A Book of Old Ballads — Complete. Various

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KING ESTMERE

       Table of Contents

      Hearken to me, gentlemen,

       Come and you shall heare;

       Ile tell you of two of the boldest brethren

       That ever borne y-were.

      The tone of them was Adler younge,

       The tother was kyng Estmere;

       The were as bolde men in their deeds,

       As any were farr and neare.

      As they were drinking ale and wine

       Within kyng Estmeres halle:

       When will ye marry a wyfe, brothèr,

       A wyfe to glad us all?

      Then bespake him kyng Estmere,

       And answered him hastilee:

       I know not that ladye in any land

       That's able to marrye with mee.

      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.

      Saies, Reade me, reade me, deare brother,

       Throughout merry Englànd,

       Where we might find a messenger

       Betwixt us towe to sende.

      Saies, You shal ryde yourselfe, brothèr,

       Ile beare you companye;

       Many throughe fals messengers are deceived,

       And I feare lest soe shold wee.

      Thus the renisht them to ryde

       Of twoe good renisht steeds,

       And when the came to kyng Adlands halle,

       Of redd gold shone their weeds.

      And when the came to kyng Adlands hall

       Before the goodlye gate,

       There they found good kyng Adlànd

       Rearing himselfe theratt.

      Now Christ thee save, good kyng Adland;

       Now Christ you save and see.

       Sayd, You be welcome, kyng Estmere,

       Right hartilye to mee.

      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.

      Yesterday was att my deere daughter

       Syr Bremor the kyng of Spayne;

       And then she nicked him of naye,

       And I doubt sheele do you the same.

      The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim,

       And 'leeveth on Mahound;

       And pitye it were that fayre ladye

       Shold marrye a heathen hound.

      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.

      Although itt is seven yeers and more

       Since my daughter was in halle,

       She shall come once downe for your sake

       To glad my guestes alle.

      Downe 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.