KING ALFRED AND THE SHEPHERD
Inelder time there was of yore,When gibes of churlish gleeWere used among our country carles,Tho’ no such thing now be:The which King Alfred liking well,Forsook his stately Court,And in disguise unknown went forthTo see that jovial sport;How Dick and Tom in clouted shoon,And coats of russet grey,Esteemed themselves more brave than themThat went in golden ray.In garments fit for such a lifeThe good King Alfred went,Ragged and torn as from his backThe beggar his clothes had rent.A sword and buckler good and strong,To give Jack Sauce a rap;And on his head, instead of a crown,He wore a Monmouth cap.Thus coasting thorough Somersetshire:Near Newton-Court he metA shepherd swain of lusty limb,That up and down did jet:He wore a bonnet of good grey,Close-buttoned to his chin;And at his back a leather scrip,With much good meat therein.“God speed, good Shepherd,” quoth the King“I come to be thy guest,To taste of thy good victuals here,And drink that’s of the best.“Thy scrip, I know hath cheer good store”:“What then?” the Shepherd said,“Thou seem’st to be some sturdy thief,And mak’st me sore afraid.“Yet if thou wilt thy dinner win,Thy sword and buckler take:And, if thou canst, into my scripTherewith an entrance make.“I tell thee, roister, it hath storeOf beef and bacon fat,With sheaves of barley-bread to makeThy chaps to water at!“Here stands my bottle, here my bag,If thou canst win them, roister;Against thy sword and buckler here,My sheep-hook is my master.”“Benedicite!” quoth our good King“It never shall be said,That Alfred, of the Shepherd’s hook,Will stand a whit afraid.”So foundly thus they both fell to ‘t,And giving bang for bang;At ev’ry blow the Shepherd gaveKing Alfred’s sword criedtwang!His buckler proved his chiefest fence;For still the Shepherd’s hookWas that the which King Alfred couldIn no good manner brook.At last, when they had fought four hours,And it grew just midday,And wearied both, with right good will,Desired each other’s stay:“A truce, I crave,” quoth Alfred then“Good Shepherd, hold thy hand,A sturdier fellow than thyselfLives not within the land!”“Nor a lustier roister than thou art,”The churlish Shepherd said;“To tell thee plain, thy thievish lookNow makes my heart afraid.“Else sure thou art some prodigal,Which hast consumed thy store,And now com’st wand’ring in this placeTo rob and steal for more.”“Deem not of me, then,” quoth our King,“Good Shepherd, in this sort.A gentleman well known I amIn good King Alfred’s Court.”
Inelder time there was of yore,When gibes of churlish gleeWere used among our country carles,Tho’ no such thing now be:The which King Alfred liking well,Forsook his stately Court,And in disguise unknown went forthTo see that jovial sport;How Dick and Tom in clouted shoon,And coats of russet grey,Esteemed themselves more brave than themThat went in golden ray.In garments fit for such a lifeThe good King Alfred went,Ragged and torn as from his backThe beggar his clothes had rent.A sword and buckler good and strong,To give Jack Sauce a rap;And on his head, instead of a crown,He wore a Monmouth cap.Thus coasting thorough Somersetshire:Near Newton-Court he metA shepherd swain of lusty limb,That up and down did jet:He wore a bonnet of good grey,Close-buttoned to his chin;And at his back a leather scrip,With much good meat therein.“God speed, good Shepherd,” quoth the King“I come to be thy guest,To taste of thy good victuals here,And drink that’s of the best.“Thy scrip, I know hath cheer good store”:“What then?” the Shepherd said,“Thou seem’st to be some sturdy thief,And mak’st me sore afraid.“Yet if thou wilt thy dinner win,Thy sword and buckler take:And, if thou canst, into my scripTherewith an entrance make.“I tell thee, roister, it hath storeOf beef and bacon fat,With sheaves of barley-bread to makeThy chaps to water at!“Here stands my bottle, here my bag,If thou canst win them, roister;Against thy sword and buckler here,My sheep-hook is my master.”“Benedicite!” quoth our good King“It never shall be said,That Alfred, of the Shepherd’s hook,Will stand a whit afraid.”So foundly thus they both fell to ‘t,And giving bang for bang;At ev’ry blow the Shepherd gaveKing Alfred’s sword criedtwang!His buckler proved his chiefest fence;For still the Shepherd’s hookWas that the which King Alfred couldIn no good manner brook.At last, when they had fought four hours,And it grew just midday,And wearied both, with right good will,Desired each other’s stay:“A truce, I crave,” quoth Alfred then“Good Shepherd, hold thy hand,A sturdier fellow than thyselfLives not within the land!”“Nor a lustier roister than thou art,”The churlish Shepherd said;“To tell thee plain, thy thievish lookNow makes my heart afraid.“Else sure thou art some prodigal,Which hast consumed thy store,And now com’st wand’ring in this placeTo rob and steal for more.”“Deem not of me, then,” quoth our King,“Good Shepherd, in this sort.A gentleman well known I amIn good King Alfred’s Court.”
