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 daughtèr, 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 [Illustration: The King Estmere headpiece] [Illustration: 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, brothèr, 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 Englànd, Where we might find a messenger Betwixt us towe to sende. Saies, You shal ryde yourselfe, brothèr, Ile beare you companye; Many throughe fals messengers are deceived, And I feare lest soe shold wee.