1
Henery, our royall king, wold goe a huntinge,
To the greene fforrest soe pleasant and fayre;
To haue the harts chased, the daintye does tripping,
To merry Sherwood his nobles repayre;
Hauke and hound was vnbound, all things prepared
For the same to the game with good regard.
2
All a longe summers day rode the king pleasantlye,
With all his princes and nobles eche one,
Chasing the hart and hind and the bucke gallantlye,
Till the darke euening inforced them turne home.
Then at last, ryding fast, he had lost quite
All his lords in the wood in the darke night.
3
Wandering thus wearilye, all alone vp and downe,
With a rude miller he mett att the last;
Asking the ready way vnto fayre Nottingham,
‘Sir,’ quoth the miller, ‘I meane not to iest,
Yett I thinke what I thinke; truth for to say,
You doe not lightlye goe out of your way.’
4
‘Why, what dost thou thinke of me?’ quoth our king merrily,
‘Passing thy iudgment vpon me soe breefe.’
‘Good faith,’ quoth the miller, ‘I meane not to flatter thee,
I gesse thee to bee some gentleman-theefe;
Stand thee backe in the darke! light not adowne,
Lest I presentlye cracke thy knaues cro[wn]e!’
5
‘Thou doest abuse me much,’ quoth our king, ‘saying thus;
I am a gentleman, and lodging doe lacke.’
‘Thou hast not,’ quoth the miller, ‘a groat in thy pursse;
All thine inheritance hanges on thy backe.’
‘I haue gold to discharge for that I call;
If itt be forty pence, I will pay all.’
6
‘If thou beest a true man,’ then said the miller,
‘I sweare by my tole-dish I’le lodge thee all night.’
‘Heere’s my hand,’ quoth our king, ‘that was I euer.’
‘Nay, soft,’ quoth the miller, ‘thou mayst be a sprite;
Better I’le know thee ere hands I will shake;
With none but honest men hands will I take.’
7
Thus they went all alonge unto the millers house,
Where they were seething of puddings and souce.
The miller first entered in, then after went the king;
Neuer came he in soe smoakye a house.
‘Now,’ quoth hee, ‘let me see heere what you are;’
Quoth our king, Looke you[r] fill, and doe not spare.
8
‘I like well thy countenance; thou hast an honest fac[e];
With my sonne Richard this night thou shalt lye.’
Quoth his wiffe, By my troth, it is a good hansome yout[h];
Yet it is best, husband, to deale warrilye.
Art thou not a runaway? I pray thee, youth, tell;
Show vs thy pasport and all shalbe well.
9
Then our king presentlye, making lowe curtesie,
With his hatt in his hand, this he did say:
I haue noe pasport, nor neuer was seruitor,
But a poore courtyer, rode out of the way;
And for your kindnesse now offered to me,
I will requite it in euerye degree.
10
Then to the miller his wiffe whispered secretlye,
Saing, It seemeth the youth is of good kin,
Both by his apparell and by his manners;
To turne him out, certainely it were a great sin.
‘Yea,’ quoth hee, ‘you may see hee hath some grace,
When as he speaks to his betters in place.’
11
‘Well,’ quoth the millers wiffe, ‘younge man, welcome heer!
And tho I say’t, well lodged shalt thou be;
Fresh straw I will lay vpon your bed soe braue,
Good browne hempen sheetes likwise,’ quoth shee.
‘I,’ quoth the goodman, ‘and when that is done,
Thou shalt lye [with] noe worse then our owne sonne.’
12
‘Nay first,’ quoth Richard, ‘good fellowe, tell me true,
Hast thou noe creepers in thy gay hose?
Art thou not troubled with the scabbado?’
‘Pray you,’ quoth the king, ‘what things are those?’
‘Art thou not lowsye nor scabbed?’ quoth hee;
‘If thou beest, surely thou lyest not with me.’
13
This caused our king suddenly to laugh most hartilye
Till the teares trickled downe from his eyes.
Then to there supper were thé sett orderlye,
To hott bag-puddings and good apple-pyes;
Nappy ale, good and stale, in a browne bowle,
Which did about the bord merrilye troule.
