A PLEASANT HISTORY OF Roswall and Lillian.  
DECLARING The occasion of Roswall his removing from his Native Kingdom, to the Kingdom of Bealm, and what befell him in his journey from his S●●ward: The entertainment he met with from an aged Wife: His Education at School; With his fortunate admission to be servant to Lillian the King's only Daughter, with whom she fell deeply in love. The reward of the three Lords by whom he attained the honour of the three days just before the Marriage of the Steward, who was known to 〈◊〉 a Traitor and therefore justly executed; with the renewed wished-for Marriage betwixt Roswall and Lillian: His thankful remembrance of his friends; the number of his children, and their good fortune, all worthy reading.  
EDINBURGH, Printed by I. H. Anno, 1663.   

THE HISTORY OF Roswall and Lillian.  

NOw will ye list a little space,  
And I shall send you to solace:  
You to solace, and be blithe,  
Harken, ye shall hear belyve  
A tale that is of verity,  
If ye will hearken unto me.   

In Naples lived there a King,  
Had all the lands in Governing.  
Who had a Lady fair and young,  
Whose name was called Lillian:  
This Lady pleasant was and fair,  
Bore him a Son, which was his Heir,  
Whose name was called Roswall:  
Of fairer heard I never tell;  
Princes to him could not compare,  
Ulysses nor Gandifere,  
Achilles nor Troyalus,  
Nor yet his Father Priamus:  
The Knight that kept the Parent well,  
Was not so fair as Roswall.   

There lived into that Country,  
Worthy noble Lords three,  
That to the King had done treason,  
Therefore he put them in prison;  
And there he held them many a day,  
Till they were aged quite away,  
Aged and quite o'ergrown with hair,  
While of their lives they did despair,  
That they knew of no remedy,  
But looked after death daily;  
So it befell upon a day  
The young Prince he went to play,  
Him to play and to solace,  
And so it happened in that case,  
Toward the Prison he is gone,  
To hear their Lords making their moan,  
He sat down and a little stayed,  
To hearken what their Lords said:  
They said, dear God, have mind of us,  
Even for the sake of dear jesus,  
Who bought us with his precious blood,  
And for us died on the rood,  
To help us, if thy will it be,  
And of this Prison make us free.   

The young Prince did hear their moan,  
He heard their mourning and their groan:  
Then to his Chamber he is gone,  
Heavy in heart, as sad as stone;  
He sat down and did foresee,  
How best their Lords might helped be,  
And so he thought upon a wile,  
The King how he might best beguile;  
A custom than had the jailors,  
Who keeped ay the Prisoners,  
After the doors all locked were,  
Unto the King the keys to bear,  
The King used them to lay  
Under his bed-head privily.  
The Prince soon perceiving had,  
Where the King the keys laid:  
And on a night he watch did keep  
Till that the King was fallen asleep:  
He took the keys full privily,  
And to the Prison gone is he,  
Who did deliver their Lords three,  
Bade them pass home to their Country:  
And then they swore by sweet jesus,  
If ever ye mister help of us,  
We shall you help into your need:  
Glad was he having done the deed.  
The keys laid under his Father's head,  
And went and steeped as he were dead.   

