A Pleasant new Ballad of King Henry the Second, and the Miller of Mansfield,
in Sherwood, and how he was lodged at the Millers house, and of their pleasant
Communication.Tune of, the French Levalto.
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HEnry our Royal King would ride a hunting,
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to the Green Forrest so pleasant and fair,
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To have the Hart chased, and dainty Does tripping,
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unto merry Sherwood his Nobles repair;
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Hawk and Hound was unbound, all things prepar'd,
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For the same, to the game, with good regard.
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All a long Summers day, rode the King pleasantly,
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with all his Princes and Nobles each one;
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Chasing the Hart, and Hind, and the Buck gallantly,
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till the dark evening forc'd him to turn home:
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Then at last, riding fast, he had lost quite,
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All his Lords in the wood, late in dark night;
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Wandring thus warily, all alone up and down,
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with a rude Miller he met at the last:
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Asking the ready way unto fair Nottingham,
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Sir, quoth the Miller your way you have lost:
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Yet I think, what I think, truth for to say,
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You do not likely ride out of your way.
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Why, what dost thou think of me? quod our K. merrily,
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passing thy judgement upon me so brief;
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Good faith, said the Miller, I mean not to flatter thee,
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I guess thee to be but some Gentleman-thief;
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Stand thee back in the dark, light thee not down,
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Least that I presently crack thy Knaves Crown.
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Thou hast abus'd me much, quod the King, saying thus.
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I am a Gentleman, and lodging I lack,
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Thou hast not, quod the Miller, one Groat in thy purse,
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all thy inheritance hangs on thy back;
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I have Gold to discharge all that I call,
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If it be pence I will pay all.
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If thou beest a true-man, then quoth the Miller,
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I swear by my Tole-dish I'le lodge thee all night;
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Here's my hand, quoth the King, that was I ever,
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Nay soft, quoth the Miller, thou may'st be a spright:
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Better I'le know thee, e're hands I will take,
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With none but honest-men hands will I shake;
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Thus they went all along unto the Millers house,
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where they were seething of puddings and souse;
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The Miller first entred in, then after him the King,
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never came he in so smoaky a house,
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Now (quoth he) let me see here what you are,
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Quoth our King, look your fill, and do not spare.
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I like thy countenance, thou hast an honest face,
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with my Son Richard this night thou shalt lye;
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Quoth his wife, by my troth it is a handsom youth,
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yet it is best (Husband) for to deal warily:
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Art thou not a run-away, prethee youth tell,
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Shew me thy pasport and all shall be well.
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Then our King presently, making low courtesie,
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with his hat in his hand thus he did say,
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I have no pasport, nor never was servitor,
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but a poor Courtier rode out of my way:
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And for your kindness here offered me,
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I will requite it in every degree.
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Then to the Miller, his wife whispered secretly,
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saying, it seems this youth's of good kin,
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Both by his apparel, and eke by his manners,
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to turn him out certainly 'twere a great sin.
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Yea, quoth he, you may see, he hath some grace,
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When he doth speak to his betters in place.
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Well, quod the Millers wife young-man welcome here,
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and though I say it well lodg'd thou shalt be,
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Fresh Straw I will have, laid on thy bed so brave,
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good brown Hempon sheets likewise, quoth she;
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I, quoth the Good man, and when that is done,
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You shall lye with no worse then our own Son.
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Nay first quoth Richard, Good fellow tell me true,
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hast thou no creepers within thy gay hose?
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Or art thou not troubled with the Scabbado?
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I pray quoth our King, what things are those?
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Art thou not lowsie, nor scabby, quoth he,
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If thou beest, surely thou ly'st not with me.
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This caus'd the King suddenly, to laugh most heartily
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till the tears trickled down from his eyes,
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Then to their supper were they set orderly,
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with a hot Bag-pudding, and good Apple-pies;
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Nappy Ale, good and stale, in a brown bowl,
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Which did about the board merrily trowl.
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Here quoth the Miller, good fellow I'le drink to thee,
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and to all Courtnals whereever they be,
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I'le pledge you, quoth our King, and thank you heartily
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for your good welcome in every degree;
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And here in like manner i'le drink to your Son,
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Do so, quoth Richard, but quick let it come:
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Wife, quoth the Miller, fetch me forth Light-foot,
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that we of his sweetness a little may taste,
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A fair Venision-pasty, then brought she forth presently
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eat quoth the Miller, but sir make no waste:
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Here's dainty Light-foot in faith said our King,
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I never before did eat so dainty a thing.
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I wis (said Richard) no dainty at all it is,
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for we do eat of it every day;
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In what place, said our K. may be bought like to this?
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we never pay penny for it by fay.
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From merry Sherwood we fetch it home here,
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Now and then we make bold with our Kings Deer:
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Then I think, said our King, that it is Venision,
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each fool (quoth Richard) full well may see that,
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Never are we without two or three under the Roof,
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very well fleshed and excellent fat:
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But prethee say nothing whereever thou go,
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We would not for two pence the K. should it know.
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Doubt not then said the King, my promis'd secresie,
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the King shall never know more on't for me.
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A cup of Lambs-wool they drank unto him then,
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and to their beds they past presently:
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The Nobles next morning went all up and down,
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For to seek out the King in every town.
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At last at the Millers house soon they espy'd him plain
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as he was mounting upon his fair steed,
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To whom they came presently, falling upon their knee,
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which made the Millers heart wofully bleed:
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Shaking and quaking before them be stood,
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Thinking he should have been hang'd by the rood:
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The King perceiving him fearful and trembling,
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drew forth his sword and nothing he said,
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The Miller down did fall, crying before them all,
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doubting the King would have cut off his head:
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But his kind courtesie for to requite.
