Stay thy harpe, thou proud harper,
For Gods love I pray thee,
For and thou playes as thou beginns,
Thou'lt till my bryde from mee.
He stroake upon his harpe againe,
And playd a pretty thinge;
The ladye lough a loud laughter,
As shee sate by the king.
Saies, Sell me thy harpe, thou proud harper,
And thy stringes all,
For as many gold nobles 'thou shall have'
As heere bee ringes in the hall.
What wold ye doe with my harpe,' he sayd,'
If I did sell itt yee?
"To playe my wiffe and me a fitt,
When abed together wee bee."
Now sell me, quoth hee, thy bryde soe gay,
As shee sitts by thy knee,
And as many gold nobles I will give,
As leaves been on a tree.
And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay,
Iff I did sell her thee?
More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye
To lye by mee then thee.
Hee played agayne both loud and shrille,
And Adler he did syng,
"O ladye, this is thy owne true love;
Noe harper, but a kyng.
"O ladye, this is thy owne true love,
As playnlye thou mayest see;
And He rid thee of that foule paynim,
Who partes thy love and thee."
The ladye looked, the ladye blushte,
And blushte and lookt agayne,
While Adler he hath drawne his brande,
And hath the Sowdan slayne.
Up then rose the kemperye men,
And loud they gan to crye:
Ah; traytors, yee have slayne our kyng,
And therefore yee shall dye.