As our king lay musing on his bed,
He bethought himself upon a time
Of a tribute that was due from France,
Had not been paid for so long a time.
Down, a-down, a-down, a-down,
Down, a-down, a-down.
He callèd on his trusty page,5
His trusty page then callèd he,
"O you must go to the king of France,
O you must go right speedilie.
"And tell him of my tribute due,
Ten ton of gold that's due to me,10
That he must send me my tribute home,
Or in French land he soon will me see."
O then away went the trusty page,
Away, away, and away went he,
Until he came to the king of France;15
Lo! he fell down on his bended knee.
"My master greets you, worthy Sire;
Ten ton of gold there is due, says he;
You must send him his tribute home,
Or in French land you will soon him see."20
"Your master's young, and of tender years,
Not fit to come into my degree;
But I will send him three tennis balls,
That with them learn to play may he."
O then away came the trusty page,25
Away, and away, and away came he,
Until he came to our gracious king;
Lo! he fell down on his bended knee.
"What news, what news, my trusty page,
What news, what news, hast thou brought to me?"30
"I've brought such news from the king of France,
That you and he will ne'er agree.
"He says you're young, and of tender years,
Not fit to come into his degree;
But he will send you three tennis balls,35
That with them you may learn to play."