The King risen and eke the Queen,  
The Principal, and Lords bedeen;  
They went to mess and then to dine,  
The jailors all did come in sign,  
Asked from the King the keys,  
Which to deliver did him please:  
Then to the Prison they went in fear,  
To give the Lords their dinner there;  
But when they came all were away,  
They knew not what to do nor say.  
The Prisoners away were gone,  
How, or what way known to none.  
The King was then so dolorous,  
That the three Lords were scaped thus:  
He says, O Lord, how may this be,  
That their Prisoners hath been made free:  
Under my bed-head lay the keys,  
None knew thereof, as God me ease.  
And here I make a solemn vow,  
Before you all my Lords now,  
Who ere he be hath done the deed,  
He shall be hanged without remeed:  
Or else so soon as I him see,  
My own two hands his bane shall be:  
It was reported through the Town,  
That the young Prince the deed had done;  
The word throughout the Palace ran,  
Which made the King a grieved man,  
When he the vow considered,  
And that his Son had done the deed.  
The Queen then far more grieved was:  
She mourned and wéeped with her face.  
And quickly to the King went she,  
Who, kneeling down upon her knee,  
Thus said, for him that sits on high,  
Let your Son's fault forgiven be:  
That may not be Madam, he said,  
For I a faithful vow have made,  
That assoon as I may him see,  
My own two hands his bane shall be;  
Therefore I pray you, day and night,  
To keep him well out of my sight,  
Till I send him to some Country,  
Where he may safely keeped be.  
And then in haste down sat the King,  
Wrote letters without tarrying,  
To send his Son to the King of Bealm,  
For to remain in that Realm.  
Still to continue with the King,  
Till he sent for his home-coming,  
Letters in haste then soon wrote he,  
Desiring the King especially,  
For to receive his own dear Son,  
Which for most trust was sent to him.  
His furnishing was made ready,  
And he got gold in great plenty.   

The King's Steward, a stalward Knight,  
Was made to keep him day and night,  
And so his servant for to be,  
To keep him well in that Country:  
The Queen did look to the Steward,  
And said, my love, my joy, my heart,  
Sir Steward, now I do thee pray,  
To keep my Son both night and day,  
And serve him both by foot and hand,  
And thou shalt have both gold and land,  
Or yet of any other thing  
That thou'lt seek from me or the King,  
He said, Madam, that may not be,  
But I will serve him tenderly.   

She says, my fair Son Roswall,  
Harken what I to thee will tell,  
When thou dost come to that Country,  
Carry thyself right honestly,  
Be Courteous, Genty, kind and free,  
And use ay in good company:  
And if thou needest aught to spend,  
Send word to me, I shall thee send.  
He took his leave then of the Queen,  
And of her Ladies all bedeen:  
Great mourning and great care they made  
When that out of the Town they rade,  
The Gracious God mote be his guide.  
So on a time as they did ride,  
Side for side, hand for hand road they,  
None other saw they in the way,  
Only they two in company,  
Came to a River fair to see:  
The Prince then said unto the Knight,  
My counsel is that here we light:  
For in this place I thirst so sore,  
That further can I ride no more,  
Till of this water I get my fill:  
Wots ye how I may win there till;  
The Knight leapt down deliverlie,  
And drank the water busily:  
He bade him light and drink also  
His fill ere he should further go:  
And on his belly, as he lay down  
To drink the water ready bown.  
The false Knight took him by the feet,  
And vowed to throw him in the deep,  
Unless that he did swear an oath,  
That he the Gold and letters both  
Should unto him resign gladly,  
And his servant become truly,  
To serve him well both day and night,  
This oath he made to the false Knight:  
He the Master, and he the knave:  
He gave to him what he would crave.  
And then anon withouten stay,  
They mounted both and went their way,  
While they came to the Land of Bealm,  
And had past much of that Realm.   

The King's Palace when they came near  
Roswall made sorry cheer:  
For the Knight did him forbid,  
Further with him for to ride;  
He would fee servants in the Town,  
Abundance of all fashion.  
Away he road then with his gold,  
Leaving poor Roswall on the mould,  
With not a penny in's company  
To buy his dinner, though he should die.  
So to the Town in by he road,  
And in the King's Palace abode.  
In his heart was great rejoicing,  
Presented his letters to the King;  
He read his letters hastily,  
And said, Sir, welcome mot ye be;  
Ye shall to me be love and dear,  
So long as ye will tarry here,  
Now in the Court we let him dwell.  
And we will speak of Roswall▪   