Inelder time there was of yore,When gibes of churlish gleeWere used among our country carles,Tho’ no such thing now be:
Inelder time there was of yore,
When gibes of churlish glee
Were used among our country carles,
Tho’ no such thing now be:
The which King Alfred liking well,Forsook his stately Court,And in disguise unknown went forthTo see that jovial sport;
The which King Alfred liking well,
Forsook his stately Court,
And in disguise unknown went forth
To see that jovial sport;
How Dick and Tom in clouted shoon,And coats of russet grey,Esteemed themselves more brave than themThat went in golden ray.
How Dick and Tom in clouted shoon,
And coats of russet grey,
Esteemed themselves more brave than them
That went in golden ray.
In garments fit for such a lifeThe good King Alfred went,Ragged and torn as from his backThe beggar his clothes had rent.
In garments fit for such a life
The good King Alfred went,
Ragged and torn as from his back
The beggar his clothes had rent.
A sword and buckler good and strong,To give Jack Sauce a rap;And on his head, instead of a crown,He wore a Monmouth cap.
A sword and buckler good and strong,
To give Jack Sauce a rap;
And on his head, instead of a crown,
He wore a Monmouth cap.
Thus coasting thorough Somersetshire:Near Newton-Court he metA shepherd swain of lusty limb,That up and down did jet:
Thus coasting thorough Somersetshire:
Near Newton-Court he met
A shepherd swain of lusty limb,
That up and down did jet:
He wore a bonnet of good grey,Close-buttoned to his chin;And at his back a leather scrip,With much good meat therein.
He wore a bonnet of good grey,
Close-buttoned to his chin;
And at his back a leather scrip,
With much good meat therein.
“God speed, good Shepherd,” quoth the King“I come to be thy guest,To taste of thy good victuals here,And drink that’s of the best.
“God speed, good Shepherd,” quoth the King
“I come to be thy guest,
To taste of thy good victuals here,
And drink that’s of the best.
“Thy scrip, I know hath cheer good store”:“What then?” the Shepherd said,“Thou seem’st to be some sturdy thief,And mak’st me sore afraid.
“Thy scrip, I know hath cheer good store”:
“What then?” the Shepherd said,
“Thou seem’st to be some sturdy thief,
And mak’st me sore afraid.
“Yet if thou wilt thy dinner win,Thy sword and buckler take:And, if thou canst, into my scripTherewith an entrance make.
“Yet if thou wilt thy dinner win,
Thy sword and buckler take:
And, if thou canst, into my scrip
Therewith an entrance make.
“I tell thee, roister, it hath storeOf beef and bacon fat,With sheaves of barley-bread to makeThy chaps to water at!
“I tell thee, roister, it hath store
Of beef and bacon fat,
With sheaves of barley-bread to make
Thy chaps to water at!
“Here stands my bottle, here my bag,If thou canst win them, roister;Against thy sword and buckler here,My sheep-hook is my master.”
