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ANCIENT POE M S.

God give thee joy of them, fayd the king,
And fend them well to priefe.
The tanner wolde faine have beene away,
For he weende he had beene a thiefe.

What art thou, hee fayde, thou fine fellòwe,

Of thee I am in great feare,

For the cloathes, thou weareft upon thy backe,
Might befeeme a lord to weare.

I never ftole them, quoth our king,

I tell you, fir, by the roode.

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"Then thou playeft, as many an unthrift doth, 55
And ftandeft in midds of thy goode t."

What tydinges heare you, fayd the kynge,
As you ryde farre and neare ?

"I heare no tydinges, fir, by the maffe,

But that cowe-hides are deare,"

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"Cowe-hides! cowe-hides! what things are thofe ?

I marvell what they bee ?"

What art thou a foole? the tanner reply'd;

I carry one under mee.

ti. e. haft no other wealth, but what thou carrieft about thee.

i. e. a dealer in Bark.

I am a poore courtier, fir, quoth he,
That am forth of fervice worne;
And faine I wolde thy prentise bee,

Thy cunninge for to learne.

Marrye heaven forfend, the tanner replyde,
That thou my prentise were ;

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Thou woldft spend more good than I shold winne 75 By fortye fhilling a yere.

Yet one thinge wolde I, fayd our king,

If thou wilt not feeme ftrange :

Thoughe my horse be better than thy mare,
Yet with thee I faine wold change.

"Why if with me thou faine wilt change, As change full well maye wee,

By the faith of my bodye, thou proude fellowe,

I will have fome boot of thee."

That were against reason, 'fayd the king,

I fweare, fo mote I thee:

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My horfe is better than thy mare,

And that thou well mayft fee.

"Yea, fir, but Brocke is gentle and mild,

And foftly she will fare:

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Thy horse is unrulye and wild, I wiss ;

Aye skipping here and theare."

What

ANCIENT POEMS.

What boote wilt thou have? our king reply'd;

Now tell me in this ftound.

"Noe pence, nor half pence, by my faye,

But a noble in gold fo round."

"Here's twentye groates of white moneyè,

Sith thou will have it of mee."

I would have fworne now, quoth the tanner,
Thou hadst not had one penniè.

But fince we two have made a change,

A change we must abide,

Although thou haft gotten Brocke my mare,

Thou getteft not my cowe-hide.

I will not have it, fayd the kynge,

I fweare, fo mote I thee;

Thy foule cowe-hide I wolde not beare,

If thou woldft give it to mee.

The tanner hee tooke his good cowe-hide,

That of the cow was hilt;

And threwe it upon the king's fadèlle,

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That was foe fayrelye gilte.

"Now help me up, thou fine fellòwe,

'Tis time that I were gone :

When I come home to Gyllian, my wife,
Sheel fay I am a gentilmon."

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The king he tooke him up by the legge;

The tanner a f** lett fall.

Nowe marrye, good fellowe, fayd the kyng,
Thy courtefye is but small.

When the tanner he was in the kinges fadèlle,

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But when his fteede faw the cows taile wagge, 125
And eke the blacke cowe-horne ;

He ftamped, and ftared, and awaye he ranne,
As the devill had him borne.

The tanner he pulld, the tanner he sweat,

And held by the pummil faft:

At length the tanner came tumbling downe;
His necke he had well-nye braft.

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Take thy horfe again with a vengeance, he sayd, With mee he shall not byde.

"My horfe wolde have borne thee well enoughe, 135 But he knewe not of thy cowe-hide.

'Yet if againe thou faine woldt change,

As change full well may wee,

By the faith of my bodye, thou jolly tannèr,

I will have fome boote of thee."

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What

ANCIENT POEMS.

What boote wilt thou have, the tanner replyd,

Nowe tell me in this ftounde?

"Noe pence nor halfpence, fir, by my faye,

But I will have twentye pound."

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"Here's twentye groates out of my purfe; 145

And twentye I have of thine :

And I have one more, which we will spend
Together at the wine."

The king fet a bugle horne to his mouthe,

And blewe both loude and fhrille:

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And foone came lords, and foone came knights, Faft ryding over the hille.

Nowe, out alas! the tanner he cryde,

That ever I fawe this daye!

Thou art a ftrong thiefe, yon come thy fellowes 155 Will beare my cowe-hide away.

They are no thieves, the king replyde,

I sweare, foe mote I thee:

But they are the lords of the north countrèy,

Here come to hunt with mee.

And foone before our king they came,

And knelt downe on the grounde:

Then might the tanner have beene awaye,

He had lever than twentye pounde.

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