Roswall was mourning on the mould,  
Wanting his letters and his gold:  
He says, alace, and woe is me,  
For lack of food, I'm like to die;  
O that my Mother knew my skaith.  
My Father and my Mother baith:  
For now I wots not what to do,  
Nor what hand to turn me to:  
Neither know I how to call me,  
But I'm Dissawar what  befall me,  
As than he making was his moan,  
Beside none but himself alone,  
He looked a little, and did espy  
A little house, none else hard by;  
To himself he says quickly,  
To yonder house I will me hy,  
And ask some vittals for this night,  
And harbour while the day be light:  
He stepped forth right sturdily,  
And to the little house went he:  
He knocked a little at the door,  
And then went in upon the floor,  
He found no creature therein,  
Neither to make noise nor din,  
But a silly and aged wife,  
In chastity had led her life:  
He says, Dame, for Saint july,  
This night let me have harbury,  
And als some vittals till the morn,  
For him that was in Bethlehem born;  
She says, to such meat as I have  
Ye're welcome, part thereof receive,  
She set him down, and gave him meat,  
Even of the best that she could get,  
And prayed him to make good cheer,  
For you are very welcome here;  
I know ye are of far Country,  
For ye are seemly for to see.  
Tell me your name in charity,  
And do not it deny to me:  
He says, Dissawar they call me,  
So was I called in my country:  
She says, Dissawar, woe is me,  
That is a poor name verily  
Yet Dissawar, you shall not be,  
For good help you shall have of me:  
I have a son no children more,  
Who each day to the School doth go:  
If ye will bide still here with me,  
To him full welcome will ye be;  
And daily you and he together  
May go to School and learn each other;  
He says, good Dame, God you foryield,  
For here I get of you good bield.  
As he and she was thus talkand,  
In comes her son even at her hand:  
Good Dame, he says, my mother dear,  
Who's this that ye have gotten here,  
This is a Clerk of far Country,  
Would fain go to the School with thee;  
He says dear welcome mot he be,  
For I have got good company.  
And then they passed to their supper,  
For his sake had the better cheer.  
Then Dissawar fair of face,  
After supper said the grace.  
And quickly to their beds went they,  
And sléeped till it was near day,  
And then the morn right airly risen,  
And put upon them all their ,  
They went to School right hastily,  
By that time they could daylight see.  
Into the School the Master came,  
And asked at Dissawar his name:  
He says, Dissawar they call me,  
So was I called in my Country.  
The Master said, now Dissawar,  
Thou shalt want neither meat nor lair:  
When ever thou needest, come to me,  
And I shall make you good supply.  
Great skill of learning before he had  
Into the Country where he was bred.  
He had not been a month there,  
Into the School even little maire,  
But the Steward unto the King  
Of Dissawar had perceiving:  
He did set well his courtesy,  
His nature and his great beauty;  
Into his heart he greatly thought  
In service to have him, if he might  
The Steward to the Wife is gone,  
And says, God save you fair Madam,  
Where got ye this child so fair,  
That to this Lodging makes repair?  
Sir, they do call him Dissawar,  
And ay hes done since he came here:  
He is my joy, he is my heart,  
For he and I shall never part;  
He says, Madam, that may not be,  
He must go to the Court with me:  
She says, Sir, it's against my will,  
If ye will let him here stay still.  
The Steward took Dissawar fair of face,  
And brought him to the King's Grace.  
He had not been a month there,  
Into service or little maire,  
But he was loved of old and young,  
As he had been a Prince or King.   

