VIII
‘Now God thee bless, my son, my heir,
His servant in heaven that thou may be!
What tidings hast thou brought me, child?
Thou art comen home so hastilye.’—
IX
‘Good tidings, father, I have you brought,
Good tidings I hope it is to thee;
There’s never a book in all Scotland
But I can read it truëlye.’
X
A joyèd man his father was
All in the place where he did stand:
‘My son, thou shalt go into France,
To learn the speeches of ilka land.’
XI
‘Who shall go with him?’ said his lady;
‘Husband, we have no more but he.’—
‘Madam,’ he saith, ‘my hend[470] steward,
For he hath been true to you and me.’
XII
She call’d the steward to an account,
A thousand pound she gave him anon;
Says, ‘Steward, I’ll give thee as mickle more
If thou be as good to my one son.’—