He callèd on his trusty page, 5 His trusty page then callèd he, "O you must go to the king of France, O you must go right speedilie. "And tell him of my tribute due, Ten ton of gold that's due to me, 10 That he must send me my tribute home, Or in French land he soon will me see." O then away went the trusty page, Away, away, and away went he, Until he came to the king of France; 15 Lo! he fell down on his bended knee. "My master greets you, worthy Sire; Ten ton of gold there is due, says he; You must send him his tribute home, Or in French land you will soon him see." 20 "Your master's young, and of tender years, Not fit to come into my degree; But I will send him three tennis balls, That with them learn to play may he." O then away came the trusty page, 25 Away, and away, and away came he, Until he came to our gracious king; Lo! he fell down on his bended knee. "What news, what news, my trusty page, What news, what news, hast thou brought to me?" 30 "I've brought such news from the king of France, That you and he will ne'er agree. "He says you're young, and of tender years, Not fit to come into his degree; But he will send you three tennis balls, 35 That with them you may learn to play." O then bespoke our noble king, A solemn vow then vowèd he; "I'll promise him such tennis balls, As in French lands he ne'er did see. 40 "Go, call up Cheshire and Lancashire, And Derby hills, that are so free; Not a married man, nor a widow's son, For the widow's cry shall not go with me." They called up Cheshire and Lancashire, 45 And Derby lads that were so free; Not a married man, nor a widow's son, Yet they were a jovial bold companie. O then he sailed to fair French land, With drums and trumpets so merrilie; 50 O then bespoke the king of France, "Yonder comes proud king Henrie." The first fire that the Frenchmen gave, They killed our Englishmen so free; We killed ten thousand of the French, 55 And the rest of them they were forced to flee. And then we marched to Paris gates, With drums and trumpets so merrilie; O then bespoke the king of France, "Lord have mercy on my poor men and me! 60 "Go! tell him I'll send home his tribute due, Ten ton of gold that is due from me; And the fairest flower that is in our French land To the Rose of England it shall go free." JANE SHORE.