14
’Heere,’ quoth the miller, ’good fellowe, I’le drinke to thee,
And to all the courtnolls that curteous bee.’
’I pledge thee,’ quoth our king, ’and thanke thee heartilye
For my good welcome in euerye degree;
And heere in like manner I drinke to thy sonne.’
’Doe then,’ saies Richard, ’and quicke let it come.’
15
’Wiffe,’ quoth the miller, ’feitch me forth lightfoote,
That wee of his sweetnesse a litle may tast.’
A faire venson pastye shee feiched forth presentlye.
’Eate,’ quoth the miller, ’but first, make noe wast;
Heer is dainty lightfoote.’ ’Infaith,’ quoth our king,
’I neuer before eate of soe dayntye a thinge.’
16
’Iwis,’ said Richard, ’noe dayntye att all it is,
For wee doe eate of it euerye day.’
’In what place,’ sayd our king, ’may be bought lik to th[is?]’
’Wee neuer pay peennye for it, by my fay;
From merry Sherwood wee feitch it home heere;
Now and then we make bold with our kings deere.’
17
’Then I thinke,’ quoth our king, ’that it is venison.’
’Eche foole,’ quoth Richard, ’full well may see that;
Neuer are we without two or three in the rooffe,
Verry well fleshed and exellent ffatt.
But I pray thee say nothing where-ere thou goe;
We wold not for two pence the king shold it know.’
18
’Doubt not,’ said our king, ’my promised secresye;
The king shall neuer know more on’t for mee.’
A cupp of lambes woole they dranke vnto him,
And to their bedds thé past presentlye.
The nobles next morning went all vp and downe
For to seeke the king in euerye towne.
19
At last, att the millers house soone thé did spye him plaine,
As he was mounting vpon his faire steede;
To whome thé came presentlye, falling downe on their knees,
Which made the millers hart wofullye bleed.
Shaking and quaking before him he stood,
Thinking he shold be hanged by the rood.
20
The k[ing] perceiuing him fearfully tremblinge,
Drew forth his sword, but nothing he said;
The miller downe did fall crying before them all,
Doubtinge the king wold cut of his head.
But he, his kind curtesie for to requite,
Gaue him great liuing, and dubd him a knight.
21
When as our noble king came from Nottingam,
And with his nobles in Westminster lay,
Recounting the sports and the pastime thé had tane
In this late progresse along on the way,
Of them all, great and small, hee did protest
The miller of Mansfeild liked him best.
22
’And now, my lords,’ quoth the king, ’I am determined,
Against St Georges next sumptuous feast,
That this old miller, our youngest confirmed knight,
With his sonne Richard, shalbe both my guest;
For in this merryment it is my desire
To talke with this iollye knight and the younge squier.’
23
When as the noble lords saw the kings merriment,
Thé were right ioyfull and glad in their harts;
A pursiuant thé sent straight on this busines,
The which oftentimes vsed those parts.
When he came to the place where he did dwell,
His message merrilye then he did tell.
24
’God saue your worshippe,’ then said the messenger,
’And grant your ladye her owne harts desire;
And to your sonne Richard good fortune and happinesse,
That sweet younge gentleman and gallant squier!
Our king greets you well, and thus doth say;
You must come to the court on St Georges day.
25
’Therfore in any case fayle not to be in place.’
’I-wis,’ quoth the miller, ’it is an odd iest!
What shold wee doe there?’ he sayd, ’infaith I am halfe afraid.’
’I doubt,’ quoth Richard, ’to be hanged att the least.’
’Nay,’ quoth the messenger, ’you doe mistake;
Our king prepares a great feast for your sake.’
26
’Then,’ said the miller, ’now by my troth, messenger,
Thou hast contented my worshipp full well:
Hold! there is three farthings to quite thy great gentleness
For these happy tydings which thou dost me tell.
Let me see! hearest thou me? tell to our king,
Wee’le wayte on his mastershipp in euerye thing.’
27
The pursivant smyled at their simplicitye,
And making many leggs, tooke their reward,
And takeing then his leaue with great humilitye
To the kings court againe hee repayred,
Showing vnto his Grace in euerye degree
The knights most liberall giffts and great bountye.