“Here stands my bottle, here my bag,
If thou canst win them, roister;
Against thy sword and buckler here,
My sheep-hook is my master.”
“Benedicite!” quoth our good King“It never shall be said,That Alfred, of the Shepherd’s hook,Will stand a whit afraid.”
“Benedicite!” quoth our good King
“It never shall be said,
That Alfred, of the Shepherd’s hook,
Will stand a whit afraid.”
So foundly thus they both fell to ‘t,And giving bang for bang;At ev’ry blow the Shepherd gaveKing Alfred’s sword criedtwang!
So foundly thus they both fell to ‘t,
And giving bang for bang;
At ev’ry blow the Shepherd gave
King Alfred’s sword criedtwang!
His buckler proved his chiefest fence;For still the Shepherd’s hookWas that the which King Alfred couldIn no good manner brook.
His buckler proved his chiefest fence;
For still the Shepherd’s hook
Was that the which King Alfred could
In no good manner brook.
At last, when they had fought four hours,And it grew just midday,And wearied both, with right good will,Desired each other’s stay:
At last, when they had fought four hours,
And it grew just midday,
And wearied both, with right good will,
Desired each other’s stay:
“A truce, I crave,” quoth Alfred then“Good Shepherd, hold thy hand,A sturdier fellow than thyselfLives not within the land!”
“A truce, I crave,” quoth Alfred then
“Good Shepherd, hold thy hand,
A sturdier fellow than thyself
Lives not within the land!”
“Nor a lustier roister than thou art,”The churlish Shepherd said;“To tell thee plain, thy thievish lookNow makes my heart afraid.
“Nor a lustier roister than thou art,”
The churlish Shepherd said;
“To tell thee plain, thy thievish look
Now makes my heart afraid.
“Else sure thou art some prodigal,Which hast consumed thy store,And now com’st wand’ring in this placeTo rob and steal for more.”
“Else sure thou art some prodigal,
Which hast consumed thy store,
And now com’st wand’ring in this place
To rob and steal for more.”
“Deem not of me, then,” quoth our King,“Good Shepherd, in this sort.A gentleman well known I amIn good King Alfred’s Court.”
“Deem not of me, then,” quoth our King,
“Good Shepherd, in this sort.
A gentleman well known I am
In good King Alfred’s Court.”
“The Devilthou art!” the Shepherd said,“Thou go’st in rags all torn;Thou rather seem’st, I think, to beSome beggar basely born.“But if thou wilt mend thy estate,And here a shepherd be;At night, to Gillian, my sweet wife,Thou shalt go home with me:“For she’s as good a toothless dameAs mumbleth on brown bread;Where thou shalt lie in hurden sheets,Upon a fresh straw bed.“Of whig and whey we have good store,And keep good pease-straw fire;And now and then good barley cakes,As better days require.“But for my master, which is ChiefAnd Lord of Newton-Court,He keeps, I say, his shepherd swainsIn far more braver sort;“We there have curds and clouted creamOf red cow’s morning milk;And now and then fine buttered cakesAs soft as any silk.“Of beef and reifed bacon store,That is most fat and greasy,We have likewise, to feed our chapsAnd make them glib and easy.“Thus if thou wilt my man become,This usage thou shalt have;If not, adieu; go hang thyself;And so farewell, Sir Knave.”King Alfred hearing of this gleeThe churlish Shepherd said,Was well content to be his man;So they a bargain made;A penny round the Shepherd gaveIn earnest of this match,To keep his sheep in field and fold,As shepherds use to watch.His wages shall be full ten groats,For service of a year,Yet was it not his use, old lad,To hire a man so dear:“For, did the King himself,” quoth he,“Unto my cottage come,He should not, for a twelve-month’s pay,Receive a greater sum.”
