Book of Old Ballads | Page 9

be a batchelor,?His bodye He give to thee;?But if he be a married man,?High hanged he shall bee.
He called downe his merrye men all,?By one, by two, by three;?Sir William used to bee the first,?But nowe the last came hee.
He brought her downe full fortye pounde,?Tyed up withinne a glove:?Faire maide, He give the same to thee;?Go, seeke thee another love.
O Ile have none of your gold, she sayde,?Nor Ile have none of your fee;?But your faire bodye I must have,?The king hath granted mee.
Sir William ranne and fetched her then?Five hundred pound in golde,?Saying, faire maide, take this to thee,?Thy fault will never be tolde.
Tis not the gold that shall mee tempt,?These words then answered shee,?But your own bodye I must have,?The king hath granted mee.
Would I had dranke the water cleare,?When I did drinke the wine,?Rather than any shepherds brat?Shold bee a ladye of mine!
Would I had drank the puddle foule,?When I did drink the ale,?Rather than ever a shepherds brat?Shold tell me such a tale!
A shepherds brat even as I was,?You mote have let me bee,?I never had come to the kings faire courte,?To crave any love of thee.
He sett her on a milk-white steede,?And himself upon a graye;?He hung a bugle about his necke,?And soe they rode awaye.
But when they came unto the place,?Where marriage-rites were done,?She proved herself a dukes daught��r,?And he but a squires sonne.
Now marrye me, or not, sir knight,?Your pleasure shall be free:?If you make me ladye of one good towne,?He make you lord of three.
Ah! cursed bee the gold, he sayd,?If thou hadst not been trewe,?I shold have forsaken my sweet love,?And have changed her for a newe.
And now their hearts being linked fast,?They joyned hand in hande:?Thus he had both purse, and person too,?And all at his commande.
KING ESTMERE
Hearken to me, gentlemen,?Come and you shall heare;?Ile tell you of two of the boldest brethren?That ever borne y-were.
The tone of them was Adler younge,?The tother was kyng Estmere;?The were as bolde men in their deeds,?As any were farr and neare.
As they were drinking ale and wine?Within kyng Estmeres halle:?When will ye marry a wyfe, broth��r,?A wyfe to glad us all?
Then bespake him kyng Estmere,?And answered him hastilee:?I know not that ladye in any land?That's able to marrye with mee.
Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother,?Men call her bright and sheene;?If I were kyng here in your stead,?That ladye shold be my queene.
Saies, Reade me, reade me, deare brother,?Throughout merry Engl��nd,?Where we might find a messenger?Betwixt us towe to sende.
Saies, You shal ryde yourselfe, broth��r,?Ile beare you companye;?Many throughe fals messengers are deceived,?And I feare lest soe shold wee.
Thus the renisht them to ryde?Of twoe good renisht steeds,?And when the came to kyng Adlands halle,?Of redd gold shone their weeds.
And when the came to kyng Adlands hall?Before the goodlye gate,?There they found good kyng Adl��nd?Rearing himselfe theratt.
Now Christ thee save, good kyng Adland;?Now Christ you save and see.?Sayd, You be welcome, kyng Estmere,?Right hartilye to mee.
You have a daughter, said Adler younge,?Men call her bright and sheene,?My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe,?Of Englande to be queene.
Yesterday was att my deere daughter?Syr Bremor the kyng of Spayne;?And then she nicked him of naye,?And I doubt sheele do you the same.
The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim,?And 'leeveth on Mahound;?And pitye it were that fayre ladye?Shold marrye a heathen hound.
But grant to me, sayes kyng Estmere,?For my love I you praye;?That I may see your daughter deere?Before I goe hence awaye.
Although itt is seven yeers and more?Since my daughter was in halle,?She shall come once downe for your sake?To glad my guestes alle.
Downe then came that mayden fayre,?With ladyes laced in pall,?And halfe a hundred of bold knightes,?To bring her from bowre to hall;?And as many gentle squiers,?To tend upon them all.
The talents of golde were on her head sette,?Hanged low downe to her knee;?And everye ring on her small fing��r?Shone of the chrystall free.
Saies, God you save, my deere madam;?Saies, God you save and see.?Said, You be welcome, kyng Estmere,?Right welcome unto mee.
And if you love me, as you saye,?Soe well and hartilye,?All that ever you are comin about?Sooner sped now itt shal bee.
Then bespake her father deare:?My daughter, I saye naye;?Remember well the kyng of Spayne,?What he sayd yesterday.
He wold pull downe my hales and castles,
And reeve me of my life.?I cannot blame him if he doe,
If I reave him of his wyfe.
Your castles and your towres, father,
Are stronglye built aboute;?And therefore of the king of Spaine
Wee neede not stande in doubt.
Plight me your troth, nowe, kyng Estm��re,
By heaven and your righte hand,?That you will marrye me to your wyfe,
And make me queene of your land.
Then kyng Estmere he plight his troth
By heaven and his righte hand,?That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe,
And make her queene of his land.
And