THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY
And finding himself master of no arts but those of warfare and horsemanship, he determined to try what chivalry would do for him and made the journey oversea to France, the which realm one of our glorious kings was at that time engaged in tormenting. This expedition Sir Philip performed in company with a band of pretty fellows of Gwent, of whom some had made the country too warm for them, some found the times too dull at home, some like himself were desirous of mending divers rags and tatters in their estates. And I believe that this Silurian band did not disgrace their ancestors, and came to be much respected by the French as a sturdy set of men who made large gaps and cut to the bone. This was well enough, but yet Sir Philip did not find his pockets get any fuller, and heard no talk of a grant of land or lordship, or office about the Court, or government of an island, or any of those contentments which are good for an old decayed family. Hence he made his way home again, perceiving that chivalry was going to the devil, and that this war was a very unrighteous war that did nobody any good. For he was not so silly as to think that killing Peers of France, burning their towns and castles and pilling the people was in itself a comely undertaking; though he might have excused it if it had brought him one or two of those little easements that I have mentioned. After this disappointment he was for a few weeks perplexed as to what he should turn his hands to, and at last concluded to roam for a while about the country, keeping his eyes open and his
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