The Book of Brave Old Ballads Part 21

What pen can paint king Pepin's joy, His sister thus restor'd!

And soon a messenger was sent To cheer her drooping lord:

Who came in haste with all his peers, To fetch her home to Greece; Where many happy years they reign'd In perfect love and peace.

To them sir Ursine did succeed, And long the sceptre bear.

Sir Valentine he stay'd in France, And was his uncle's heir.

FOOTNOTES:

[132] _i.e._ A lake that served for a moat to a castle.

THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD.

PART THE FIRST.

Henry, our royal king, would ride a hunting To the green forest, so pleasant and fair; To see the harts skipping, and dainty does tripping: Unto merry Sherwood his n.o.bles repair: Hawk and hound were unbound, all things prepar'd For the game, in the same, with good regard.

All a long summer's day rode the king pleasantly, With all his princes and n.o.bles each one; Chasing the hart and hind, and the buck gallantly, Till the dark evening forc'd all to turn home.

Then at last, riding fast, he had lost quite All his lords in the wood, late in the night.

Wandering thus wearily, all alone, up and down, With a rude miller he met at the last: Asking the ready way unto fair Nottingham; Sir, quoth the miller, I mean not to jest, Yet I think, what I think, sooth for to say, You do not lightly ride out of your way.

Why, what dost thou think of me, quoth our king merrily, Pa.s.sing thy judgment upon me so brief?

Good faith, said the miller, I mean not to flatter thee; I guess thee to be but some gentleman thief; Stand thee back, in the dark; light not adown, Lest that I presently crack thy knave's crown.

Thou dost abuse me much, quoth the king, saying thus; I am a gentleman; lodging I lack.

Thou hast not, quoth th' miller, one groat in thy purse; All thy inheritance hangs on thy back.

I have gold to discharge all that I call;[133]

If it be forty pence, I will pay all.

If thou beest a true man, then quoth the miller, I swear by my toll-dish, I'll lodge thee all night.

Here's my hand, quoth the king; that was I ever.

Nay, soft, quoth the miller, thou may'st be a sprite.

Better I'll know thee, ere hands we will shake; With none but honest men hands will I take.

Thus they went all along unto the miller's house: Where they were seething of puddings and souse: The miller first enter'd in; after him went the king; Never came he in so smoky a house.

Now, quoth he, let me see here what you are.

Quoth our king, look your fill, and do not spare.

I like well thy countenance; thou hast an honest face; With my son Richard this night thou shalt lie.

Quoth his wife, by my troth, it is a handsome youth; Yet it's best, husband, to deal warily.

Art thou no runaway, prythee, youth, tell?

Show me thy pa.s.sport, and all shall be well.

Then our king presently, making low courtesy, With his hat in his hand, thus he did say; I have no pa.s.sport, nor never was servitor, But a poor courtier, rode out of my way: And for your kindness here offered to me, I will requite you in every degree.

Then to the miller his wife whispered secretly, Saying, It seemeth this youth's of good kin, Both by his apparel, and eke by his manners; To turn him out, certainly, were a great sin.

Yea, quoth he, you may see he hath some grace When he doth speak to his betters in place.

Well, quo' the miller's wife, young man, ye're welcome here; And, though I say it, well lodged shall be: Fresh straw will I have laid on thy bed so brave, And good brown hempen sheets likewise, quoth she.

Aye, quoth the good man; and when that is done, Thou shalt lie with no worse than our own son.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE KING AND THE MILLER OF MANSFIELD.]

This caus'd the king, suddenly, to laugh most heartily, Till the tears trickled fast down from his eyes.

Then to their supper were they set orderly, With hot bag-puddings and good apple-pies; Nappy ale, good and stale, in a brown bowl, Which did about the board merrily trowl.

Here, quoth the miller, good fellow, I drink to thee, And to all courtiers, wherever they be.

I pledge thee, quoth our king, and thank thee heartily For my welcome in every good degree: And here, in like manner, I drink to thy son.

Do then, quoth Richard, and quick let it come.

Wife, quoth the miller, fetch me forth lightfoot, And of his sweetness a little we'll taste.

A fair ven'son pasty brought she out presently.

Eat, quoth the miller, but, sir, make no waste.

Here's dainty lightfoot! In faith, said the king, I never before eat so dainty a thing.

I wis, quoth Richard, no dainty at all it is, For we do eat of it every day.

In what place, said our king, may be bought like to this?

We never pay penny for it, by my fay: From merry Sherwood we fetch it home here; Now and then we make bold with our king's deer.

Then I think, said our king, that it is venison.

Each fool, quoth Richard, full well may know that: Never are we without two or three in the roof, Very well fleshed, and excellent fat: But, prythee, say nothing wherever thou go; We would not, for two pence, the king should it know.

Doubt not, then said the king, my promised secrecy; The king shall never know more on't for me.

A cup of lambs-wool[134] they drank unto him then, And to their beds they pa.s.sed presently.

The n.o.bles, next morning, went all up and down, For to seek out the king in every town.

At last, at the miller's cot, soon they espy'd him out, As he was mounting upon his fair steed; To whom they came presently, falling down on their knee; Which made the miller's heart wofully bleed; Shaking and quaking, before him he stood, Thinking he should have been hang'd, by the Rood.

The king perceiving him fearfully trembling Drew forth his sword, but nothing he said: The miller down did fall, crying before them all, Doubting the king would cut off his head.

But he, his kind courtesy for to requite, Gave him great living, and dubb'd him a knight.

PART THE SECOND.

When as our royal king came home from Nottingham, And with his n.o.bles at Westminster lay; Recounting the sports and pastimes they had taken, In this late progress along on the way; Of them all, great and small, he did protest, The miller of Mansfield's sport liked him best.

And now, my lords, quoth the king, I am determined Against St. George's next sumptuous feast, That this old miller, our new confirmed knight, With his son Richard, shall here be my guest: For, in this merriment, 'tis my desire To talk with the jolly knight, and the young squire.

When as the n.o.ble lords saw the king's pleasantness, They were right joyful and glad in their hearts: A pursuivant there was sent straight on the business, The which had oftentimes been in those parts.

When he came to the place, where they did dwell, His message orderly then 'gan he tell.

G.o.d save your wors.h.i.+p, then said the messenger, And grant your lady her own heart's desire; And to your son Richard good fortune and happiness; That sweet, gentle, and gallant young squire.

Our king greets you well, and thus he doth say, You must come to the court on St. George's day.