The king he tooke him up by the legge;

The tanner a f** lett fall.

'Nowe marrye, good fellowe,' sayd the kyng, "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.

120

But when his steede saw the cows taile wagge, 125
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.

130

Take thy horse again with a vengeance,' he sayd, ‘With mee he shall not byde.'

My horse wolde have borne thee well enoughe, 135 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.'

140

'Here's twentye groates out of my purse;

And twentye I have of thine:

And I have one more, which we will spend
Together at the wine.'

The king set a bugle horne to his mouthe,

And blewe both loude and shrille:

And soone came lords, and soon came knights,
Fast ryding over the hille.

Nowe, out alas!' the tanner he cryde,

"That ever I sawe this daye!

145

150

Thou art a strong thiefe, yon come thy fellowes 155 Will beare my cowe-hide away.'

'They are no thieves,' the kinge replyde,

'I sweare, soe mote I thee:

But they are the lords of the north countrèy,
Here come to hunt with mee.'

And soone before our king they came,
And knelt downe on the grounde:
Then might the tanner have been awaye,
He had lever than twentye pounde.

160

'A coller, a coller, here:' sayd the king, A coller' he loud gan crye:

165

Then woulde he lever then twentye pound,
He had not been so nighe.

'A coller, a coller,' the tanner he sayd, I trowe it will breede sorrowe:

After a coller commeth a halter,

I trow I shall be hang'd to-morrowe.'

170

‘Be not afraid, Tanner,' said our king;
'I tell thee, so mought I thee,
Lo here I make thee the best esquire
That is in the North countrie.1

For Plumpton-parke I will give thee,
With tenements faire beside:

"Tis worth three hundred markes by the yeare,
To maintaine thy good cowe-hide.'

'Gramercye, my liege,' the tanner replyde,

For the favour thou hast me showne;

If ever thou comest to merry Tamworth,
Neates leather shall clout thy shoen.'

175

180

XVI.

AS YE CAME FROM THE HOLY LAND.

DIALOGUE BETWEEN A PILGRIM AND TRAVELLER.

The scene of this song is the same as in Num. XIV. The pilgrimage to Walsingham suggested the plan of many popular pieces. In the Pepys collection, Vol. I. p. 226, is a kind of Interlude in the old ballad style, of which the first stanza alone is worth reprinting.

As I went to Walsingham,

To the shrine with speede,
Met I with a jolly palmer
In a pilgrimes weede.

1 This stanza is restored from a quotation of this Ballad in Selden's Titles of Honour,' who produces it as a good authority to prove, that one mode of creating Esquires at that time, was by the imposition of a Collar. His words are, Nor is that old pamphlet of the Tanner of Tamworth and King Edward the Fourth so contemptible, but that wee may thence note also an observable passage, wherein the use of making Esquires, by giving Collars, is expressed.' (Sub Tit. Esquire; & vide in Spelmanni Glossar. Armiger.) This form of creating Esquires actually exists at this day among the Serjeants at Arms, who are invested with a Collar (which they wear on Collar Days) by the King himself. This information I owe to Samuel Pegge, Esq. to whom the public is indebted for that curious work the 'Curialia,' 4to.

'Now God you save, you jolly palmer!'
'Welcome, lady gay,

Oft have I sued to thee for love.'

'-Oft have I said you nay.'

The pilgrimages undertaken on pretence of religion, were often productive of affairs of gallantry, and led the votaries to no other shrine than that of Venus.1

The following ballad was once very popular; it is quoted in Fletcher's 'Knt. of the Burning Pestle,' Act II. sc. ult. and in another old play, called, 'Hans Beer-pot, his invisible Comedy, &c.' 4to. 1618; Act I. The copy below was communicated to the Editor by the late Mr. Shenstone as corrected by him from an ancient copy, and supplied with a concluding stanza.

We have placed this, and Gentle Herdsman,' &c. thus early in the volume, upon a presumption that they must have been written, if not before the dissolution of the monasteries, yet while the remembrance of them was fresh in the minds of the people.

'As ye came from the holy land

Of blessed Walsingham,

O met you not with my true love
As by the way ye came?'

'How should I know your true love,

That have met many a one,
As I came from the holy land,
That have both come, and gone?'

5

My love is neither white,2 nor browne,

But as the heavens faire;

There is none hath her form divine,

10

Either in earth, or ayre.'

'Such an one did I meet, good sir,

With an angelicke face;

Who like a nymphe, a queene appeard
Both in her gait, her grace.'

15

1 Even in the time of Langland, pilgrimages to Walsingham were not unfavourable to the rites of Venus. Thus in his Visions of Pierce Plowman, fo. 1.

-2 sc. pale.

Hermers on a heape, with hoked staves,

Wenten to Walsingham, and her1 wenches after.

1 i.e. their.

Yes: she hath cleane forsaken me,

And left me all alone;

Who some time loved me as her life,

And called me her owne.'

What is the cause she leaves thee thus,
And a new way doth take,

That some times loved thee as her life,
And thee her joy did make?'

"I that loved her all my youth,
Growe old now as you see;
Love liketh not the falling fruite,
Nor yet the withered tree.

For love is like a carelesse childe,
Forgetting promise past:

He is blind, or deaf, whenere he list:
His faith is never fast.

His fond desire is fickle found,

And yieldes a trustlesse joye;

Wonne with a world of toil and care,
And lost ev'n with a toye.

Such is the love of womankinde,
Or Loves faire name abusde,
Beneathe which many vaine desires,

And follyes are excusde.

[But true love is a lasting fire,

Which viewless vestals 1 tend,

That burnes for ever in the soule,
And knowes nor change, nor end.']

1 sc. Angels.

**