The King’s Quair reminds us very much of Chaucer’s work.  All through it there are lines which might have been written by Chaucer, and in the last verse James speaks of Gower and Chaucer as his “masters dear.”  Of Gower I have said nothing in this book, because there is not room to tell of every one, and he is not so important as some or so interesting as others.  So I leave you to learn about him later.  It is to Chaucer, too, much more than to Gower that James owes his music.  And if he is grave like Gower rather than merry like Chaucer, we must remember that for nineteen years he had lived a captive, so that it was natural his verse should be somber as his life had been.  And though there is no laughter in this poem, it shows a power of feeling joy as well as sorrow, which makes us sad when we remember how long the poet was shut away from common human life.  The King’s Quair is written in verses of seven lines.  Chaucer used this kind of verse, but because King James used it too, and used it so well, it came to be called the Rhyme Royal.

King James’s story had a happy ending.  A story with a happy ending must end of course with a wedding, and so did this one.  The King of England, now Henry VI, was only a child.  But those who ruled for him were quite pleased when they heard that Prince James had fallen in love with the beautiful lady of the garden, for she was the King’s cousin, Lady Jane Beaufort.  They set James free and willingly consented that he should marry his lady, for in this way they hoped to bind England and Scotland together, and put an end to wars between the two countries.  So there was a very grand wedding in London when the lovely lady of the garden became Queen of Scotland.  And then these two, a King and Queen, yet happy as any simple lovers journeyed northward to their kingdom.

They were received with great rejoicing and crowned at Scone.  But the new King soon found, that during the long years he had been kept a prisoner in England his kingdom had fallen into wild disorder.  Sternly he set himself to bring order out of disorder, and the wilfull, lawless nobles soon found to their surprise that the gentle poet had a will of iron and a hand of steel, and that he could wield a sword and scepter as skillfully as his pen.

James I righted much that was wrong.  In doing it he made for himself many enemies.  But of all that he did or tried to do in the twelve years that he ruled you will read in history books.  Here I will only tell you of his sad death.

In 1436 James decided to spend Christmas at Perth, a town he loved.  As he neared the river Forth, which he had to cross on his way, an aged woman came to him crying in a loud voice, “My Lord King, if ye cross this water ye shall never return again in life.”

Now the King had read a prophecy in which it was said that a King of Scotland should be slain that same year.  So wondering what this woman might mean, he sent a knight to speak with the woman.  But the knight could make nothing of her, and returning to the King he said, “Sir, take no heed of yon woman’s words, for she is old and foolish, and wots not what she sayeth.”  So the King rode on.