When he was gone away, thus gan the miller say, Here come expences and charges indeed; Now must we needs be brave, tho' we spend all we have; 45 For of new garments we have great need: Of horses and serving-men we must have store, With bridles and saddles, and twentye things more.
Tushe, sir John, quoth his wife, why should you frett, or frowne? You shall ne'er be att no charges for mee; 50 For I will turne and trim up my old russet gowne, With everye thing else as fine as may bee; And on our mill-horses swift we will ride, With pillowes and pannells, as we shall provide.
In this most statelye sort, rode they unto the court, 55 Their jolly sonne Richard rode foremost of all;
Who set up, for good hap, a cocks feather in his cap,[399] And so they jetted[400] downe to the kings hall; The merry old miller with hands on his side; His wife, like maid Marian, did mince at that tide.[401] 60
The king and his nobles that heard of their coming, Meeting this gallant knight with his brave traine; Welcome, sir knight, quoth he, with your gay lady: Good sir John Cockle, once welcome againe: And soe is the squire of courage soe free. 65 Quoth Dicke, A bots on you! do you know mee?
Quoth our king gentlye, how should I forget thee? That wast my owne bed-fellowe, well it I wot. Yea, sir, quoth Richard, and by the same token, Thou with thy farting didst make the bed hot. 70 Thou whore-son unhappy knave, then quoth the knight, Speake cleanly to our king, or else go sh***.
The king and his courtiers laugh at this heartily, While the king taketh them both by the hand; With the court-dames, and maids, like to the queen of spades 75 The millers wife did soe orderlye stand. A milk-maids courtesye at every word; And downe all the folkes were set to the board.
There the king royally, in princelye majestye, Sate at his dinner with joy and delight; 80 When they had eaten well, then he to jesting fell, And in a bowle of wine dranke to the knight: Here's to you both, in wine, ale and beer; Thanking you heartilye for my good cheer.
Quoth sir John Cockle, I'll pledge you a pottle, 85 Were it the best ale in Nottinghamshire: But then said our king, now I think of a thing; Some of your lightfoote I would we had here. Ho! ho! quoth Richard, full well I may say it, 'Tis knavery to eate it, and then to betray it. 90
