Chapter III: Book VIII: King John and the Abbot of Canterbury

Stories resembling that contained in the following ballad are to be met with in the literature of most of the nations of Europe; for example, in the _Gesta Romanorum_, (No. XIX. and [XXXV.] of Madden's _Old English Versions_,) in the amusing German tale _Der Phaffe Amis_, 98-180, in _Eulenspiegel_, (Marbach, p. 28,) and the English _Owlglass_ (31st Adventure in the recent edition), in the Grimm's _Kinder-und-Haus-marchen_, No. 152, in Sacchetti's _Novels_, No. 4, the_Patrañuelo_ of Juan Timoneda, Alcala, 1576 (Ritson, _Anc. Songs_, ii. 183), the _Contes à rire_, i. 182, (_Gent. Mag._ 65, i. 35,) etc., etc. _King John and the Abbot_, says Grundtvig (ii. 650), is universally known in Denmark in the form of a prose tale; and a copy is printed in _Gamle danske Minder_ (1854) No. 111, _The King and the Miller_.

Wynken de Worde, printed in 1511, a little collection of riddles, translated from the French, like those propounded by King John to the Abbot, with the title _Demaundes Joyous_. By this link the present ballad is connected with a curious class of compositions, peculiar to the Middle Ages--the Disputations, or Wit-Combats, of which the dialogues of Salomon and Marcolf (existing in many languages) are the most familiar, and those of Salomon and Saturn (in Anglo-Saxon) the oldest preserved specimens. These dialogues, in their earlier shape grave contests for superiority in knowledge and wisdom, underwent a change about the twelfth century, by which they became essentially comic. The serious element, represented by Salomon, was retained after this, merely to afford material, or contrast, for the coarse humor of Marcolf, whose part it is, under the character of a rude and clownish person, "facie deformis et turpissimus," to turn the sententious observations of the royal sage into ludicrous parodies.[1]

The hint, and possibly a model, for these disputations may have been found in Jewish tradition. We learn from Josephus, (_Antiquities_, Book VIII. ch. v.) that Hiram of Tyre and Solomon sent one another sophistical puzzles and enigmas to be solved, on condition of forfeiting large sums of money in case of failure, and that Solomon's riddles were all guessed by Abdæmon of Tyre, or by Abdimus, his son, for authorities differ. This account coincides with what we read in _Chronicles_, (Book II. ch. ii. 13, 14,) of the man sent by Hiram to Solomon, who, besides a universal knowledge of the arts, was skilful "to find out every device that might be put to him" by cunning men--that is, apparently, "hard questions," such as the Queen of Sheba came to prove Solomon with, (1 Kings, x. i.) some account of which is given in the _Talmud_.--See, on the whole subject, Kemble's masterly essay on _Salomon and Saturn_, printed by the Ælfric Society: also Grässe, _Sagenkreise des Mittelalters_, p. 406-471; the Grimms' _Kinder-und-Hausmärchen_, vol. iii. p. 236, ed. 1856; F. W. V. Schmidt, _Taschenbuch deutscher Romanzen_, p. 82.

Examples of the riddle-song pure and simple will be found under _Captain Wedderburn's Courtship_.

[1] Among those nations who originated and developed the character of Marcolf (the German and the French) his fame has declined, but in Italy, where the legend was first introduced towards the end of the sixteenth century, his shrewd sayings, like the kindred jests of the _Eulenspiegel_ in Germany, have an undiminished popularity, and his story, both in the form of a chap-book and of a satirical epic, (the _Bertoldo_,) is circulated throughout the length and breadth of the country, whence it has also been transplanted into Greece.

This ballad is taken from Percy's _Reliques_, ii. 329. The copy in Durfey's _Pills to Purge Melancholy_, iv. 29, or _A Collection of Old Ballads_, ii. 49, is vastly inferior to the present.

