Classic Poem

An emsampelle of deseytte.

Also they bere the golde owte of thys londe,
And souketh the thryfte awey oute of oure honde,
As the waffore soukethe honye fro the bee,
So mynuceth oure commodite.
Now wolle ye here how they in Cotteswolde
Were wonte to borowe, or they schulde be solde,
Here wolle gode, as for yere and yere,
Of clothe and tynne they did in lych manere,
And in her galeys schyppe this marchaundye?
Than sone at Venice of them men wol it bye,
Then utterne there the chaffare be the payse.
And lyghtly als ther they make her reys.
And whan tho gode bene at Venice solde,
Than to carrye her chaunge they ben fulle bolde
Into Flaundres, whan thei this money have,
They wyll it profre ther sotelte to save,
To Englysshe marchaundis to yeve it oute by eschaunge,
To be paid agayn, ther make not straunge,
Here in Englonde, semynge for the better,
At the reseyvinge and syght of the lettir,
By iiij. pens lesse in the noble rounde,
That is xij. pens in the golden pounde.
And yf we wolle have of paymente,
A fulle monythe than moste hym nedes assente,
To viij. pens losse, that is shellyngis tweyne,
In the Englysshe pounde, as eftesones ageync
Ffor ij. monthes xij. pens must be paye,
In the Englysshe pounde, what is that to seye,
But iij. shyllingis, so that in pounde felle
Ffor hurte and harme harde is wyth hem to delle.
And whenne Englysshe marchaundys have contente
This eschaunge in Englonde of assente,
That these seyde Veneciance have in wone,
And Florentynes, to bere here golde sone
Overe the see into Flaundres ageyne.
And thus they lyve in Flaundres, sothe to sayne,
And in London, wyth suche chevesaunce
That men calle usure, to oure losse and hinderaunce.