Richard of Almaigne

Sitteth alle stille, ant herkneth to me;
The kyng of Alemaigne, bi mi leaute,
Thritti thousent pound askede he
For te make the pees in the countre,
Ant so he dude more.
Richard, thah thou be ever trichard,
Tricthen shalt thou never more.

Richard of Alemaigne, whil that he wes kyng,
He spende al is tresour opon swyvyng,
Haveth he nout of Walingford o ferlyng,
Let him habbe, ase he brew, bale to dryng,
Maugre Wyndesore.
Richard, thah thou be ever, &c.

The kyng of Alemaigne wende do ful wel,
He saisede the mulne for a castel,
With hare sharpe swerdes he grounde the stel,
He wende that the sayles were mangonel
To helpe Wyndesore.
Richard, thah thou be ever, &c.

The kyng of Alemaigne gederede ys host,
Makede him a castel of a mulne post,
Wende with is prude, ant is muchele bost,
Brohte from Alemayne mony sori gost
To store Wyndesore.
Richard, thah thou be ever, &c.

By God, that is aboven ous, he dude muche synne,
That lette passen over see the erl of Warynne:
He hath robbed Engelond, the mores, ant the fenne,
The gold, ant the selver, and y-boren henne,
For love of Wyndesore.
Richard, thah thou be ever, &c.

Sire Simond de Mountfort hath suore bi ys chyn,
Hevede he nou here the erl of Waryn,
Shulde he never more come to is yn,
Ne with sheld, ne with spere, ne with other gyn,
To help of Wyndesore.
Richard, thah thou be ever, &c.

Sire Simond de Montfort hath suore bi ys cop,
Hevede he nou here Sire Hue de Bigot:
Al he shulde quite here twelfmoneth scot
Shulde he never more with his fot pot
To helpe Wyndesore.
Richard, thah thou be ever, &c.

Be the luef, be the loht, sire Edward,
Thou shalt ride sporeles o thy lyard
Al the ryhte way to Dovere-ward,
Shalt thou never more breke foreward;
Ant that reweth sore
Edward, thou dudest as a shreward,
Forsoke thyn emes lore
Richard, &c.