The King he had a Daughter fair,  
And no more bairns she was his Heir,  
She was by name called Lillian,  
Of fairer forsooth I read of nane:  
Not the Noble French Queen,  
Nor yet the Lady Pelicane,  
Nor yet Helen that fair Lady,  
Nor yet the true Philippie,  
Nor yet the Lady Crystalline  
Was not so fair as Lillian,  
This lusty Lady Lillian  
Choosed him to be her Chamberlain,  
Of which the Steward was full woe,  
That he so soon should part him fro:  
Yet would not say nay to Lillian,  
Of which the Lady was right fain,  
And entered him in her service,  
For he was both leill, true and wise:  
He broke her bread, and made good cheer,  
Filled the cup, the wine that bore:  
She took such comfort then of him,  
She loved him better nor all her kin.  
Aside she called him on a day,  
And thus unto him she did say,  
Now tell me Dissawar for charity,  
Into what Country born was ye?  
He said I'm of a far Country,  
My father's a man of a low degree:  
I cannot trust, said she, by the rood,  
But you are come of noble blood:  
For I know by your courtesy,  
And by your wonder fair body,  
That ye are come of noble blood,  
This is my reason, by the rood,  
Madam, by that ye may well ken,  
That I am come of sober men.  
Dissawar, my little flower,  
I wish thou were my paramour:  
God sen I had thee to be King,  
That I might wed you with a King.  
In her arms she did him embrace,  
And kissed him thrice into that place.  
He kneeled down upon his knee,  
And thanked that Lady heartily:  
He said, Lady, God you foreyéeld,  
That ye should love so poor a child;  
And I now, Lady, while I die,  
Love you again most heartily,  
Within his heart he was right glad  
And he did think mair than he said.  
Soon after that this Lady fair,  
Said anon to Dissawar,  
Dissawar, I do you pray,  
Cast that name from you away;  
Call you Hector or Oliver  
Ye are so fair without compare:  
Call yourself Sir Porteous,  
Or else the worthy Emedus;  
Call you the noble Predicase.  
Who was of fair and comely face;  
Because that I love you so well,  
Let your name be Sir Lion dale,  
Or great Florent of Albany,  
My heart, if ye bear love to me;  
Or call you Lancelot du Lake,  
For your dearest true loves sake;  
Call you the Knight of Arms green,  
For the love of your Lady shéen:  
He says, Dissawar they must call me,  
While afterward I more do see.  
If ye will have no other name,  
Call you a Squire to the King,  
Or to his daughter Chamberlan,  
For love of his daughter Lillian.  
She laughed, and once or twice him kissed,  
And to her Ladies then she passed,  
And Dissawar was very glad,  
For the joy he of the Lady had,   

