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. The tanner he pulld, the tanner he sweat, And held by the pummil fast: At length the tanner came tumbling downe; His necke he had well-nye brast. Take thy horse again with a vengeance, he sayd, With mee he shall not byde. "My horse wolde have borne thee well enoughe, But he knewe not of thy cowe-hide. Yet if againe thou faine woldst change, As change full well may wee, By the faith of my bodye, thou jolly tannèr, I will have some boote of thee." What boote wilt thou have? the tanner replyd, Nowe tell me in this stounde. "Noe pence nor halfpence, Sir, by my faye, But I will have twentye pound."