Sinopsis

One thousand, one hundred and sixty years in time and space had elapsed since God in His grace came down in the Virgin, when a cleric from Caen by the name of Master Wace undertook the story of Rou and his race; he conquered Normandy, like it or not, against the arrogance of which still threatens them – may our King Henry recognise and be aware of this.1 He who has very little income has very little benefit from it. But largesse has now succumbed to avarice; it cannot open its hands, they are more frozen than ice. I do not know where largesse is hidden, I can find no sign or trace of it. He who does not know how to flatter has no opportunity or place in court;* many people are forced to await their turn.2 It was not at all like this at the time of Virgil and Horace, nor of Alexander, Caesar or Statius; then largesse had strength and virtue. (1–16)