So it befell upon a day,  
His Father to his Mother did say,  
I think right long for to hear tell  
Of my fair son Roswall:  
I think so long I cannot sleep,  
With that the Queen began to weep,  
Who said, good Sir, for charity,  
Let some be sent him for to see:  
It is long since he from us went,  
Perchance his Gold is now all spent.  
As the King his Father was to send,  
There came Messengers even at hand  
With letters from that noble King,  
Which made him glad in every thing.  
But ●hey beguiled were both, so  
That none of them the case did know:  
The King had written on this manner,  
Desiring his Son to his Daughter,  
The King his Father was right glad,  
That such a marriage should be made;  
Therefore he every way consented,  
Even as the King by writ had sent it;  
An answer to him he did send,  
When he the wedding would intent,  
That he might send Lords of that Country  
To bear witness to that marriage free.  
The Messengers went home again,  
And told their King what they had done;  
And then anon without delay  
Appointed was the Marriage day:  
Who sent word to the noble King,  
And he without more tarrying,  
Sent to solemnize that day,  
An Earl and Lusty Lords twain:  
With them went two lusty Knights,  
And many a gallant Squire wight:  
The King of Bealm caused make a cry,  
Three days before the marriage day,  
To come and Just a course of Wier,  
Before me and my Queen full dear,  
To see who best will undertake,  
To Just then for his Lady's sake.  
But when to Lillian it was told,  
Wit ye well her heart was cold;  
For she loved none but Dissawar.  
Who, went and told him less and mair,  
Said, at yond just you must be,  
For to Just for your Lady:  
And if ye will not Just for me,  
Just for your Love where ere she be:  
He saith, Lady, by my good faith,  
I ne'er was ●eed with such a play,  
For I had rather be at hunting,  
Then singing, dancing, or at just:  
Yet I shall stand by you Lady,  
To see who bears away the gree.  
And so they parted on that night:  
And on the morn when it was light,  
Dissawar got up his way,  
Went to the Forest be it was day:  
His hounds leading into his hand,  
Full well triping at his command.  
And when he came to the Forest,  
He looked East, and looked West,  
He looked over the bents brown,  
Where he saw neither house nor town,  
The Myrle and Mavese shouted shrile,  
The Sun blinked on every hill:  
In his heart he had great rejoicing  
Of the birds full sweet singing:  
He looked down upon the spray,  
When it was nine hours of the day,  
And saw a little space him fra,  
A Knight coming, with him not mae,  
Riding on a milk-white steed,  
And all milk-white was his weed,  
To Dissawar he came ridand,  
And lighted down even at his hand,  
And said, anon, my full sweet thing,  
I must be dressed in your clothing:  
Take you my armour and my steed,  
And dress you all into my weed:  
And to you just ye must fair,  
To win you praise and honour mair:  
When ye have done come ye to me,  
Of Vennisoun ye shall have plenty.  
Then Dissawar armed him quickly:  
The Knight him helped that stood by:  
He stoutly lap upon his steed,  
And ran Lances through the Mied,  
Till he came to the justing-place,  
He saw his Mistress face to face,  
And he saw many Ladies gay,  
And many Lords in rich array,  
And he saw many a lusty Knight,  
just before him in his sight:  
He rade unto the just place,  
Where Knights encountered face to face,  
And many saddles toomed he there,  
Both of Knights and many a squire:  
All men wondered what he was,  
That of just had such praise:  
The Lady's heart was wonder fair  
And said, alace for Dissawar.  
Why would he not tarry with me,  
This Noble just for to see:  
And when the just was near done,  
Then he beheld the steward soon,  
His héels turn upward there he made,  
All that him saw were sore afraid.  
Then he unto the Forest ran,  
As light as ever did a man:  
The King cried with voice on high,  
Go take you Knight, bring him to me,  
And whoso brings him to my hand,  
Shall have an Earldom of land:  
But all for nought, it was in vain,  
For to the woods he rade again,  
Delivered his Armour and his steed,  
And breast himself in his own weed:  
The Lord had taken him Vennisoun,  
And homeward with them made he bown,  
As for help desired none he,  
Presented them to his Lady.  
She says, now wherefore Dissawar  
Beguiled ye me in this manner?  
He answered, my Lady dear,  
Why say ye that unto me here?  
Wherefore shall I come to just?  
I have no skill of such a thing.  
She says a Knight with a white steed,  
And all milk-white was his weed,  
He hath born away the 'gree,  
Of him is spoken great plenty:  
And if ye bide the morn with me,  
Ye peradventure shall him see,  
I shall do so, said he, Madam,  
The morn I will not pass from home,  
Then Lillian to her Ladies went,  
Passed to their supper incontinent:  
And on the morn right timously,  
He did rise up be he might see,  
And forth unto the Forest went,  
After the night was fully spent:  
When that he came to those woods green,  
The place where he before had been;  
Under the shadow of a tree  
He laid him down right privately.  
The birds did sing with pleasant voice,  
He thought himself in Paradise,  
And to bear part, for joy sang he  