“The Devilthou art!” the Shepherd said,“Thou go’st in rags all torn;Thou rather seem’st, I think, to beSome beggar basely born.“But if thou wilt mend thy estate,And here a shepherd be;At night, to Gillian, my sweet wife,Thou shalt go home with me:“For she’s as good a toothless dameAs mumbleth on brown bread;Where thou shalt lie in hurden sheets,Upon a fresh straw bed.“Of whig and whey we have good store,And keep good pease-straw fire;And now and then good barley cakes,As better days require.“But for my master, which is ChiefAnd Lord of Newton-Court,He keeps, I say, his shepherd swainsIn far more braver sort;“We there have curds and clouted creamOf red cow’s morning milk;And now and then fine buttered cakesAs soft as any silk.“Of beef and reifed bacon store,That is most fat and greasy,We have likewise, to feed our chapsAnd make them glib and easy.“Thus if thou wilt my man become,This usage thou shalt have;If not, adieu; go hang thyself;And so farewell, Sir Knave.”King Alfred hearing of this gleeThe churlish Shepherd said,Was well content to be his man;So they a bargain made;A penny round the Shepherd gaveIn earnest of this match,To keep his sheep in field and fold,As shepherds use to watch.His wages shall be full ten groats,For service of a year,Yet was it not his use, old lad,To hire a man so dear:“For, did the King himself,” quoth he,“Unto my cottage come,He should not, for a twelve-month’s pay,Receive a greater sum.”
“The Devilthou art!” the Shepherd said,“Thou go’st in rags all torn;Thou rather seem’st, I think, to beSome beggar basely born.
“The Devilthou art!” the Shepherd said,
“Thou go’st in rags all torn;
Thou rather seem’st, I think, to be
Some beggar basely born.
“But if thou wilt mend thy estate,And here a shepherd be;At night, to Gillian, my sweet wife,Thou shalt go home with me:
“But if thou wilt mend thy estate,
And here a shepherd be;
At night, to Gillian, my sweet wife,
Thou shalt go home with me:
“For she’s as good a toothless dameAs mumbleth on brown bread;Where thou shalt lie in hurden sheets,Upon a fresh straw bed.
“For she’s as good a toothless dame
As mumbleth on brown bread;
Where thou shalt lie in hurden sheets,
Upon a fresh straw bed.
“Of whig and whey we have good store,And keep good pease-straw fire;And now and then good barley cakes,As better days require.
“Of whig and whey we have good store,
And keep good pease-straw fire;
And now and then good barley cakes,
As better days require.
“But for my master, which is ChiefAnd Lord of Newton-Court,He keeps, I say, his shepherd swainsIn far more braver sort;
“But for my master, which is Chief
And Lord of Newton-Court,
He keeps, I say, his shepherd swains
In far more braver sort;
“We there have curds and clouted creamOf red cow’s morning milk;And now and then fine buttered cakesAs soft as any silk.
“We there have curds and clouted cream
Of red cow’s morning milk;
And now and then fine buttered cakes
As soft as any silk.
“Of beef and reifed bacon store,That is most fat and greasy,We have likewise, to feed our chapsAnd make them glib and easy.
“Of beef and reifed bacon store,
That is most fat and greasy,
We have likewise, to feed our chaps
And make them glib and easy.
“Thus if thou wilt my man become,This usage thou shalt have;If not, adieu; go hang thyself;And so farewell, Sir Knave.”
“Thus if thou wilt my man become,
This usage thou shalt have;
If not, adieu; go hang thyself;
And so farewell, Sir Knave.”
King Alfred hearing of this gleeThe churlish Shepherd said,Was well content to be his man;So they a bargain made;
King Alfred hearing of this glee
The churlish Shepherd said,
Was well content to be his man;
So they a bargain made;
A penny round the Shepherd gaveIn earnest of this match,To keep his sheep in field and fold,As shepherds use to watch.
A penny round the Shepherd gave
In earnest of this match,
To keep his sheep in field and fold,
As shepherds use to watch.
His wages shall be full ten groats,For service of a year,Yet was it not his use, old lad,To hire a man so dear:
His wages shall be full ten groats,
For service of a year,
Yet was it not his use, old lad,
To hire a man so dear:
“For, did the King himself,” quoth he,“Unto my cottage come,He should not, for a twelve-month’s pay,Receive a greater sum.”