"The common popular ballad of _King John and the Abbot_," says Percy, "seems to have been abridged and modernized about the time of James I., from one much older, entitled _King John and the Bishop of Canterbury_. The Editor's folio MS. contains a copy of this last, but in too corrupt a state to be reprinted; it however afforded many lines worth reviving, which will be found inserted in the ensuing stanzas.

"The archness of the following questions and answers hath been much admired by our old ballad-makers; for besides the two copies above mentioned, there is extant another ballad on the same subject, (but of no great antiquity or merit,) entitled _King Olfrey and the Abbot_. [_Old Ball._ ii. 55.] Lastly, about the time of the civil wars, when the cry ran against the bishops, some puritan worked up the same story into a very doleful ditty, to a solemn tune, concerning _King Henry and a Bishop_; with this stinging moral:

'Unlearned men hard matters out can find,
When learned bishops princes eyes do blind.'

"The following is chiefly printed from an ancient black-letter copy, to the tune of _Derry-down_."

An ancient story Ile tell you anon
Of a notable prince, that was called King John;
And he ruled England with maine and with might,
For he did great wrong, and maintein'd little right.

And Ile tell you a story, a story so merrye, 5
Concerning the Abbott of Canterbùrye;
How for his house-keeping and high renowne,
They rode poste for him to fair London towne.

An hundred men, the king did heare say,
The abbot kept in his house every day; 10
And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt,
In velvet coates waited the abbot about.

"How now, father abbot, I heare it of thee,
Thou keepest a farre better house than mee;
And for thy house-keeping and high renowne, 15
I feare thou work'st treason against my crown."

"My liege," quo' the abbot, "I would it were knowne
I never spend nothing, but what is my owne;
And I trust your grace will doe me no deere,
For spending of my owne true-gotten geere." 20

"Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is highe,
And now for the same thou needest must dye;
For except thou canst answer me questions three,
Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodìe.

"And first," quo' the king, "when I'm in this stead, 25
With my crowne of golde so faire on my head,
Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe,
Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worthe.

"Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt,
How soone I may ride the whole world about; 30
And at the third question thou must not shrink,
But tell me here truly what I do think."

"O these are hard questions for my shallow witt,
Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet:
But if you will give me but three weekes space, 35
Ile do my endeavour to answer your grace."

"Now three weeks space to thee will I give,
And that is the longest time thou hast to live;
For if thou dost not answer my questions three,
Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to mee." 40

Away rode the abbot all sad at that word,
And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford;
But never a doctor there was so wise,
That could with his learning an answer devise.

Then home rode the abbot of comfort so cold, 45
And he mett his shepheard a going to fold:
"How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home;
What newes do you bring us from good King John?"

"Sad newes, sad newes, shepheard, I must give,
That I have but three days more to live; 50
For if I do not answer him questions three,
My head will be smitten from my bodìe.

"The first is to tell him there in that stead,
With his crowne of golde so fair on his head,
Among all his liege men so noble of birth, 55
To within one penny of what he is worth.

"The seconde, to tell him, without any doubt,
How soone he may ride this whole world about:
And at the third question I must not shrinke,
But tell him there truly what he does thinke." 60

"Now cheare up, sire abbot, did you never hear yet,
That a fool he may learne a wise man witt?
Lend me horse, and serving men, and your apparel,
And Ile ride to London to answere your quarrel.

"Nay frowne not, if it hath bin told unto mee, 65
I am like your lordship, as ever may bee;
And if you will but lend me your gowne,
There is none shall knowe us at fair London towne."

"Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have,
With sumptuous array most gallant and brave, 70
With crozier, and miter, and rochet, and cope,
Fit to appear 'fore our fader the pope."

"Now, welcome, sire abbot," the king he did say,
"Tis well thou'rt come back to keepe thy day:
For and if thou canst answer my questions three, 75
Thy life and thy living both saved shall bee.

