[Sidenote: 1193] the lands of an absent Crusader.[1085] Early in the following year—as soon as Richard was known to be safely out of the way in a German prison—John made another attempt to seduce the Norman barons from their allegiance. Failing in this, he proceeded into France and did homage to Philip on the conditions which had been proposed a year before.[1086] Thus matters stood when the two English abbots set out on their quest. They were present at the Maunday Thursday assembly at Spire, and on their return home reported that “peace” had been there made between the Emperor and the king.[1087] If Richard was under the same delusion, he must have been speedily undeceived when he found himself shut up within the gloomy walls of Triffels and denied all further access to Henry’s presence.[1088] On the other hand, Henry was in all likelihood quite as much disappointed by the failure of all attempts to break the spirit of his prisoner. If we may trust an English chronicler whose information was probably derived from an eye-witness, Richard never gave his jailers the satisfaction of seeing a cloud on his brow; he was “always cheery and full of jest in talk, fierce and bold in action, according to circumstances. He would tease his warders with rough jokes, and enjoy the sport of making them drunk, and of trying his own strength against that of their big bodies.”[1089] His deeper feelings were expressed in a song,[1090] addressed to his half-sister Countess Mary of Champagne, which he seems to have composed in two languages, French and Provençal, in the autumn or early in the winter of 1193, and which may be roughly translated thus: “Feeble the words, and faltering the tongue Wherewith a prisoner moans his doleful plight; Yet for his comfort he may make a song. Friends have I many, but their gifts are slight; Shame to them if unransomed I, poor wight, Two winters languish here! “English and Normans, men of Aquitaine, Well know they all who homage owe to me That not my lowliest comrade in campaign Should pine thus, had I gold to set him free; To none of them would I reproachful be— Yet—I am prisoner here! “This have I learned, here thus unransomed left, That he whom death or prison hides from sight Of kinsmen and of friends is clean bereft; Woe’s me! but greater woe on these will light. Yea, sad and full of shame will be their plight If long I languish here. “No marvel is it that my heart is sore While my lord[1091] tramples down my land, I trow; Were he but mindful of the oath we swore Each to the other, surely do I know That thus in duresse I should long ago Have ceased to languish here.