“For, did the King himself,” quoth he,
“Unto my cottage come,
He should not, for a twelve-month’s pay,
Receive a greater sum.”
Hereatthe bonny King grew blithe,To hear the clownish jest;How silly sots, as custom is,Do descant at the best.But not to spoil the foolish sport,He was content, good King,To fit the Shepherd’s humour rightIn ev’ry kind of thing.A sheep-hook then, with Patch his dog,And tar-box by his side;He, with his master, cheek by jowl,Unto old Gillian hied,Into whose sight no sooner come,“Whom have you here?” quoth she,“A fellow, I doubt, will cut our throats,So like a knave looks he.”“Not so, old Dame,” quoth Alfred straight,“Of me you need not fear;My master hired me for ten groats,To serve you one whole year:“So, good Dame Gillian, grant me leaveWithin your house to stay;For, by St. Anne, do what you can,I will not yet away.”Her churlish usage pleased him still,And put him to such proof,That he at night was almost chokedWithin that smoky roof.But as he sat with smiling cheerThe event of all to see,His dame brought forth a piece of doughWhich in the fire throws she.Where lying on the hearth to bake,By chance, the cake did burn:“What! canst thou not, thou lout,” quoth she,“Take pains the same to turn?“Thou art more quick to take it out,And eat it up half dough,Than thus to stay till’t be enough,And so thy manners show!“But serve me such another trick,I’ll thwack thee on the snout:”Which made the patient King, poor man,Of her to stand in doubt.
Hereatthe bonny King grew blithe,To hear the clownish jest;How silly sots, as custom is,Do descant at the best.But not to spoil the foolish sport,He was content, good King,To fit the Shepherd’s humour rightIn ev’ry kind of thing.A sheep-hook then, with Patch his dog,And tar-box by his side;He, with his master, cheek by jowl,Unto old Gillian hied,Into whose sight no sooner come,“Whom have you here?” quoth she,“A fellow, I doubt, will cut our throats,So like a knave looks he.”“Not so, old Dame,” quoth Alfred straight,“Of me you need not fear;My master hired me for ten groats,To serve you one whole year:“So, good Dame Gillian, grant me leaveWithin your house to stay;For, by St. Anne, do what you can,I will not yet away.”Her churlish usage pleased him still,And put him to such proof,That he at night was almost chokedWithin that smoky roof.But as he sat with smiling cheerThe event of all to see,His dame brought forth a piece of doughWhich in the fire throws she.Where lying on the hearth to bake,By chance, the cake did burn:“What! canst thou not, thou lout,” quoth she,“Take pains the same to turn?“Thou art more quick to take it out,And eat it up half dough,Than thus to stay till’t be enough,And so thy manners show!“But serve me such another trick,I’ll thwack thee on the snout:”Which made the patient King, poor man,Of her to stand in doubt.
Hereatthe bonny King grew blithe,To hear the clownish jest;How silly sots, as custom is,Do descant at the best.
Hereatthe bonny King grew blithe,
To hear the clownish jest;
How silly sots, as custom is,
Do descant at the best.
But not to spoil the foolish sport,He was content, good King,To fit the Shepherd’s humour rightIn ev’ry kind of thing.
But not to spoil the foolish sport,
He was content, good King,
To fit the Shepherd’s humour right
In ev’ry kind of thing.
A sheep-hook then, with Patch his dog,And tar-box by his side;He, with his master, cheek by jowl,Unto old Gillian hied,
A sheep-hook then, with Patch his dog,
And tar-box by his side;
He, with his master, cheek by jowl,
Unto old Gillian hied,
Into whose sight no sooner come,“Whom have you here?” quoth she,“A fellow, I doubt, will cut our throats,So like a knave looks he.”
Into whose sight no sooner come,
“Whom have you here?” quoth she,
“A fellow, I doubt, will cut our throats,
So like a knave looks he.”