"And first, when thou seest me here in this stead,
With my crowne of golde so fair on my head,
Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe,
Tell me to one penny what I am worth." 80

"For thirty pence our Saviour was sold
Among the false Jewes, as I have bin told:
And twenty-nine is the worth of thee,
For I thinke thou art one penny worser than hee."

The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel,[L85] 85
"I did not think I had been worth so littel!
--Now secondly tell me, without any doubt,
How soone I may ride this whole world about."

"You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same
Until the next morning he riseth againe; 90
And then your grace need not make any doubt
But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about."

The king he laughed, and swore by St. Jone,
"I did not think it could be gone so soone!
--Now from the third question thou must not shrinke, 95
But tell me here truly what I do thinke."

"Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry;
You thinke I'm the abbot of Canterbury;
But I'm his poor shepheard, as plain you may see,
That am come to beg pardon for him and for mee." 100

The king he laughed, and swore by the masse,
"Ile make thee lord abbot this day in his place!"
"Now naye, my liege, be not in such speede,
For alacke I can neither write ne reade."

"Four nobles a week, then I will give thee, 105
For this merry jest thou hast showne unto mee;
And tell the old abbot when thou comest home,
Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John."

85, Meaning probably St. Botolph.

CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN'S COURTSHIP.

The two following ballads, in connection with the foregoing, will serve as specimens of the anciently highly-popular class of riddle songs. No ballad, says Motherwell, is even now more frequently met with on the stalls than _Captain Wedderburn's Courtship_. It was first published in _The New British Songster_, Falkirk, 1785, and afterwards in Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 154, from which the present copy is taken. Chambers gives a few different readings from a copy furnished by Mr. Kinloch--_Scottish Ballads_, p. 331.

A fragment of this piece is given in _Minstrelsy of the English Border_, p. 230, under the title of _The Laird of Roslin's Daughter_. Riddles like those in the following ballads are found in _Proud Lady Margaret_, p. 83 of this volume, _The Courteous Knight_, in the Appendix, and _The Bonny Hind Squire_, in _Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads_, p. 42, Percy Society, vol. xvii.--three varieties of one original: and in _Gifts from over Sea_, Appendix, p. 290. Also, in several of the ancient Norse poems; in the ancient Danish ballad _Svend Vonved_, Grundtvig, No. 18; in _Sven Svanehvit, Svenska F. V._, No. 45; Hammershaimb's _Færöiske Kvæder_, ii. No. 4; Landstad's _Norske Folkeviser_, p. 369; Erk's _Liederhort_, No. 153; Uhland, No. 1, 2, 3; Erlach, iii. 37; _Wunderhorn_, ii. 407; Tschischka and Schottky, _Oesterreichische Volksl._ p. 28; Haupt and Schmaler, _Volksl. der Wenden_, i. No. 150, ii. No. 74; Talvj, _Volksl. der Serben_, ii. 77; Goetze, _Stimmen des russischen Volkes_, p. 163; etc., etc. See especially Grundtvig, i. 237, ii. 648, from whom we have borrowed some of these references.

"The following copy was furnished from Mr. Herd's MS. by the editor of the Border Minstrelsy, and the present writer has supplied a few readings of small importance from his own recollection, as it was quite familiar to him in his early youth." JAMIESON.

The Lord of Roslin's daughter
Walk'd thro' the wood her lane,
And by came Captain Wedderburn,
A servant to the king.
He said unto his serving men, 5
"Were't not against the law,
I would tak her to my ain bed,
And lay her neist the wa'."

"I am walking here alone," she says,
"Amang my father's trees; 10
And you must let me walk alane,
Kind sir, now, if you please;
The supper bell it will be rung,
And I'll be mist awa';
Sae I winna lie in your bed, 15
Either at stock or wa'."

He says, "My pretty lady,
I pray lend me your hand,
And you shall hae drums and trumpets
Always at your command; 20
And fifty men to guard you with,
That well their swords can draw;
Sae we'se baith lie in ae bed,
And ye'se lie neist the wa'."

