Today’s discovery, some lovely words from 1550…
“Of Rente Raysers” by Robert Crowley
A Manne that had landes of tenne pounde by yere,
Surueyed the same and lette it out deare;
So that of tenne pounde he made well a score (20)
Moe poundes by the yere than other dyd before.
But when he was told whan daunger it was
to oppresse his tenauntes, he sayed he did not passe.
For thys thynge, he sayde, full certayne he wyste,
That wyth hys owne he myghte alwayes do as he lyste.
But immediatlye, I trowe thys oppressoure fyl sicke
Of a voyce that he harde, “geue accountes of thy baliwicke!”
A man that had lands worth ten pound each year,
Surveyed the same and then let it out dear;
So that of ten pound he made well a score (20)
More pounds by the year than all others before.
But when he was told what danger it was
To oppress his tenants, he said I don’t pause,
For this thing, he said, full certain he wist,
That with his own, he might do as he list.
But immediately, I trow, this oppressor fell sick:
Of a voice that he heard, ‘Give accounts of thy bailiwick!’