“Not so, old Dame,” quoth Alfred straight,“Of me you need not fear;My master hired me for ten groats,To serve you one whole year:
“Not so, old Dame,” quoth Alfred straight,
“Of me you need not fear;
My master hired me for ten groats,
To serve you one whole year:
“So, good Dame Gillian, grant me leaveWithin your house to stay;For, by St. Anne, do what you can,I will not yet away.”
“So, good Dame Gillian, grant me leave
Within your house to stay;
For, by St. Anne, do what you can,
I will not yet away.”
Her churlish usage pleased him still,And put him to such proof,That he at night was almost chokedWithin that smoky roof.
Her churlish usage pleased him still,
And put him to such proof,
That he at night was almost choked
Within that smoky roof.
But as he sat with smiling cheerThe event of all to see,His dame brought forth a piece of doughWhich in the fire throws she.
But as he sat with smiling cheer
The event of all to see,
His dame brought forth a piece of dough
Which in the fire throws she.
Where lying on the hearth to bake,By chance, the cake did burn:“What! canst thou not, thou lout,” quoth she,“Take pains the same to turn?
Where lying on the hearth to bake,
By chance, the cake did burn:
“What! canst thou not, thou lout,” quoth she,
“Take pains the same to turn?
“Thou art more quick to take it out,And eat it up half dough,Than thus to stay till’t be enough,And so thy manners show!
“Thou art more quick to take it out,
And eat it up half dough,
Than thus to stay till’t be enough,
And so thy manners show!
“But serve me such another trick,I’ll thwack thee on the snout:”Which made the patient King, poor man,Of her to stand in doubt.
“But serve me such another trick,
I’ll thwack thee on the snout:”
Which made the patient King, poor man,
Of her to stand in doubt.
But, to be brief, to bed they wentThe old man and his wife;But never such a lodging hadKing Alfred in his life!For he was laid in white sheep’s wool,New-pulled from tanned fells;And o’er his head hanged spiders’ websAs if they had been bells.“Is this the country guise?” thought he,“Then here I will not stay,But hence be gone, as soon as breaksThe peeping of next day!”The cackling hens and geese kept roost,And perched at his side;Where, at the last, the watchful cockMade known the morning tide.Then up got Alfred, with his horn,And blew so long a blast,That it made Gillian and her groom,In bed, full sore aghast.“Arise,” quoth she, “We are undone!This night we lodged have,At unawares, within our house,A false dissembling knave.“Rise! husband, rise! he’ll cut our throats!He calleth for his mates.I’d give, old Will, our good cade lamb,He would depart our gates!”But still King Alfred blew his horn,Before them, more and more,Till that an hundred Lords and KnightsAll lighted at the door.Who cried, “All hail! all hail, good King!Long have we sought your Grace!”“And here you find, my merry men all,Your Sov’reign in this place.”“We surely must be hanged up both,Old Gillian, I much fear,”The Shepherd said, “for using thus,Our good King Alfred here.”“Oh, pardon, my Liege!” quoth Gillian then,“For my husband, and for me.By these ten bones, I never thoughtThe same that now I see!”“And by my hook,” the Shepherd said,“An oath both good and true!Before this time, O noble King,I ne’er your Highness knew!“Then pardon me and my old wife,That we may after say,When first you came into our house,It was a happy day.”“It shall be done,” said Alfred straight,“And Gillian, thy old dame,For this her churlish using me,Deserveth not much blame;“For ’tis thy country guise, I see,To be thus bluntish still,And where the plainest meaning is,Remains the smallest ill.“And, Master, lo! I tell thee now;For thy late manhood shown,A thousand wethers I’ll bestowUpon thee, for thy own;“And pasture-ground, as much as willSuffice to feed them all:And this thy cottage, I will changeInto a stately hall.”“And for the same, as duty binds,”The Shepherd said, “good King,A milk-white lamb, once ev’ry year,I’ll to your Highness bring:“And Gillian, my wife, likewise,Of wool to make you coats,Will give you as much at New Year’s tide,As shall be worth ten groats.“And in your praise my bag-pipes shallSound sweetly once a year,How Alfred, our renowned King,Most kindly hath been here.”“Thanks, Shepherd, thanks,” quoth he again:“The next time I come hither,My Lords with me, here in this house,Will all be merry together.”
