  IHearken to me, gentlemen, Come and you shall heare; Ile tell you of two of the boldest brether That ever bornÈ were. IIThe tone of them was Adler Younge, The tother was Kyng Estmere; They were as bolde men in their deeds As any were, farr and neare. IIIAs they were drinking ale and wine Within his brother’s hall, ‘When will ye marry a wyfe, brother, A wyfe to glad us all?’ IVThen bespake him Kyng Estmere, And answered him hartilye: ‘I know not that ladye in any land, That’s able to marrye with mee.’— V‘Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother, Men call her bright and sheene; If I were kyng here in your stead, That ladye shold be my queene.’— VISaies, ‘Reade me, reade me, deare brother, Throughout merry England, Where we might find a messenger Betwixt us towe to sende.’— VIISaies, ‘You shal ryde yourselfe, brother, Ile beare you companye; Many a man throughe fals messengers is deceived, And I feare lest soe shold wee.’ VIIIThus they renisht Of twoe good renisht steeds, And when they came to Kyng Adland’s halle, Of redd gold shone their weeds IXAnd when they came to Kyng Adland’s halle, Before the goodlye gate, There they found good Kyng Adland Rearing X‘Now Christ thee save, good Kyng Adland; Now Christ you save and see.’— Sayd, ‘You be welcome, Kyng Estmere, Right hartilye to mee.’ XI‘You have a daughter,’ said Adler Younge, ‘Men call her bright and sheene; My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe, Of Englande to be queene.’— XII‘Yesterday was att my deere daughter Kyng Bremor his sonne of Spayn, And then she nickÈd And I doubt sheele do you the same.’— XIII‘The Kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim, And ’lieveth on Mahound, And pitye it were that fayre ladye Shold marry a heathen hound. XIV‘But grant to me,’ sayes Kyng Estmere, ‘For my love I you praye, That I may see your daughter deere Before I goe hence awaye.’— XV‘Although itt is seven yeers and more Since my daughter was in halle, She shall come once downe for your sake, To glad my guestÈs alle.’ XVIDowne then came that mayden fayre, With ladyes laced in pall And halfe a hundred of bold knightes, To bring her from bowre to hall, And as many gentle squiers, To tend upon them all. XVIIThe talents of golde were on her head sette Hanged low downe to her knee, And everye ring on her small finger Shone of the chrystall free. XVIIISaies, ‘God you save, my deere madam,’ Saies, ‘God you save and see!’— Said, ‘You be welcome, Kyng Estmere, Right welcome unto mee. XIX‘And, if you love me, as you saye, Soe well and hartilee, All that ever you are comen about Soone sped now itt shal bee.’ XXThen bespake her father deare: ‘My daughter, I saye naye; Remember well the Kyng of Spayne, What he sayd yesterdaye. XXI‘He wold pull downe my halles and castles, And reave me of my lyfe; I cannot blame him if he doe, If I reave him of his wyfe.’— XXII‘Your castles and your towres, father, Are stronglye built aboute, And therefore of the Kyng his sonne of Spaine Wee neede not stande in doubt. XXIII‘Plight me your troth, nowe, Kyng Estmere, By heaven and your righte hand, That you will marrye me to your wyfe, And make me queene of your land.’ XXIVThen Kyng Estmere he plight his troth, By heaven and his righte hand, That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe, And make her queene of his land. XXVAnd he tooke leave of that ladye fayre, |
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