I never stole them, quoth our king, I tell you, Sir, by the roode. "Then thou playest, as many an unthrift doth, And standest in midds of thy goode." What tydinges heare you, sayd the kynge, As you ryde farre and neare? "I heare no tydinges, Sir, by the masse, But that cowe-hides are deare." "Cow-hides! cow-hides! what things are those? I marvell what they bee?" What, art thou a foole? the tanner reply'd; I carry one under mee. What craftsman art thou, said the king, I pray thee tell me trowe. "I am a barker, Sir, by my trade; Nowe tell me what art thou?" I am a poor courtier, Sir, quoth he, That am forth of service worne; And faine I wolde thy prentise bee, Thy cunninge for to learne. Marrye heaven forfend, the tanner replyde, That thou my prentise were: Thou woldst spend more good than I shold winne By fortye shilling a yere. Yet one thinge wolde I, sayd our king, If thou wilt not seeme strange: Thoughe my horse be better than thy mare, Yet with thee I fain wold change. "Why if with me thou faine wilt change, As change full well maye wee, By the faith of my bodye, thou proude fellowe I will have some boot of thee." That were against reason, sayd the king, I sweare, so mote I thee: My horse is better than thy mare, And that thou well mayst see. "Yea, Sir, but Brocke is gentle and mild, And softly she will fare: Thy horse is unrulye and wild, I wiss; Aye skipping here and theare." What boote wilt thou have? our king reply'd; Now tell me in this stound. "Noe pence, nor halfpence, by my faye, But a noble in gold so round. "Here's twentye groates of white moneye, Sith thou will have it of mee." I would have sworne now, quoth the tanner, Thou hadst not had one pennie. But since we two have made a change, A change we must abide, Although thou hast gotten Brocke my mare, Thou gettest not my cowe-hide. I will not have it, sayd the kynge, I sweare, so mought I thee; Thy foule cowe-hide I wolde not beare, If thou woldst give it to mee. The tanner hee tooke his good cowe-hide, That of the cow was bilt; And threwe it upon the king's sadelle, That was soe fayrelye gilte. "Now help me up, thou fine fellowe, 'Tis time that I were gone: When I come home to Gyllian my wife, Sheel say I am a gentilmon." The king he tooke him up by the legge; The tanner a f----- lett fall. Nowe marrye, good fellowe, sayd the king, Thy courtesye is but small. When the tanner he was in the kinges sadèlle, And his foote in the stirrup was; He marvelled greatlye in his minde, Whether it were golde or brass. But when the steede saw the cows taile wagge, And eke the blacke cowe-horne; He stamped, and stared, and awaye he ranne, As the devill had him borne.