"Haud awa frae me," she said, 25
"And pray lat gae my hand;
The supper bell it will be rung,
I can nae langer stand;
My father he will angry be,
Gin I be miss'd awa; 30
Sae I'll nae lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'."

Then said the pretty lady,
"I pray tell me your name:"
"My name is Captain Wedderburn, 35
A servant to the king.
Tho' thy father and his men were here,
Of them I'd have nae awe;
But tak you to my ain bed,
And lay you neist the wa'." 40

He lighted aff his milk-white steed,
And set this lady on,
And held her by the milk-white hand,
Even as they rade along;
He held her by the middle jimp, 45
For fear that she should fa',
To tak her to his ain bed,
And lay her neist the wa'.

He took her to his lodging-house;
His landlady look'd ben; 50
Says, "Mony a pretty lady
In Edenbruch I've seen,
But sic a lovely face as thine
In it I never saw;
Gae mak her down a down-bed, 55
And lay her neist the wa'."

"O haud awa' frae me," she says,
"I pray ye lat me be;
I winna gang into your bed,
Till ye dress me dishes three: 60
Dishes three ye maun dress to me,
Gin I should eat them a',
Afore that I lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'.

"Its ye maun get to my supper 65
A cherry without a stane;
And ye maun get to my supper
A chicken without a bane;
And ye maun get to my supper
A bird without a ga'; 70
Or I winna lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'."

"Its whan the cherry is in the flirry,
I'm sure it has nae stane;
And whan the chicken's in the egg, 75
I'm sure it has nae bane;
And sin the flood o' Noah,
The dow she had nae ga';[L78]
Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed,
And ye'se lie neist the wa'." 80

"O haud your tongue, young man," she says,
"Nor that gait me perplex;
For ye maun tell me questions yet,
And that is questions six:
Questions six ye tell to me, 85
And that is three times twa,
Afore I lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'.

"What's greener than the greenest grass?
What hicher than the trees? 90
What's war nor an ill woman's wish?
What's deeper than the seas?
What bird sings first? and whareupon
The dew doth first down fa'?
Ye sall tell afore I lay me down 95
Between you and the wa'."

"Vergris is greener than the grass;
Heaven's hicher than the trees;
The deil's warse nor a woman's wish;
Hell's deeper than the seas; 100
The cock craws first; on cedar top
The dew down first doth fa';
And we'll lie baith in ae bed,
And ye'se lie neist the wa'."

"O haud your tongue, young man," she says, 105
"And gi'e your fleechin' o'er,
Unless you'll find me ferlies,
And that is ferlies four;
Ferlies four ye maun find me,
And that is twa and twa; 110
Or I'll never lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'.

"And ye maun get to me a plumb
That in December grew;
And get to me a silk mantel, 115
That waft was ne'er ca'd thro';
A sparrow's horn; a priest unborn,
This night to join us twa;
Or I'll nae lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'." 120

"My father he has winter fruit
That in December grew;
My mither has an Indian gown,
That waft was ne'er ca'd thro';
A sparrow's horn is quickly found; 125
There's ane on every claw;
There's ane upon the neb o' him;
Perhaps there may be twa.

"The priest he's standing at the door,
Just ready to come in; 130
Nae man can say that he was born,
To lie it were a sin;
A wild bore tore his mither's side,
He out o' it did fa';
Then we'll baith lie in ae bed, 135
And thou's lie neist the wa'."

Little kend Girzy Sinclair
That morning whan she raise,
That this wad be the hindermaist
O' a' her maiden days; 140
But now there's nae within the realm,
I think, a blyther twa;
And they baith lie in ae bed,
And she lies neist the wa'.

78. The peasants in Scotland say that the dove that was sent out of the Ark by Noah flew till she burst her gall, and that no dove since that time ever had a gall. J.

LAY THE BENT TO THE BONNY BROOM.