28
When hee was gone away, thus can the miller say;
Heere comes expences and charges indeed!
Now must wee needs be braue, tho wee spend all wee haue;
For of new garments wee haue great need.
Of horsses and serving-men wee must haue store,
With bridles and sadles and twentye things more.
29
‘Tushe, Sir Iohn,’ quoth his wiffe, ‘neither doe frett nor frowne,
You shall bee att noe more charges for mee;
For I will turne and trim vp my old russett gowne,
With euerye thing else as fine as may bee;
And on our mill-horsses full swift wee will ryd,
With pillowes and pannells as wee shall provyde.’
30
In this most statelye sort thé rod vnto the court,
Their lusty sonne Richard formost of all,
Who sett vp by good hap a cockes fether in his cappe;
And soe thé ietted downe towards the kings hall,
The merry old miller with his hands on his side,
His wiffe like Maid Marryan did mince at that tyde.
31
The king and his nobles, that hard of their coming,
Meeting this gallant knight with this braue traine,
‘Welcome, Sir Knight,’ quoth hee,’ with this your gay lady!
Good Sir Iohn Cockle, once welcome againe!
And soe is this squier of courage soe free.’
Quoth Dicke, A botts on you! doe you know me?
32
Quoth our king gentlye, How shall I forgett thee?
Thou wast my owne bed-fellow; well that I wot.’
‘But I doe thinke on a tricke,’—‘Tell me, pray thee, Dicke!’
‘How with farting we made the bed hott.’
‘Thou horson [un]happy knaue,’ the[n] quoth the knight,
‘Speake cleanly to our [king,] or else goe shite!’
33
The king and his councellors hartilye laugh at this,
While the king tooke them by the hand.
With ladyes and their maids, like to the queene of spades
The millers wiffe did most orderlye stand,
A milkemaids curtesye at euerye word;
And downe these folkes were set to the bord.
34
Where the king royally, with princely maiestye,
Sate at his dinner with ioy and delight;
When he had eaten well, to jesting then hee fell,
Taking a bowle of wine, dranke to the knight.
‘Heere’s to you both!’ he sayd, ‘in ale, wine, and beere,
Thanking you hartilye for all my good cheere.’
35
Quoth Sir Iohn Cockle, I’le pledge you a pottle,
Were it the best ale in Nottingam-shire.
‘But then,’ said our king, ‘I thinke on a thinge;
Some of your lightfoote I wold we had heere.’
‘Ho, ho!’ quoth Richard, ‘full well I may say it;
It’s knauerye to eate it and then to bewray it.’
36
‘What! art thou angry?’ quoth our king merrilye,
‘Infaith I take it verry vnkind;
I thought thou woldest pledg me in wine or ale heartil[y].’
‘Yee are like to stay,’ quoth Dicke, ‘till I haue dind.
You feed vs with twatling dishes soe small;
Zounds! a blacke pudding is better then all.’
37
‘I, marry,’ quoth our king, ‘that were a daintye thing,
If wee cold gett one heere for to eate.’
With that, Dicke straight arose, and plucket one out of his h[ose,]
Which with heat of his breech began for to sweate.
The king made profer to snatch it away;
‘It’s meate for your master, good sir, you shall stay!’
38
Thus with great merriment was the time wholy spent,
And then the ladyes prepared to dance.
Old Sir Iohn Cockle and Richard incontinent
vnto this practise the king did advance;
Where with the ladyes such sport thé did make,
The nobles with laughing did make their heads ake.
39
Many thankes for their paines the king did giue them then,
Asking young Richard if he wold be wed:
‘Amongst these ladyes faire, tell me which liketh thee.’
Quoth hee, Iugg Grumball with the red head,
Shee’s my loue; shee’s my liffe; her will I wed;
Shee hath sworne I shall haue her maidenhead.
40
Then Sir Iohn Cockle the king called vnto him;
And of merry Sherwood made him ouerseer,
And gaue him out of hand three hundred pound yearlye:
‘But now take heede you steale noe more of my deere,
And once a quarter let’s heare haue your vew;
And thus, Sir Iohn Cockle, I bid thee adew!’