Anonymous - The Boy and the Mantle lyrics

IN the third day of May To Carleile did come A kind curteous child That co'ld much of wisdome. A kirtle and a mantle This child had uppon, With brauches and ringes Full richelye bedone. He had a sute of silke About his middle drawne; Without he co'ld of curtesye He thought it much shame. ‘God speed thee, King Arthur, Sitting at thy meate; And the goodly Queene Guenever! I cannot her forget. ‘I tell you, lords in this hall, I hett you all heed, Except you be the more surer ‘Is for you to dread.' He pluck'd out of his potener, And longer wo'ld not dwell, He pull'd forth a pretty mantle Betweene two nut-shells. ‘Have thou here, King Arthur, Have thou here of mee: Give itt to thy comely queene Shapen as itt is alreadye. ‘Itt shall never become that wiffe That hath once done amisse.' Then every knight in the king's court Began to care for his. Forth came dame Guenever, To the mantle she her bed; The ladye shee was new fangle But yett she was affrayd. When shee had taken the mantle, She stoode as shee had beene madd; It was from the top to the toe As sheeres had it shread. One while was it gaule, Another while was itt greene, Another while was it wadded; Ill itt did her beseeme. Another while it was blacke, And bore the worst hue: ‘By my troth,' quoth King Arthur, ‘I thinke thou be not true.' Shee threw downe the mantle, That bright was of blee; Fast with a rudd red To her chamber can she flee. She cursed the weaver and the walker That cloth that had wrought, And bade a vengeance on his crowne That hither hath itt brought. ‘I had rather be in a wood, Under a greenè tree, Than in King Arthur's court Shamèd for to bee.' Kay call'd forth his ladye And bade her come neere; Saies, ‘Madam, and thou be guiltye I pray thee hold thee here.' Forth came his ladye Shortlye and anon; Boldlye to the mantle Then is she gone. When she had tane the mantle, And her about it cast Then was she bare All unto the waist. Then every knight That was in the King's court Talk'd, laugh'd and showted Full oft att that sport. She threw down the mantle That bright was of blee, Fast with a red rudd To her chamber can she flee. Forth came an old Knight Pattering ore a creede, And he proferr'd to this little Boy Twenty markes to his meede; And all the time of Christma**e Willingly to ffeede; For why this mantle might Doe his wiffe some need. When shee had tane the mantle Of cloth that was made, Shee had no more left on her But a ta**ell and a threed: That every knight in the King's court Bade evill might shee speed. She threw downe the mantle, That bright was of blee, Fast with a red rudd To her chamber can she flee. Craddocke call'd forth his ladye And bade her come in; Saith, ‘Winne this mantle, ladye, With a little dinne. ‘Winne this mantle, ladye, And it shal be thine If thou never did amisse Since thou wast mine. Forth came Craddocke's ladye Shortlye and anon, But boldlye to the mantle Then is shee gone. When she had tane the mantle And cast it her about, Up at her great toe It began to crinkle and crowt: Shee said, ‘Bowe downe, mantle, And shame me not for nought. ‘Once I did amisse, I tell you certainlye, When Craddocke's mouth I kist Under a greenè tree; When I kist Craddocke's mouth Before he marryed mee.' When shee had her shreeven And her sinnes shee had tolde, The mantle stood about her Right as she wo'ld; Seemelye of coulour, Glittering like gold Then every knight in Arthur's court Did her behold. The little Boy stoode Looking over a dore; [There as he look'd He was ware of a wyld bore.] He was ware of a wyld bore Wo'ld have werryed a man: He pull'd forth a wood-kniffe Fast thither that he ran: He brought in the bore's head And quitted him like a man. He brought in the bore's head, And was wonderous bold; He said there was never a cuckold's kniffe Carve itt that co'ld. Some rubb'd their knives Uppon a whetstone; Some threw them under the table, And said they had none. King Arthur and the child Stood looking them upon; All their knives' edges Turnèd backe againe. Craddocke had a litle kniffe Of iron and of steele; He birtled the bore's head Wonderous weale, That every knight in the King's court Had a morssell. The litle Boy had a horne, Of red gold that ronge; He said, ‘There was noe cuckolde Shall drinke of my horne, But he sho'ld itt sheede Either behind or beforne.' Some shedd it on their shoulder And some on their knee; He that co'ld not hitt his mouth Put it in his e'e; And he that was a cuckold Every man might him see. Craddocke wan the horne And the bore's head; His ladye wan the mantle Unto her meede; Everye such a lovely ladye God send her well to speede!