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.

What boot wilt thou have, the tanner replied,
Now tell me in this stound?[94]
No pence, nor half-pence, sir, by my faith,
But I will have twenty pound.

[Illustration: KING EDWARD IV. AND THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH.]

Here's twenty groats out of my purse;
And twenty I have of thine:
And I have one more, which we will spend
Together at the wine.

The king set a bugle horn to his mouth,
And blew both loud and shrill:
And soon came lords, and soon came knights,
Fast riding over the hill.

Now, out alas! the tanner he cried,
That ever I saw this day!
Thou art a strong thief, yon come thy fellows
Will bear my cow-hide away.

They are no thieves, the king replied,
I swear, so mote I thee:
But they are the lords of the north country,
Here come to hunt with me.

And soon before our king they came,
And knelt down on the ground:
Then might the tanner have been away,
He had lever[95] than twenty pound.

A collar, a collar, here: said the king,
A collar he loud 'gan cry:
Then would he lever than twenty pound,
He had not been so nigh.

A collar, a collar, the tanner he said,
I trow it will breed sorrow:
Afte