But, to be brief, to bed they wentThe old man and his wife;But never such a lodging hadKing Alfred in his life!For he was laid in white sheep’s wool,New-pulled from tanned fells;And o’er his head hanged spiders’ websAs if they had been bells.“Is this the country guise?” thought he,“Then here I will not stay,But hence be gone, as soon as breaksThe peeping of next day!”The cackling hens and geese kept roost,And perched at his side;Where, at the last, the watchful cockMade known the morning tide.Then up got Alfred, with his horn,And blew so long a blast,That it made Gillian and her groom,In bed, full sore aghast.“Arise,” quoth she, “We are undone!This night we lodged have,At unawares, within our house,A false dissembling knave.“Rise! husband, rise! he’ll cut our throats!He calleth for his mates.I’d give, old Will, our good cade lamb,He would depart our gates!”But still King Alfred blew his horn,Before them, more and more,Till that an hundred Lords and KnightsAll lighted at the door.Who cried, “All hail! all hail, good King!Long have we sought your Grace!”“And here you find, my merry men all,Your Sov’reign in this place.”“We surely must be hanged up both,Old Gillian, I much fear,”The Shepherd said, “for using thus,Our good King Alfred here.”“Oh, pardon, my Liege!” quoth Gillian then,“For my husband, and for me.By these ten bones, I never thoughtThe same that now I see!”“And by my hook,” the Shepherd said,“An oath both good and true!Before this time, O noble King,I ne’er your Highness knew!“Then pardon me and my old wife,That we may after say,When first you came into our house,It was a happy day.”“It shall be done,” said Alfred straight,“And Gillian, thy old dame,For this her churlish using me,Deserveth not much blame;“For ’tis thy country guise, I see,To be thus bluntish still,And where the plainest meaning is,Remains the smallest ill.“And, Master, lo! I tell thee now;For thy late manhood shown,A thousand wethers I’ll bestowUpon thee, for thy own;“And pasture-ground, as much as willSuffice to feed them all:And this thy cottage, I will changeInto a stately hall.”“And for the same, as duty binds,”The Shepherd said, “good King,A milk-white lamb, once ev’ry year,I’ll to your Highness bring:“And Gillian, my wife, likewise,Of wool to make you coats,Will give you as much at New Year’s tide,As shall be worth ten groats.“And in your praise my bag-pipes shallSound sweetly once a year,How Alfred, our renowned King,Most kindly hath been here.”“Thanks, Shepherd, thanks,” quoth he again:“The next time I come hither,My Lords with me, here in this house,Will all be merry together.”
But, to be brief, to bed they wentThe old man and his wife;But never such a lodging hadKing Alfred in his life!
But, to be brief, to bed they went
The old man and his wife;
But never such a lodging had
King Alfred in his life!
For he was laid in white sheep’s wool,New-pulled from tanned fells;And o’er his head hanged spiders’ websAs if they had been bells.
For he was laid in white sheep’s wool,
New-pulled from tanned fells;
And o’er his head hanged spiders’ webs
As if they had been bells.
“Is this the country guise?” thought he,“Then here I will not stay,But hence be gone, as soon as breaksThe peeping of next day!”
“Is this the country guise?” thought he,
“Then here I will not stay,
But hence be gone, as soon as breaks
The peeping of next day!”
The cackling hens and geese kept roost,And perched at his side;Where, at the last, the watchful cockMade known the morning tide.
The cackling hens and geese kept roost,
And perched at his side;
Where, at the last, the watchful cock
Made known the morning tide.
Then up got Alfred, with his horn,And blew so long a blast,That it made Gillian and her groom,In bed, full sore aghast.
Then up got Alfred, with his horn,
And blew so long a blast,
That it made Gillian and her groom,
In bed, full sore aghast.
“Arise,” quoth she, “We are undone!This night we lodged have,At unawares, within our house,A false dissembling knave.
