What boot wilt thou have, the tanner replied, Now tell me in this stound?[94]

No pence, nor half-pence, sir, by my faith, But I will have twenty pound.

[Ill.u.s.tration: KING EDWARD IV. AND THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH.]

Here's twenty groats out of my purse; And twenty I have of thine: And I have one more, which we will spend Together at the wine.

The king set a bugle horn to his mouth, And blew both loud and shrill: And soon came lords, and soon came knights, Fast riding over the hill.

Now, out alas! the tanner he cried, That ever I saw this day!

Thou art a strong thief, yon come thy fellows Will bear my cow-hide away.

They are no thieves, the king replied, I swear, so mote I thee: But they are the lords of the north country, Here come to hunt with me.

And soon before our king they came, And knelt down on the ground: Then might the tanner have been away, He had lever[95] than twenty pound.

A collar, a collar, here: said the king, A collar he loud 'gan cry: Then would he lever than twenty pound, He had not been so nigh.

A collar, a collar, the tanner he said, I trow it will breed sorrow: After a collar cometh a halter, I trow I shall be hang'd to-morrow.

Be not afraid, tanner, said our king; I tell thee, so mote I thee, Lo here I make thee the best esquire That is in the north country.

For Plumpton-park I will give thee, With tenements fair beside: 'Tis worth three hundred marks by the year, To maintain thy good cow-hide.

Gramercy, my liege, the tanner replied, For the favour thou hast me shown: If ever thou comest to merry Tamwrth, Neat's[96] leather shall clout thy shoen.[97]

FOOTNOTES:

[85] Ready.

[86] A shilling was a large sum in those days.

[87] Know.

[88] Prove.

[89] _i.e._ Hast no other wealth but what thou carriest about thee.

[90] A dealer in bark.

[91] May I thrive.

[92] Flayed.

[93] Broken.

[94] Time.

[95] Rather.

[96] Cow's.

[97] Mend thy shoes.

THE HEIR OF LINNE.

PART THE FIRST.

Lithe[98] and listen, gentlemen, To sing a song I will begin: It is of a lord of fair Scotland, Which was the unthrifty heir of Linne.

His father was a right good lord, His mother a lady of high degree; But they, alas! were dead, him fro', And he lov'd keeping company.

To spend the day with merry cheer, To drink and revel every night, To card and dice from eve to morn, It was, I ween, his heart's delight.

To ride, to run, to rant, to roar, To alway spend and never spare, I know, an' it were the king himself, Of gold and fee he might be bare.

So fares the unthrifty lord of Linne Till all his gold is gone and spent; And he maun sell his lands so broad, His house, and lands, and all his rent.

His father had a keen steward, And John o' the Scales was called he: But John is become a gentleman, And John has got both gold and fee.

Says, Welcome, welcome, lord of Linne, Let nought disturb thy merry cheer; If thou wilt sell thy lands so broad, Good store of gold I'll give thee here.

My gold is gone, my money is spent; My land now take it unto thee: Give me the gold, good John o' the Scales, And thine for aye my land shall be.

Then John he did him to record draw, And John he cast him a G.o.ds-pennie;[99]

But for every pound that John agreed, The land, I wis, was well worth three.

He told him the gold upon the board, He was right glad his land to win; The gold is thine, the land is mine, And now I'll be the lord of Linne.

Thus he hath sold his land so broad, Both hill and holt,[100] and moor and fen, All but a poor and lonesome lodge, That stood far off in a lonely glen.

For so he to his father hight,[101]

My son, when I am gone, said he, Then thou wilt spend thy land so broad, And thou wilt spend thy gold so free:

But swear me now upon the cross, That lonesome lodge thou'lt never spend; For when all the world doth frown on thee, Thou there shalt find a faithful friend.

The heir of Linne is full of gold: And come with me, my friends, said he, Let's drink, and rant, and merry make, And he that spares, ne'er mote he thee.[102]

They ranted, drank, and merry made, Till all his gold it waxed thin; And then his friends they slunk away; They left the unthrifty heir of Linne.

He had never a penny left in his purse, Never a penny left but three, And one was bra.s.s, another was lead, And another it was white money.

Now well-a-day, said the heir of Linne, Now well-a-day, and woe is me, For when I was the lord of Linne, I never wanted gold nor fee.

But many a trusty friend have I, And why should I feel grief or care?