To London once my steps I bent, Where truth in nowise should be faint; To Westminster-ward I forthwith went, To a man of law to make complaint, I said, “For Mary’s love, that holy saint, Pity the poor that would proceed!” But for lack of Money I could not speed. To And as I thrust the press among, By froward chance my hood was gone, Yet for all that I stayed not long Till to the King’s Bench I was come. Before the judge I kneeled anon, And prayed him for God’s sake to take heed. But for lack of Money I might not speed. Beneath them sat clerks a great rout, Which fast did write by one assent, There stood up one and cried about, “Richard, Robert, and John of Kent!” I wist not well what this man meant, He cried so thickly there indeed. But he that lacked Money might not speed Unto the Common Pleas I yode [81] tho, Where sat one with a silken hood; I did him reverence, for I ought to do so, And told my case as well as I could, How my goods were defrauded me by falsehood. I got not a mum of his mouth for my meed, And for lack of Money I might not speed. Unto the Rolls I gat me from thence, Before the clerks of the Chancerie, Where many I found earning of pence, But none at all once regarded me. I gave them my plaint upon my knee; They liked it well when they had it read, But lacking Money I could not be sped. In Westminster Hall I found out one Which went in a long gown of ray, [82a] I crouched and kneeled before him anon, For Mary’s love of help I him pray. “I wot not what thou mean’st,” gan he say; To get me thence he did me bede: For lack of Money I could not speed. Within this Hall, neither rich nor yet poor Would do for me aught although I should die. Which seeing, I got me out of the door Where Flemings began on me for to cry, “Master, what will you copen [82b] or buy? Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read? Lay down your silver, and here you may speed.” Then to Westminster Gate I presently went, When the sun was at highé prime; Cooks to me they took good intent, And proffered me bread with ale and wine, Ribs of beef, both fat and full fine; A fair cloth they gan for to sprede, But wanting Money I might not then speed. Then unto London I did me hie, Of all the land it beareth the prize. “Hot peascods!” one began to cry, “Strawberry ripe!” and “Cherries in the rise!” [82c]
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