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Gave him a living, and made him a Knight.
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The second part of the Miller and the King; shewing how he came to Court with
his Wife and Son, and what Merry Conceits passed between the King and him.
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WHen as our royal K. came home from Nott[i]ng-ham,
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and with his Nobles at Westminster lay
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Recounting the sports and pastimes they had tane,
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in this late progress along by the way:
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Of them all great and small he did protest,
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The Miller of Mansfield's sport liked him best.
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And now my Lords quod the King I am determined,
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against St. Georges next a sumptuous feast,
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That this old Miller our last confirmed Knight,
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with his Son Richard shall both be my Guess.
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For in this merriment 'tis my desire,
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To talk with the jolly Knight, and the young Squire.
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When as the Lords, saw the Kings pleasantness,
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they were right joyful and glad in their hearts,
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A pursevant there was sent streight on the business
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the which had oftentimes been in those parts.
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When he came to the place where he did dwell,
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His message orderly then he did tell.
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God save your worship, then said the Messenger,
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and grant your Lady her hearts desire,
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And to your Son Richard good fortune and happiness
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that sweet young Gentleman & gallant young squire,
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Our King greets you all, and thus doth say,
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You must come to the Court on St. Georges day.
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Therefore in any case, fail not to be in place,
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I wis quoth the Miller, this is an odd jest:
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What should we do there, he said: faith I am half afraid.
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I doubt (quoth Richard) be hang'd at the least:
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Nay, quoth the Messenger, you do mistake,
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Our King he provides a great feast for your sake.
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Then said the Miller, now by my troth Messenger,
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thou hast contented my Worship full well:
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Hold here's 3 farthings to quit thy great gentleness
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for these happy tydings which thou dost me tell:
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Let me see, here's to thee, tell to our King,
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We'l wait on his Mastership in everything.
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The Pursevant smiled at their simplicity,
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and making many legs took their reward:
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And taking then his leave with great humility,
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to the Kings Court again he repair'd:
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Shewing unto his Grace in each degree,
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The Knights most liberal gift and bounty.
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When he was gone away, thus did the Miller say,
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here comes expences and charges indeed:
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Now we must needs be brave, though we spend all we have,
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for of new Garments we have great need:
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Of Horses and Serving-men we must have store,
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With Bridles and Saddles, and twenty things more.
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Tush, sir John, quoth his Wife, never fret nor frown,
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you shall be at no more charges for me,
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For I will turn and trim up my old Russet Gown,
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with everything as fine as may be:
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And on our Mill-horses full swift we will ride,
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With Pillows and Pannels as we shall provide.
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In this most stately sort, rode they unto the Court,
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jolly Son Richard foremost of all,
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Who set up by good hap, a Cocks feather in his Cap,
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and so thenthey jetted down towards the Kings Hall:
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The Merry old Miller with his hands on his side,
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His Wife like maid Marrian did mince at that tide.
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The King and his Nobles, that heard of his coming,
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meeting this gallant Knight with his brave train;
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Welcome sir Knight, quod he, with this your gay Lady,
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good sir John Cockle once welcome again;
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And so is this Squire of courage so free,
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Quoth Dick abots on you, do you know me?
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Quoth our King gently, how should I forget thee?
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thou wast my own bed-fellow well that I wot:
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But I think of a trick, tell me that prethee Dick,
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how thou with Farting did'st make the bed hot.
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Thou whorson happy Knave, then quoth the Knight,
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Speak cleanly to our King or else go shite;
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The King and his Courtiers heartily laught at this,
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while the King took them both by the hand:
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With Ladies & their maids, like to the Queen of spades
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the Millers Wife did so orderly stand.
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A Milk-Maids courtesie at every word,
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And down the folks were set at the side-board:
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Where the King royally, in Princely Majesty,
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sat at his Dinner with joy and delight,
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When they had eaten well, to jesting then they fell,
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taking a Bowl of Wine drank to the Knight:
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Here's to you both, he said, in Wine, Ale and Beer,
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Thanking you all for your Country cheer.
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Quoth sir John Cockle i'le pledge you a pottle,
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were it the best Ale in Nottinghamshire;
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But then said our King, I do think of a thing,
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some of your Light-foot I would we had here,
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Ho, ho, quoth Richard full well I may say it,
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'Tis Knavery to eat it, and then to betray it:
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Why art thou angry: quoth our King merrily,
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in faith I take it very unkind:
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I thought thou would'st pledge me in Ale and Wine heartily,
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y'are like to stay, quoth Dick, till I have din'd:
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You feed us with twatling dishes so small,
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Zounds a Black-pudding is better then all.
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I marry, quoth our King, that were a dainty thing,
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if a man could get one here for to eat:
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With that Dick arose, and pluckt one out of his hose,
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which with heat of his breech began for to sweat.
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The King made a proffer to snatch it away,
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Tis meat for your Master, good Sir you must stay.
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Thus in great merriment, was the time wholly spent,
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and then the Ladies prepared to dance,
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Old Sir John Cockle and Richrd incontinent,
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unto this practice the King did advance;
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Here with the Ladies such sport they did make,
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The Nobles with laughing did make their hearts ake.
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Many thanks for their pains, did the King give them,
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asking young Richard if he would be wed:
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Among these Ladies free, tell me which liketh thee,
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quoth he, Jugg Grumbol with the red head:
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She's my love, she's my life, she will I wed,
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She hath sworn I shall have her Maiden-head.
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Then Sir John Cockle, the King call'd unto him,
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and of merry Sherwood made him Over-seer,
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And gave him out of hand, three hundred pound yearly
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and now take heed you steal no more of my Deer:
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And once a quarter lets here have your view,
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And thus Sir John Cockle I bid you adieu.
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