And therefor now, in railing fort, She thruft him out of door : Which is the juft reward they get, That spend upon a whore. Oh! do me not this foul disgrace, And to the conftable fhe went, When Barnwel faw her drift, To fea he got straightway; Where fear, and dread, and confcience fting, Unto the mayor of London then, He did a letter write; Wherein his own and Sarahs faults He did at large recite. Whereby fhe apprehended was, And then to Ludlow fent : Where he was judg'd, condemn'd, and hang'd, And And there this gallant quean did die, This was her greatest gains : Was Barnwel hang'd in chains. Lo! here's the end of wilful youth, BALLAD XV. KING HENRY THE SECOND AND THE MILLER OF HE MANSFIELD. ENRY our royal king, would ride a hunting, Hawk and hound was unbound, all things prepar'd All a long fummers day rode the king pleasantly, Wand'ring Wand'ring thus wearily, all alone, up and down, Sir, quoth the miller, your way you have loft: Why, what doft thou think of me? quoth our king merrily, Paffing thy judgement upon me fo brief: Good faith, quoth the miller, I mean not to flatter thee; Stand thee back, in the dark; light thee not down, Thou doft abuse me much, quoth our king, faying thus: › I am a gentleman, and lodging I lack. Thou haft not, quoth the miller, one groat in thy purfe; All thy inheritance hangs on thy back. "I have gold to discharge all that I call ; If it be forty pence, I will pay all." If thou beeft a true man, then faid the miller, I fwear by my toll-dish, I'll lodge thee all night. Here's my hand, quoth the king, that was I ever. Nay, foft, quoth the miller, thou may'st be a sprite : Better I'll know thee, ere hands I do take; With none but honeft men hands will I shake. VOL. II. T Thus Thus they went all along unto the millers house, Where they were feething of puddings and foufe: Now, quoth he, let me fee here what you are. ́" I like well thy countenance, thou haft an honest face ; Art thou not a run-away, I pray thee, youth, tell? Then our king presently, making low courtesy, I have no passport, nor never was fervitor ; Then to the miller his wife whisper'd fecretly, To turn him out, certainly 'twere a great fin. Well, Well, quoth the millers wife, young man, welcome here, Good brown hempen sheets likewife, quoth the. Nay, firft, quoth Richard, good fellow, tell me true; Or art thou not troubled with the scabado ? I pray you, quoth the king, what things are those ? Art thou not loufy, nor fcabby? quoth he; If thou be'ft, furely thou lieft not with me. This caus'd the king fuddenly to laugh moft heartily, Here, quoth the miller, good fellow, I drink to thee, I'll pledge you, quoth our king, and thank you heartily, And here, in like manner, I'll drink to your fon. Do fo, quoth Richard; but quick let it come. |