lundi, juin 18, 2007

The Horrible Terrour: Boke I

I have on mine own blog thyse poost ymade, but chere Geffrey quod I mote say any thinge of note on here eke. Wele, thys be of note.

Some of ye knowe nat the horror on the XIV dey but havyng seen hit with mine own two eyne I telle hit here. I may nat telle hit all at one time, for I be on the renne.

All cam whan that frist I herde the newes that Wil Walworth the meior had deraigned to shutten the ports of the citee, syn ynere there were rebeles. The aviseurs and King Richard were atte Tower, methinketh (there I sente hem tart de cerise a weke agone) and a noble man yforsed by the rebeles to serve hem, er his children should be quelled, sought to speke with hem. On Corpus Christi, I toke my childeren and alle we what mighte wente to the Tower to prayen with the King, that these rebeles should goon in pes ower else God to casten aqua fortis upon hem but nat on us. Aft we prayed, the aviseurs and King Richard set on a barque, to seen the rebeles, and I made to goon home to Savoy that I may telle yow gentil rederes of it all. Only then Richard wente nere shore and creyed lyk an idiot, “Churls, yow succen! LOL! Westen syyyyde!” Yis, he sayd L – O – L, and all the men of courte grucched. Thise be wherefore a XIV yere elde King hath aviseurs to seen the toyles. Richard toorned round straight wey to the Tower ayain. O! Were my Johne here ne LOL should have yspoken ben! At thyse wordes, the rebels stormed the citee, forsed the gates be oped and straight went to the Savoy. Mordred hem the guarderes, then in went and gan to smashen al mannir of thinges whils ychaunt with “Singen in the Rayn” so I am recited. Ystond on too-ende, I dede scarcely the Savoy see, and that swyving bitch Constaunze keped to schoven me aside, for she would see of my spot.There was the mighty Savoy, myn home with my swoote Johne. Then soddenly – clap! The winde reked al of gunne-powdre, and what lite remained of the palace was in flames. I and Constanze began to wepe, and eke alle min childeren and Kateline dede so. “O the humanitee!” we creyed, and alle oure poure servaunts we woote were deed, for ne no body should have lived.To the dey neightest, al were yterrour. I fered for myn elder childeren, Thomas Oone and Blanche who are at schole and far awey, and for my suster and hir housbond, and hirs. Philippe swynketh often for Constaunze ynow, and may have even been atte Savoy. My neere-nefew King Richard felte sore wretched for that he maked oure hoome become burst, so he gave Constaunze a tart de cerise. How nyce. I knew that same tart de cerise syn I made hit for him a weke agone. Then went he maken amends for saying LOL to the rebeles. As soon as oped the gates to lesse him leve, the villeines camen in to the Tower, and by my troth, creyed hem to quellen alle who be known to the Duke of Lancastre – my Johne. Poure Frere William erste was mordered, and soon hit semed all oure servaunts that were saved from flames should deyen from the revolt, bute mower Constaunze and my selfe dreded for oure childeren, who ne may renne wyth hir shorte legges, so we mote haulen hem and there be IV of hem and oonly Constaunze and me to haulen as we fleyde, uppe the staires, til I thought his should be a ful bad idee to flee uppe the staires and freyned “What is thyse, a horror tale?” And certes we ne might knowen, for there was Frere Williames heede upon a stick with bloode and salive yrun from him. We had fortune yet, for tis claimed that were the Kinges mothores dames (and nere Joane hirself) surprized by the rebeles, may hem hanged becomen. Then – gramercy Gode! – sighted we Henry, and John Ferrour who I wote nat, but he sayed, we should give to him the childeren and he should stelen hem in saufetee. Constaunze and me ne were able to holden hem namoore, so gave we him alle but Joane who is so smal. Alice de Holland then cam and quod she should take Joane so I mighte fleye. So Constaunze and me drove thurgh the throng armed contre the villeins wyth oure hayr-pines as weaponnes. Then fell a grete scheme to me, to skriek atte rebeles that Constaunze be the Duchesse of Launcastre and to fleye whan set hem upon hir; but I fered me should she creye with hir last breeth that I be the Dukes mistresse so kepte me with hir. Though I skrieked al the while, I founde the gate with Constaunze, and quod she should go where she would: but I must to my suster, to see she be unharmed.


Anonymous Anonyme said...


mardi, 19 juin, 2007  
Blogger Geoffrey Chaucer said...

My deere suster-in-lawe, yt pleseth me much that thou poste ayein on myn blog, but yet the mattir of thy poost causeth much payne and sorwe. Ich am glad that thou hast scaped wyth thy lyf yn to sauftee. Ich haue many tidinges yheard in Kente of the gret riot and rumor, and eek sum folk cam by myn hous and maad muchel clamor - yet they did pass on swiftly, thanked be God, for ich did pretend to be no JP but rathir a humble man of dentistry, and than thei did say ich was a man of good courtesy and a trewe man and a healer of molars and thus thei left myn garden gnomes unharmed and eek - ayein thanked be heigh God and his merciful mooder - my bookes and papirs unbrent.

Ich do much desyr to heare what oothir aventures have bifallen thee during thys tyme of much feare. May the Fors be with thee!

mardi, 19 juin, 2007  
Blogger Katherine de Swineford said...

O chere Geffrey,
What wrechednesse me liveth! I have mo tristful tales of my journee aft thise foule menne burst the Savoye. Yet I doe have some distresse that thy blog derteth aboute in time, whiles min doth fall chronologiquallich (sp?)and there may comen some disordre sin in MCCCLXXXI thow dwellt yet in Londoun it is sayd, and eke my Johne was known by wise men as Froissart to be in Scotteland, ne Spainye. Shal I goe forth to poosten hereupon though myn historie doth contradicte thyn own?

mercredi, 20 juin, 2007  
Anonymous richard, second of that name, kynge said...

Allace, these ben daies moste eville. Svrelie the warles ende cometh, for swich broyles and riotes ar the verie werke of Satanas.

samedi, 23 juin, 2007  
Anonymous Anonyme said...

Thou noot ich. Ich rede thou blog and wepe that thou be on the renne. The King sayd LOL? He sayd Westen syyyde? Benedicite! Ich seye the King be nyce! Ich be agast to thynketh Frere Williames be mordered! The povre Frere! Canstow seye yf the King hast scaped wyth thy lyf? What a wood wight!

mardi, 24 juillet, 2007  
Blogger Gaurav said...

Good ..
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jeudi, 23 août, 2007  
Anonymous Anonyme said...

wow kool, Mediaeval english language, uh my Gush! how kool indeed it's to hearken such olden terms, batterin' the new hearings..u very very special people....thanx a lot

lundi, 27 août, 2007  
Blogger Jae H. Lee said...


Burgeoning playwright here clumsily making my way through Renaissance and Medieval literature.

I've posted a link to your site in my own recent blog. It features my attempt, feeble at the moment, at Renaissance poetry.

"...chronologiquallich (sp?)" :-)


jeudi, 06 septembre, 2007  
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