What craftsman art thou? said the king, I pray thee tell me true. I am a barker,[90] sir, by my trade; Now tell me what art thou? I am a poor courtier, sir, quoth he, That am forth of service worn; And fain I would thy prentice be, Thy cunning for to learn. Marry heaven forfend, the tanner replied, That thou my prentice were: Thou wouldst spend more good than I should win By forty shilling a year. Yet one thing would I, said our king, If thou wilt not seem strange: Though my horse be better than thy mare, Yet with thee I fain would change. Why if with me thou fain wilt change, As change full well may we, By the faith of my body, thou proud fellow, I will have some boot of thee. That were against reason, said the king, I swear, so mote I thee:[91] My horse is better than thy mare, And that thou well mayst see. Yea, sir, but Brock is gentle and mild, And softly she will fare: Thy horse is unruly and wild, I wiss; Aye skipping here and there. What boot wilt thou have? our king replied, Now tell me in this stound. No pence, nor half-pence, by my faith, But a noble in gold so round. Here's twenty groats of white money, Sith thou will have it of me. I would have sworn now, quoth the tanner, Thou hadst not had one penny. But since we two have made a change, A change we must abide, Although thou hast gotten Brock my mare, Thou gettest not my cow-hide. I will not have it, said the king, I swear, so mote I thee; Thy foul cow-hide I would not bear, If thou wouldst give it to me. The tanner he took his good cow-hide, That of the cow was hilt;[92] And threw it upon the king's saddle, That was so fairly gilt. Now help me up, thou fine fellow, 'Tis time that I were gone; When I come home to Gyllian my wife, She'll say I am a gentleman. When the tanner he was in the king's saddle, And his foot in the stirrup was; He marvelled greatly in his mind, Whether it were gold or brass. But when his steed saw the cow's tail wag, And eke the black cow-horn; He stamped, and stared, and away he ran, As the devil had him borne. The tanner he pulled, the tanner he sweat, And held by the pummel fast, At length the tanner came tumbling down; His neck he had well-nigh brast.[93] Take thy horse again with a vengeance, he said, With me he shall not bide. My horse would have borne thee well enough, But he knew not of thy cow-hide. Yet if again thou fain wouldst change, As change full well may we, By the faith of my body, thou jolly tanner, I will have some boot of thee.