They had done enough to give them a superiority in any negotiation, and they privately sent an embassy to the King of England.  Finding him very tractable, they hasted to complete the treaty.  The Pope’s legate, Pandulph, was intrusted with this affair.  He knew the nature of men to be such that they seldom engage willingly, if the whole of an hardship be shown them at first, but that, having advanced a certain length, their former concessions are an argument with them to advance further, and to give all because they have already given a great deal.  Therefore he began with exacting an oath from the king, by which, without showing the extent of his design, he engaged him to everything he could ask.  John swore to submit to the legate in all things relating to his excommunication.  And first he was obliged to accept Langton as archbishop; then to restore the monks of Canterbury, and other deprived ecclesiastics, and to make them a full indemnification for all their losses.  And now, by these concessions, all things seemed to be perfectly settled.  The cause of the quarrel was entirely removed.  But when the king expected for so perfect a submission a full absolution, the legate began a labored harangue on his rebellion, his tyranny, and the innumerable sins he had committed, and in conclusion declared that there was no way left to appease God and the Church but to resign his crown to the Holy See, from whose hands he should receive it purified from all pollutions, and hold it for the future by homage and an annual tribute.

John was struck motionless at a demand so extravagant and unexpected.  He knew not on which side to turn.  If he cast his eyes toward the coast of France, he there saw his enemy Philip, who considered him as a criminal as well as an enemy, and who aimed not only at his crown, but his life, at the head of an innumerable multitude of fierce people, ready to rush in upon him.  If he looked at his own army, he saw nothing there but coldness, disaffection, uncertainty, distrust, and a strength in which he knew not whether he ought most to confide or fear.  On the other hand, the Papal thunders, from the wounds of which he was still sore, were levelled full at his head.  He could not look steadily at these complicated difficulties:  and truly it is hard to say what choice he had, if any choice were left to kings in what concerns the independence of their crown.  Surrounded, therefore, with these difficulties, and that all his late humiliations might not be rendered as ineffectual as they were ignominious, he took the last step, and in the presence of a numerous assembly of his peers and prelates, who turned their eyes from this mortifying sight, formally resigned his crown to the Pope’s legate, to whom at the same time he did homage and paid the first fruits of his tribute.  Nothing could be added to the humiliation of the king upon this occasion, but the insolence of the legate, who spurned the treasure with his foot, and let the crown remain a long time on the ground, before he restored it to the degraded owner.