From Durfey's _Pills to Purge Melancholy_, iv. 129, with the title _A Riddle wittily expounded_. The same in Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 155, and in The Borderer's Table Book, vii. 83. A fragment of this ballad, called _The Three Sisters_, is printed in Gilbert's _Ancient Christmas Carols_, (2d ed.) p. 65, and has a different burden. It begins

There were three sisters fair and bright,
_Jennifer gentle and Rosemaree_,
And they three loved one valiant knight,
_As the dew flies over the mulberry tree_.

* * * * *

There was a lady in the North-country,
_Lay the bent to the bonny broom_,
And she had lovely daughters three,
_Fa, la la la, fa, la la la ra re_.

There was a knight of noble worth,
Which also lived at the North.

The knight, of courage stout and brave, 5
A wife he did desire to have.

He knocked at the lady's gate,
One evening when it was late.

The eldest sister let him in,[L9]
And pinn'd the door with a silver pin. 10

The second sister, she made his bed,
And laid soft pillows under his head.

The youngest [sister] that same night,
She went to bed to this young knight.

And in the morning when it was day, 15
These words unto him she did say.

"Now you have had your will," quoth she,
"I pray, Sir Knight, you marry me."

This young brave knight to her reply'd.
"Thy suit, fair maid, shall not be deny'd, 20

"If thou canst answer me questions three,
This very day will I marry thee."

"Kind sir, in love, O then," quoth she,
"Tell me what your three questions be."

"O what is longer than the way?[L25] 25
Or what is deeper than the sea?

"Or what is louder than a horn?
Or what is sharper than a thorn?

"Or what is greener than the grass?
Or what is worse than a woman was?" 30

"O love is longer than the way,
And hell is deeper than the sea.

"And thunder's louder than the horn,
And hunger's sharper than a thorn.

"And poyson's greener than the grass,[L35] 35
And the devil's worse than the woman was."

When she these questions answered had,
The knight became exceeding glad.

And having truly try'd her wit,
He much commended her for it. 40

And after, as 'tis verified,
He made of her his lovely bride.

So now, fair maidens all, adieu;
This song I dedicate to you.

I wish that you may constant prove 45
Unto the man that you do love.

9. youngest.

25. i.e. the milky way.

35. "_Vergris_ is greener than the grass." _C. W.'s Courtship_, v. 97.

KING EDWARD FOURTH AND THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH.

The next two ballads belong to a class of tales extremely numerous in England, in which the sovereign is represented as conversing on terms of good fellowship with one of his humbler subjects who is unacquainted with the royal person. In several of the best of these stories, the monarch is benighted in the forest, and obliged to demand hospitality of the first man he meets. He is at first viewed with suspicion and treated with rudeness, but soon wins favor by his affability and good humor, and is invited to partake of a liberal supper, composed in part of his own venison. In due time the king reveals his true character to his astonished and mortified host, who looks to be punished alike for his familiarity and for deer-stealing, but is pardoned for both, and even handsomely rewarded for his entertainment.

The earliest of these stories seems to be that of King Alfred and the Neatherd, in which the herdsman's wife plays the offending part, and the peasant himself is made Bishop of Winchester. Others of very considerable antiquity are the tales of Henry II. and the Cistercian Abbot in the _Speculum Ecclesiæ_ of Giraldus Cambrensis, (an. 1220,) printed in _Reliquiæ Antiquæ_, i. 147; _King Edward and the Shepherd_, and _The King_ [Edward] _and the Hermit_, in Hartshorne's _Metrical Tales_, (p. 35, p. 293, the latter previously in _The British Bibliographer_, iv. 81;) _Rauf Coilzear, how he harbreit King Charlis_, in Laing's _Select Remains; John the Reeve_, an unprinted piece in the Percy MS., founded on an adventure between King Edward I. and one of his bailiffs, which is highly commended by Dr. Percy "for its genuine humor, diverting incidents, and faithful picture of rustic manners;" and _The King and the Barker_, the original of the present ballad. (See also the seventh and eighth fits of the _Little Gest of Robin Hood_.) More recent specimens are the two pieces here given, and others mentioned by Percy: _King Henry and the Soldier_, _King Henry VIII. and the Cobbler_, _King James I. and the Tinker_, _King William and the Forester, &c._ It is obvious that a legend of immemorial antiquity has been transferred by successive minstrels or story-tellers to the reigning monarch of their own times. An anecdote of the same character is related by Mr. Wright of Prince George of Denmark, and a poor artisan of Bristol, (_Essays_, ii. 172.)

