Classic Poem

Of the commoditees of Portingalle. The ij. captle.

The marchaundy also of Portyngale
To dyverse londes torne into sale.
Portyngalers wyth us have trought one hande,
Whose marchaundy cometh moche into Englande.
They bene oure ffrendes wyth there commoditez,
And wee Englysshe passen into there countrees.
Here londe hathe oyle, wyne, osey, wex, and greyne;
Ffygues, reysyns, hony, and cordeweyne;
Dates and salt, hydes, and suche marchaundy.
And if they wolde to Fflaundres passe forth bye,
They schulde not be suffrede ones ner twyes,
Ffor supportynge of oure cruelle enmyes;
That is to saye Fflemmyngis wyth here gyle,
Ffor chaungeable they are in lytelle whyle.
Than I conclude by resons many moo,
Yf wee sufferede nethere ffrende nere ffoo,
What soo enmyes and so supportynge,
Passe for-by us in tyme of werrynge,
Sethe oure ffrendys wolle not bene in causse
Of oure hyndrenge, yf reason lede thys clausse.
Than nede frome Fflaundres pease shulde by to us sought,
And othere londes shulde seche pease, doute nought.
Ffor Fflaundres is staple, as men tell me,
To alle nacyons of Crystiante.