A squire new-come from over-sea Boncoeur called to him privily, And when he knew his lord's intent, Clad like a churl therefrom he went _Deus est Deus pauperum._

But when he came where dwelt Maltete, With few words did he pa.s.s the gate, For Maltete built him walls anew, And, wageless, folk from field he drew.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

Now pa.s.sed the squire through this and that, Till he came to where Sir Maltete sat, And over red wine wagged his beard: Then spoke the squire as one afeard.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"Lord, give me grace, for privily I have a little word for thee."

"Speak out," said Maltete, "have no fear, For how can thy life to thee be dear?"

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"Such an one I know," he said, "Who hideth store of money red."

Maltete grinned at him cruelly: "Thou florin-maker, come anigh."

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"E'en such as thou once preached of gold, And showed me lies in books full old, Nought gat I but evil bra.s.s, Therefore came he to the worser pa.s.s."

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"Hast thou will to see his skin?

I keep my heaviest marks therein, For since nought else of wealth had he, I deemed full well he owed it me."

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"Nought know I of philosophy,"

The other said, "nor do I lie.

Before the moon begins to shine, May all this heap of gold be thine."

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"Ten leagues from this a man there is, Who seemeth to know but little bliss, And yet full many a pound of gold A dry well nigh his house doth hold."

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"John-a-Wood is he called, fair lord, Nor know I whence he hath this h.o.a.rd."

Then Maltete said, "As G.o.d made me, A wizard over-bold is he!"

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"It were a good deed, as I am a knight, To burn him in a fire bright; This John-a-Wood shall surely die, And his gold in my strong chest shall lie."

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"This very night, I make mine avow.

The truth of this mine eyes shall know."

Then spoke an old knight in the hall, "Who knoweth what things may befall?"

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"I rede thee go with a great rout, For thy foes they ride thick about."

"Thou and the devil may keep my foes, Thou redest me this gold to lose."

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"I shall go with but some four or five, So shall I take my thief alive.

For if a great rout he shall see, Will he not hide his wealth from me?"

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

The old knight muttered under his breath, "Then mayhap ye shall but ride to death."

But Maltete turned him quickly round, "Bind me this grey-beard under ground!"

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"Because ye are old, ye think to j.a.pe.

Take heed, ye shall not long escape.

When I come back safe, old carle, perdie, Thine head shall brush the linden-tree."

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

Therewith he rode with his five men, And Boncoeur's spy, for good leagues ten, Until they left the beaten way, And dusk it grew at end of day.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

There, in a clearing of the wood, Was John's house, neither fair nor good.

In a ragged plot his house anigh, Thin coleworts grew but wretchedly.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

John-a-Wood in his doorway sat, Turning over this and that, And chiefly how he best might thrive, For he had will enough to live.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

Green coleworts from a wooden bowl He ate; but careful was his soul, For if he saw another day, Thenceforth was he in Boncoeur's pay.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

So when he saw how Maltete came, He said, "Beginneth now the game!"

And in the doorway did he stand Trembling, with hand joined fast to hand.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

When Maltete did this carle behold Somewhat he doubted of his gold, But cried out, "Where is now thy store Thou hast through books of wicked lore?"

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

Then said the poor man, right humbly, "Fair lord, this was not made by me, I found it in mine own dry well, And had a mind thy grace to tell.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"Therefrom, my lord, a cup I took This day, that thou thereon mightst look, And know me to be leal and true,"

And from his coat the cup he drew.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

Then Maltete took it in his hand, Nor knew he aught that it used to stand On Boncoeur's cupboard many a day.

"Go on," he said, "and show the way.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

"Give me thy gold, and thou shalt live, Yea, in my house thou well mayst thrive."

John turned about and 'gan to go Unto the wood with footsteps slow.

_Deus est Deus pauperum._

But as they pa.s.sed by John's woodstack, Growled Maltete, "Nothing now doth lack Wherewith to light a merry fire, And give my wizard all his hire."

_Deus est Deus pauperum._