayre maydes ylured by Anglo-Saxon fraternitee brotheres? A hwaet t-shirte conteste!

    jeudi, juin 01, 2006

    Deedes of Majestee

    O the tene and vexacioun of beynge the humble servaunt of a grete Kyng. For todaye, as ich dide looke ovir the laste of myn householdes posessiouns yn Aldgate of Londoun, bisi ynough with muche labour and thogte aboute wher to putte the lampe yn the rentede van and whethir Lowys wanteth the tee shirte he hath ylefte crumplide yn the cornere of hys roome, lo! an heraud dide appeare wyth a message for me from my lorde Kyng Richarde.

    By Seinte Bartholemewes grille! Yt was no thyng othir than a royale writ De flatteria scribenda, the whiche doth demaunde that ich wryte some small libell or brode-sheete yn prayse of Kyng Richarde contaynynge proofe of his vertu. Ich do translate the writ for yow heere:

    RICARDUS DEI GRATIA rex Angliae et Franciae et dominus Hiberniae ad suum carum servum Galfridum Chaucer salutem. Nunc est scribendum aliquid de flatteria pro nostra regali maiestate. Diu fructibus largitatis nostrae fructus es, et pauca pro nobis produxisti. Quaedam facta de quodam milite strenuo Carolo Norrys nomine in paginis internettae ad nostram notitiam advenerunt. Talia facta de potentia et sapientiae de nobis scribas.

    “Richarde et cetera to hys deere servaunt Geoffreye Chaucere sendeth greetynges. Yt ys tyme to wryte sum thyng of flatterye for Oure Royale Majestee. Loonge tyme thou hast enjoyede the fruytes of oure largesse, and yiven litel to vs. Certayne deedes of a certayne bolde Knighte yclepede Charles de Norrys haue ycome to Oure Attencioun yn pages of the internette. Write of vs swich maner of deedes of powere and wisdam.”

    Ywis, as thes thynges goon, ich dide haue to stop my daye vntil ich had composid and endited sum factes aboute my noble Lord Kyng Richard, the which ich haue heere yncluded so that ye kan reden of hem:


    KYNG RICHARDE doth nat chase the deere. Chasynge doth implie the possibilitee that KYNG RICHARDE mighte nat catche the deere. KYNG RICHARD mounteth his horse and waiteth for the deere to die.

    Whanne an dispute at Oxenforde did occur considerynge the trewe nature of the power of royale kyngeshipe, KYNG RICHARDE was acknowledged the wiseste doctour yn that lerned companie. Yet he dide yive an answere of two woordes onlie: “KYNG RICHARDE.”

    The voweles of the Englysshe tonge weren supposed to shifte yn 1377, but KYNG RICHARDE tolde them to staye the helle where they were.

    KYNG RICHARDE kan make Johannes Goweres poetrie interestinge.

    KYNG RICHARDE doth nat consulte the bookes of lawes and statutez of the reaume. He kepeth the lawes yn his owene herte.

    KYNG RICHARDE his touche kan cure scrofula. Too bad, then, that he shal nevir touch thee, churl!

    Yonge infauntes do crye and waile with muchel a teere for thei knowe that nevir shal ther feestes be as royale and fayre as those of KYNGE RICHARDE.

    KYNG RICHARDE was ful able to haue conquerede all of Fraunce longe agoon, but he thoghte that the “Thirtee Nyne Yeeres Warre” soundede bad.

    Armor doth weare KYNG RICHARDE for proteccioun.

    Oones as the cronique doth reherce, ther liued a kynge hight Darius who dide gather hys thre counsellors and aske what was the strengest thynge, wyn, womman, or a kyng? And the firste wyse man dide saye that the kynge was the moost of strengthe, for he hadde powir over lyf and deeth. And the seconde dide clayme that wyn was the strengest, for yt doth bynde everi man far moore than ony kynge. And the thridde sage dide saye that that wommen ben the myhtieste, for hir loue hath caused manye kingdomes to rise or to falle - and yet he dide adde that truthe was strenger than alle othir thynges, for in no wise may truthe be overcome. And then KYNG RICHARDE dide slaye alle of them.

    KYNG RICHARDE doth nat sleepe; he exerteth his majestee while prone.

    KYNG RICHARDE kan yive a summarie of Pieres Plowman yn undir a minute.

    Whanne Parlemente dide aske for an accounte of the expenditure of KYNG RICHARDE his housholde, KYNG RICHARDE sente vnto them onlye a peynture of his visage ytwistede yn wrathe. Parlemente dissoluede ytselfe and the Knightes of the Shire dide flee to foreyn londes.

    KYNG RICHARDE alreadye habet the corpus.

    KYNG RICHARDE nedeth nat to buye riche furres of ermine for to make hys robes – the ermines themselves jumpe on to hys backe and do slee themselves in obedience.

    KYNG RICHARDE ys soore angerede at the clergie for infringement of copyrighte, for ‘The Peace of God’ beth the name of hys right arme, and ‘The Truce of God’ beth the name of his left arme.

    At night KYNG RICHARDE hath brighte lanternes and torches al ybrennynge yn his chambre. Nat by cause KYNG RICHARDE doth feere the shadowede derkenesse, but by cause the derknesse ytself hath a grete feere of KYNG RICHARDE!

    KYNG RICHARDE nedeth nat a hawke or faucon, for hys owne honde kan flye thurgh the air and kille any thynge.

    Whenne God doth write lettres patente, he calleth hymself "Lord of the Universe by the Grace of KYNGE RICHARDE.”

    The Black Deeth had halfe of yts populacioun destroyede by KYNG RICHARDE.

    Whanne he was borne, KYNG RICHARDE dide emerge from his motheres womb wyth sevene riche bishopes, a ful lernede confessour, severale dukes who aren hys freendes and counsellours, two yeomen bearynge banneres and ten menne of Gasconie ful redy to cooke a fyne feeste.