And, as he musing thus did lye,

He thought for to devise

How he might have her companye,

That so did 'maze his eyes.

40

In thee, quoth he, doth rest my life;

For surely thou shalt be my wife,

Or else this hand with bloody knife

The Gods shall sure suffice.

Then from his bed he soon arose,
And to his pallace gate he goes;
Full little then this begger knowes
When she the king espies.

The Gods preserve your majesty,
The beggers all gan cry:
Vouchsafe to give your charity

Our childrens food to buy.

The king to them his pursse

did cast,

And they to part it made great haste;

45

50

For thou, quoth he, shalt be my wife,
And honoured for my queene;
With thee I meane to lead my life,

As shortly shall be seene:

Our wedding shall appointed be,

65

And every thing in its degree:

Come on, quoth he, and follow me,
Thou shalt go shift thee cleané.

What is thy name, faire maid? quoth he.

And straight againe as pale as lead,

But not a word at all she said,

She was in such amaze.

At last she spake with trembling voyce,

And said, O king, I doe rejoyce

That

you wil take me for your choyce, And my degree's so base.

Shakespeare (who alludes to this ballad in his "Love's Labour lost," act iv. sc. 1.) gives the Beggar's name Zenelophon, according to all the old editions: but this seems to be a corruption; for Penelophon; in the text, sounds more like the name of a Woman.-The story of the King and the Beggar is also alluded to in K. Rich. II, act v. sc. 3.

And

And when the wedding day was come,
The king commanded strait
The noblemen both all and some
Upon the queene to wait.
And she behaved herself that day,
As if she had never walkt the way;
She had forgot her gowne of gray,
Which she did weare of late.

85

Ver. 90. i. e. tramped the streets.

Ver. 105. Here the Poet addresses himself to his mistress.

And

And thus they led a quiet life

During their princely raigne;

And in a tombe were buried both,
As writers sheweth plaine.

The lords they tooke it grievously,

The ladies tooke it heavily,
The commons cryed pitiously,

Their death to them was paine,
Their fame did sound so passingly,

That it did pierce the starry sky,

And throughout all the world did flye
To every princes realme *.

Ver. 112. Sheweth was anciently the plur. numb.

110

115

120

* An ingenious friend thinks the two last stanzas should change place.

VII.

TAKE THY OLD CLOAK ABOUT THEE,

-is supposed to have been originally a Scotch Ballad. The reader here has an ancient copy in the English idiom, with an additional stanza (the 2d) never before printed. This curiosity is preserved in the Editor's folio MS. but not without corruptions, which are here removed by the assistance of the Scottish Edit. Shakespeare, in his OTHELLO, act ii. has quoted one stanza, with some variations, which are here adopted: the old MS. readings of that stanza are however given in the margin.

THIS winters weather itt waxeth cold,

And frost doth freese on every hill,
And Boreas blowes his blasts soe bold,
That all our cattell are like to spill;
Bell my wiffe, who loves noe strife,
She sayd unto me quietlye,
Rise up, and save cow Crumbockes liffe,
Man, put thine old cloake about thee.

He.

O Bell, why dost thou flyte and scorne ?'
Thou kenst my cloak is very thin:

Itt is soe bare and overworne

A cricke he theron cannot renn :
Then Ile noe longer borrowe nor lend,

• For once Ile new appareld bee,

To-morrow Ile to towne and spend,'

For Ile have a new cloake about mee.

SHE.

Cow Crumbocke is a very good cowe,

Shee ha beene alwayes true to the payle,

Shee has helpt us to butter and cheese, I trow,

And other things shee will not fayle;

I wold be loth to see her pine,

Good husband, councell take of mee,

It is not for us to go soe fine,

VOL. 1.

Man, take thine old cloake about thee.