The meeting of King Richard with Friar Tuck in Ivanhoe, was suggested by the tale of _King Edward and the Hermit_. "The general tone of the story," says Scott, "belongs to all ranks and to all countries, which emulate each other in describing the rambles of a disguised sovereign, who, going in search of information or amusement into the lower ranks of life, meets with adventures diverting to the reader or hearer, from the contrast betwixt the monarch's outward appearance and his real character. The Eastern tale-teller has for his theme the disguised expeditions of Haroun Alraschid, with his faithful attendants Mesrour and Giafar, through the midnight streets of Bagdad, and Scottish tradition dwells upon the similar exploits of James V., distinguished during such excursions by the travelling name of the Goodman of Ballengeigh, as the Commander of the Faithful, when he desired to be _incognito_, was known by that of Il Bondocani."

_The King and the Barker_ is printed in Ritson's _Anc. Pop. Poetry_, p. 61; the modern ballad of _King Alfred and the Shepherd_, in _Old Ballads_, i. 41; _King James and the Tinkler_, in Richardson's _Borderer's Table Book_, vii. 8, and in the Percy Soc. Publications, vol. xvii., _Ancient Poems, &c._ p. 109.

"The following text is selected (with such other corrections as occurred) from two copies in black letter. The one in the Bodleian library, entitled _A merrie, pleasant, and delectable historie betweene King Edward the Fourth, and a Tanner of Tamworth, &c._, printed at London by John Danter, 1596. This copy, ancient as it now is, appears to have been modernized and altered at the time it was published; and many vestiges of the more ancient readings were recovered from another copy (though more recently printed) in one sheet folio, without date, in the Pepys collection." PERCY'S _Reliques_, ii. 87.

The old copies, according to Ritson, contain a great many stanzas which Percy "has not injudiciously suppressed." _King_ Henry _the Fourth and the Tanner of Tamworth_ stands in the _Registers of the Stationers' Company_, as licensed in 1564-5. The Tanner of Tamworth is introduced into the First Part of Heywood's play of _Edward the Fourth_.

In summer time, when leaves grow greene,
And blossoms bedecke the tree,
King Edward wolde a hunting ryde,
Some pastime for to see.

With hawke and hounde he made him bowne, 5
With horne, and eke with bowe;
To Drayton Basset he tooke his waye,
With all his lordes a rowe.

And he had ridden ore dale and downe
By eight of clocke in the day, 10
When he was ware of a bold tannèr,
Come ryding along the waye.

A fayre russet coat the tanner had on,
Fast buttoned under his chin,
And under him a good cow-hide, 15
And a mare of four shilling.[L16]

"Nowe stande you still, my good lordes all,
Under the grene wood spraye;
And I will wend to yonder fellowe,
To weet what he will saye. 20

"God speede, God speede thee," sayd our king,
"Thou art welcome, sir," sayd hee;
"The readyest waye to Drayton Basset
I praye thee to shewe to mee."

"To Drayton Basset woldst thou goe 25
Fro the place where thou dost stand,
The next payre of gallowes thou comest unto,
Turne in upon thy right hand."

"That is an unreadye waye," sayd our king,
"Thou doest but jest I see; 30
Nowe shewe me out the nearest waye,
And I pray thee wend with mee."

