A cup

of lamb's-wool they drank unto him then, And to their beds they past presently.

The nobles, next morning, went all up and down,

For to seek out the king in every town.

At last at the miller's 'cot' soone they espied him out,

As he was mounting upon his fair steed;

To whom they came presently, falling down on their knee;
Which made the miller's heart wofully bleed:

Shaking and quaking, before him he stood,
Thinking he should have been hanged, by the rood.

The king perceiving him fearfully trembling,
Drew forth his sword, but nothing he said;
The miller down did fall, crying before them all,
Doubting the king would have cut off his head.
But he his kind courtesy for to requite,

Gave him great living, and dubbed him a knight.

PART THE SECOND.

When as our royal king came home from Nottingham,
And with his nobles at Westminster lay,
Recounting the sports and pastimes they had taken,
In this late progress along on the way,
Of them all, great and small, he did protest,
The miller of Mansfield's sport liked him best.

"And now, my lords," quoth the king, "I am determined Against St. George's next sumptuous feast, That this old miller, our new confirmed knight,

With his son Richard, shall here be my guest:

For, in this merriment, 'tis my desire

To talk with the jolly knight, and the young squire."

When as the noble lords saw the king's pleasantness,
They were right joyful and glad in their hearts:
A pursuivant there was sent straight on the business,
The which had often-times been in those parts.

When he came to the place where they did dwell,
His message orderly then 'gan he tell.

"God save your worship," then said the messenger,
"And grant your lady her own heart's desire;
And to your son Richard good fortune and happiness,
That sweet, gentle, and gallant young squire.
Our king greets you well, and thus he doth say,
You must come to the court on St. George's day.

Therefore, in any case, fail not to be in place."

"I wis," quoth the miller, "this is an odd jest: What should we do there? faith, I am half afraid."

"I doubt," quoth Richard, "to be hanged at the least." "Nay," quoth the messenger, "you do mistake;

Our king he provides a great feast for

your

sake."

Then said the miller, "By my troth, messenger,
Thou hast contented my worship full well:
Hold, here are three farthings, to quite thy gentleness,
For these happy tidings which thou dost tell.
Let me see, hear thou me; tell to our king,
We'll wait on his mastership in every thing."

The pursuivant smiled at their simplicity,
And making many legs, took their reward,

And his leave taking with great humility,
To the king's court again he repaired;
Showing unto his grace, merry and free,
The knight's most liberal gift and bounty.

When he was gone away, thus gan the miller

say:

"Here comes expenses and charges indeed; Now must we needs be brave, tho' we spend all we have,

For of new garments we have great need.

Of horses and serving-men we must have store,
With bridles and saddles, and twenty things more."

"Tush, Sir John," quoth his wife, "why should you fret or

frown?

You shall ne'er be at no charges for me;
For I will turn and trim up my old russet gown,
With every thing else as fine as may be;

And on our mill-horses swift we will ride,
With pillows and pannells,1 as we shall provide."

In this most stately sort, rode they unto the court;
Their jolly son Richard rode foremost of all,

î [A rustic saddle.]

Who set up, for good hap, a cock's feather in his

And so they jetted' down to the king's hall;
The merry old miller with hands on his side;
His wife like maid Marian did mince at that tide.

cap,

The king and his nobles, that heard of their coming, Meeting this gallant knight with his brave train, Welcome, sir knight," quoth he, "with your gay lady; Good Sir John Cockle, once welcome again;

And so is the squire of courage so free."

Quoth Dick, "A bots on you! do you know me?"