“Arise,” quoth she, “We are undone!
This night we lodged have,
At unawares, within our house,
A false dissembling knave.
“Rise! husband, rise! he’ll cut our throats!He calleth for his mates.I’d give, old Will, our good cade lamb,He would depart our gates!”
“Rise! husband, rise! he’ll cut our throats!
He calleth for his mates.
I’d give, old Will, our good cade lamb,
He would depart our gates!”
But still King Alfred blew his horn,Before them, more and more,Till that an hundred Lords and KnightsAll lighted at the door.
But still King Alfred blew his horn,
Before them, more and more,
Till that an hundred Lords and Knights
All lighted at the door.
Who cried, “All hail! all hail, good King!Long have we sought your Grace!”“And here you find, my merry men all,Your Sov’reign in this place.”
Who cried, “All hail! all hail, good King!
Long have we sought your Grace!”
“And here you find, my merry men all,
Your Sov’reign in this place.”
“We surely must be hanged up both,Old Gillian, I much fear,”The Shepherd said, “for using thus,Our good King Alfred here.”
“We surely must be hanged up both,
Old Gillian, I much fear,”
The Shepherd said, “for using thus,
Our good King Alfred here.”
“Oh, pardon, my Liege!” quoth Gillian then,“For my husband, and for me.By these ten bones, I never thoughtThe same that now I see!”
“Oh, pardon, my Liege!” quoth Gillian then,
“For my husband, and for me.
By these ten bones, I never thought
The same that now I see!”
“And by my hook,” the Shepherd said,“An oath both good and true!Before this time, O noble King,I ne’er your Highness knew!
“And by my hook,” the Shepherd said,
“An oath both good and true!
Before this time, O noble King,
I ne’er your Highness knew!
“Then pardon me and my old wife,That we may after say,When first you came into our house,It was a happy day.”
“Then pardon me and my old wife,
That we may after say,
When first you came into our house,
It was a happy day.”
“It shall be done,” said Alfred straight,“And Gillian, thy old dame,For this her churlish using me,Deserveth not much blame;
“It shall be done,” said Alfred straight,
“And Gillian, thy old dame,
For this her churlish using me,
Deserveth not much blame;
“For ’tis thy country guise, I see,To be thus bluntish still,And where the plainest meaning is,Remains the smallest ill.
“For ’tis thy country guise, I see,
To be thus bluntish still,
And where the plainest meaning is,
Remains the smallest ill.
“And, Master, lo! I tell thee now;For thy late manhood shown,A thousand wethers I’ll bestowUpon thee, for thy own;
“And, Master, lo! I tell thee now;
For thy late manhood shown,
A thousand wethers I’ll bestow
Upon thee, for thy own;
“And pasture-ground, as much as willSuffice to feed them all:And this thy cottage, I will changeInto a stately hall.”
“And pasture-ground, as much as will
Suffice to feed them all:
And this thy cottage, I will change
Into a stately hall.”
“And for the same, as duty binds,”The Shepherd said, “good King,A milk-white lamb, once ev’ry year,I’ll to your Highness bring:
“And for the same, as duty binds,”
The Shepherd said, “good King,
A milk-white lamb, once ev’ry year,
I’ll to your Highness bring:
“And Gillian, my wife, likewise,Of wool to make you coats,Will give you as much at New Year’s tide,As shall be worth ten groats.
“And Gillian, my wife, likewise,
Of wool to make you coats,
Will give you as much at New Year’s tide,
As shall be worth ten groats.
“And in your praise my bag-pipes shallSound sweetly once a year,How Alfred, our renowned King,Most kindly hath been here.”
“And in your praise my bag-pipes shall
Sound sweetly once a year,
How Alfred, our renowned King,
Most kindly hath been here.”
“Thanks, Shepherd, thanks,” quoth he again:“The next time I come hither,My Lords with me, here in this house,Will all be merry together.”
“Thanks, Shepherd, thanks,” quoth he again:
“The next time I come hither,
My Lords with me, here in this house,
Will all be merry together.”