"Awaye with a vengeance!" quoth the tanner:
"I hold thee out of thy witt:
All daye have I rydden on Brocke my mare, 35
And I am fasting yett."

"Go with me downe to Drayton Basset,
No daynties we will spare;
All daye shalt thou eate and drinke of the best,
And I will paye thy fare." 40

"Gramercye for nothing," the tanner replyde,
"Thou payest no fare of mine:
I trowe I've more nobles in my purse,
Than thou hast pence in thine."

"God give thee joy of them," sayd the king, 45
"And send them well to priefe;"
The tanner wolde faine have beene away,
For he weende he had beene a thiefe.

"What art thou," hee sayde, "thou fine fellòwe?
Of thee I am in great feare; 50
For the cloathes thou wearest upon thy backe
Might beseeme a lord to weare."

"I never stole them," quoth our king,
"I tell you, sir, by the roode;"
"Then thou playest, as many an unthrift doth, 55
And standest in midds of thy goode."[L56]

"What tydinges heare you," sayd the kynge,
"As you ryde farre and neare?"
"I heare no tydinges, sir, by the masse,
But that cowe-hides are deare." 60

"Cowe-hides! cowe-hides! what things are those?
I marvell what they bee?"
"What, art thou a foole?" the tanner reply'd;
"I carry one under mee."

"What craftsman art thou?" sayd the king; 65
"I praye thee tell me trowe:"
"l am a barker, sir, by my trade;
Nowe tell me what art thou?"

"I am a poore courtier, sir," quoth he,
"That am forth of service worne; 70
And faine I wolde thy prentise bee,
Thy cunninge for to learne."

"Marrye heaven forfend," the tanner replyde,
"That thou my prentise were;
Thou woldst spend more good than I shold winne
By fortye shilling a yere." 76

"Yet one thinge wolde I," sayd our king,
"If thou wilt not seeme strange;
Thoughe my horse be better than thy mare,
Yet with thee I faine wold change." 80

"Why if with me thou faine wilt change,
As change full well maye wee,
By the faith of my bodye, thou proude fellòwe,
I will have some boot of thee."

"That were against reason," sayd the king, 85
"I sweare, so mote I thee;
My horse is better than thy mare,
And that thou well mayst see."

"Yea, sir, but Brocke is gentle and mild,
And softly she will fare; 90
Thy horse is unrulye and wild, i-wiss,
Aye skipping here and theare."

"What boote wilt thou have?" our king reply'd;
"Now tell me in this stound;"
"Noe pence, nor half-pence, by my faye, 95
But a noble in gold so round."

"Here's twentye groates of white moneyè,
Sith thou wilt have it of mee;"
"I would have sworne now," quoth the tanner,
"Thou hadst not had one penniè. 100

"But since we two have made a change,
A change we must abide;
Although thou hast gotten Brocke my mare,
Thou gettest not my cowe-hide."

"I will not have it," sayd the kynge, 105
"I sweare, so mought I thee;
Thy foule cowe-hide I wolde not beare,
If thou woldst give it to mee."

The tanner hee tooke his good cowe-hide,
That of the cow was hilt, 110
And threwe it upon the king's sadèlle,
That was soe fayrelye gilte.

"Now help me up, thou fine fellòwe,
'Tis time that I were gone;
When I come home to Gyllian my wife, 115
Sheel say I am a gentilmon."

The king he tooke him up by the legge,
The tanner a f** lett fall;
"Nowe marrye, good fellowe," sayd the kyng,
"Thy courtesye is but small." 120

When the tanner he was in the kinges sadèlle,
And his foote in his stirrup was,
He marvelled greatlye in his minde,
Whether it were golde or brass.

But when his steede saw the cows taile wagge, 125
And eke the blacke cowe-horne,
He stamped, and stared, and awaye he ranne,
As the devill had him borne.

