Record must be made, I said, of his actions in France. Hornstrake protested. The archers‘ commanders, and such clerics as accompanied the English military in France, had promised them that their cause was just, God approved their invasion, and acts committed by the archers in the course of the war that would normally be considered homicide, or arson, or robbery, were sanctified...
The bowmen went up a kind of street between two rows of telds, crowded by sellers who‘d have them buy bunches of heart‘s ease, baby aquerns and squabs in wicker baskets, puddings, eels brad on the gledes, saffron cakles, pomanders, clogs, silver tokens and rattles.
Picture from York's Shambles (old shopping streets) today.
Mad drained a can. ‘I mayn‘t sing for them no more,‘ he said. ‘I feel the Latin carve shapes in me, like to it takes the rough ridges of my heart, where seeds might take root, and smooths and edges them to floor a church...
THE STIR WAS made by two friars of Gloucester. One drove a cart and the other banged a drum. The priest came to fight them, for none but he had the right to shrive the folk of Outen Green, and he‘d rather die than see Christ‘s love sold cheap, or for a halfpenny less than he sold it, anywise.
To Calais, in Ordinary Time | 