The tanner he pulld, the tanner he sweat,
And held by the pummil fast; 130
At length the tanner came tumbling downe,
His necke he had well-nye brast.

"Take thy horse again with a vengeance," he sayd,
"With mee he shall not byde;"
"My horse wolde have borne thee well enoughe, 135
But he knewe not of thy cowe-hide.

"Yet if againe thou faine woldst change,
As change full well may wee,
By the faith of my bodye, thou jolly tannèr,
I will have some boote of thee." 140

"What boote wilt thou have?" the tanner replyd,
"Nowe tell me in this stounde;
"Noe pence nor half-pence, sir, by my faye,
But I will have twentye pound."

"Here's twentye groates out of my purse, 145
And twentye I have of thine;
And I have one more, which we will spend
Together at the wine."

The king set a bugle horne to his mouthe,
And blewe both loude and shrille; 150
And soone came lords, and soone came knights,
Fast ryding over the hille.

"Nowe, out alas," the tanner he cryde,
"That ever I sawe this daye!
Thou art a strong thiefe; yon come thy fellowes 155
Will beare my cowe-hide away."

"They are no thieves," the king replyde,
"I sweare, soe mote I thee;
But they are lords of the north country,
Here come to hunt with mee." 160

And soone before our king they came,
And knelt downe on the grounde;
Then might the tanner have beene awaye,
He had lever than twentye pounde.

"A coller, a coller, here," sayd the king, 165
"A coller," he loud gan crye;
Then woulde he lever then twentye pound,
He had not beene so nighe.

"A coller! a coller!" the tanner he sayd,
"I trowe it will breed sorrowe; 170
After a coller commeth a halter;
I trow I shall be hang'd to-morrowe."

"Be not afraid, tanner," said our king;
"I tell thee, so mought I thee,
Lo here I make thee the best esquire 175
That is in the North countrie.[L176]

"For Plumpton-parke I will give thee,
With tenements faire beside,--
'Tis worth three hundred markes by the yeare,--
To maintaine thy good cow-hide." 180

"Gramercye, my liege," the tanner replyde;
"For the favour thou hast me showne,
If ever thou comest to merry Tamwòrth,
Neates leather shall clout thy shoen."

16. In the reign of Edward IV. Dame Cecill, lady of Torboke, in her will dated March 7, A.D. 1466, among many other bequests, has this: "Also I will that my sonne Thomas of Torboke have 13_s._ 4_d._ to buy him an horse." Vide Harleian Catalogue, 2176, 27.--Now if 13_s._ 4_d._ would purchase a steed fit for a person of quality, a tanner's horse might reasonably be valued at four or five shillings.--PERCY.

56. i. e. hast no other wealth, but what thou carriest about thee.--PERCY.

176. This stanza is restored from a quotation of this ballad in Selden's _Titles of Honour_, who produces it as a good authority to prove, that one mode of creating Esquires at that time, was by the imposition of a collar. His words are, "Nor is that old pamphlet of the Tanner of Tamworth and King Edward the Fourth so contemptible, but that wee may thence note also an observable passage, wherein the use of making Esquires, by giving collars, is expressed." (Sub. Tit. Esquire; & vide in Spelmanni _Glossar. Armiger._) This form of creating Esquires actually exists at this day among the Sergeants at Arms, who are invested with a collar (which they wear on Collar Days) by the King himself.

This information I owe to Samuel Pegge, Esq., to whom the public is indebted for that curious work, the _Curialia_, 4to.--PERCY.

THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD.

"The following is printed, with corrections from the Editor's folio MS. collated with an old black-letter copy in the Pepys collection, entitled _A pleasant ballad of King Henry II. and the Miller of Mansfield, &c._"--PERCY's _Reliques_, iii. 22.

Other copies, slightly different, in _A Collection of Old Ballads_, i. 53, and Ritson's _Ancient Songs_, ii. 173.