Even for the love of his Lady,  
How she loved him her Paramour,  
And she of all the world the flower:  
For pleasure of the weather fair,  
So clear and pleasant was the air,  
His heart was light on leaf on tree,  
When that he thought on his Lady.  
He looked then over an hill,  
And saw a Knight coming him till,  
Having a red shield and a red spear,  
And all red shined his gear.  
To Dissawar he came full soon,  
And at his hand he lighted down,  
And said, Sir, take this horse of mine,  
And all my Armour good and fine:  
To the just in haste ride ye,  
The gracious God your guide be:  
And soon to him he reached a Spear,  
Which he did take withouten fear:  
He than did ride forth merrily,  
And soon his Lady can he see,  
And she was clothed all in white,  
To look on her was great delight:  
He made the Lady full gay halsing,  
And then he went to the just:  
And if he jousted well before,  
Better that day by fifteen score.  
He hunted the Knights here and there,  
Even as the hound doth hunt the Hare,  
And many Knights he bore to ground,  
And some of them got their deeds wound.  
Of the Steward he got a sight,  
And on his arse he made him light,  
And then unto the Forest ran,  
As light as ever did a man.  
The King cried with voice on high,  
Go take yond Knight, bring him to me,  
And whoso brings him to my hand  
Shall have an Earldom of land:  
But all for nought it was in vain,  
For to the Woods he rade again.  
When he came there the Knight he leugh,  
Have I not Vennisoun enough?  
Ye have been at the field all day,  
And I at hunting and at play,  
Then Dissawar gave him his steed,  
His shield, his armour, and his weed:  
His steed was all of apple-gray,  
None better was, I dare well say.  
Then Dissawar went home quickly,  
With a white Hind to his Lady,  
When he came home, as I heard tell,  
She greatly did at him marvel  
That he came not to the just:  
Lady, grieve not at such a thing.  
She says, a Knight with a grey steed,  
And all red shined his weed,  
This day hath born away the 'gree,  
Of him is spoken great plenty:  
And I have ever in my thought  
That it was you the deed hath wrought.  
I pray, Madam, trust no such thing,  
For I no skill have of just.  
She says the morn go not away,  
Because it is the hindmost day:  
But Dissawar full soon the morn  
Got up and blew his hunting horn,  
And went unto the Forest soon  
With hounds and ratches of renown,  
And there he had great comforting  
Of all the birds full sweet singing,  
And then he looked up full swyth,  
He saw a sight which made him blithe,  
A Knight upon a stalward Steed,  
And glittering Gold was all his weed:  
His shield was red, his armour green,  
O'er all the land it might be seen.  
To Dissawar he came full soon,  
And at his hand he lighted down,  
And said, Sir, take this horse of mine,  
And all my armour good and fine:  
To the just in haste ride ye,  
The Gracious God your guide be:  
And even so soon as he came there,  
He saw his Lady, that was so fair:  
And all the weed that she did wear,  
In glittering red gold did appear,  
He at his Lady did cast a King,  
Then past he on to the just;  
He rade among them with such force,  
That he dang down both man and horse:  
Out through the field when that he ran,  
At each stroke he dang down a man.  
Sir Ronald and Sir Oliver  
In their just made not such steir,  
When he beheld the Steward than  
He dang him down both horse and man;  
Both horse and man on the ground lay,  
And of his ribs were broken twain.  
Then to the Forest he rade full soon,  
When that the just was all done;  
As swift as Falcon of his flight  
Upon a bird when he doth light.  
The King cried with voice full shrill  
Go take you Knight, bring him me till;  
And whoso brings him to me here,  
Shall have my land and daughter dear,  
But all for nought, it was in vain,  
For to the woods he rade again,  
Delivered his armour and his Steed,  
And dressed himself in his own weed:  
He thanked him right reverently,  
Then came the other two Knights in hy.  
The same two Knights we spoke of air,  
Who said, O blessed Master dear,  
From prison you delivered us,  
Wherefore mot thank you sweet jesus,  
And this is also most certain,  
We promised to you again,  
If ever you help of us did need,  
We should perform the same with speed.  
The morn the marriage should be  
Of the Steward who beguiled thee:  
But therefore do thou nothing fear,  
The Bride's bed he shall not come near.  
They took their leave withouten mair,  
And he went to his Lady fair.  
And when that they were coming home  
From the just every one,  
He went unto his Lady gent,  
Saluting her incontinent.  
Are ye, Dissawar, welcome to me,  
That so oft hath beguiled me?  
But yet I must forgive you soon  
Of all that ever you have done,  
She says, a Knight with a stalward steed,  
And glittering gold was all his weed,  
This day hath born away the 'gree  
Of all the just days three.  
If to my Father the truth ye tell,  
That it was you jousted so well:  
Then dare I surely take in hand,  
He'll give you me and all the land.  
The morn the marriage should be  
Betwixt you young Prince and me:  
But here I make a solemn vow,  
I never shall have man but you:  
Therefore I hearty do you pray,  
The morn that ye go not away.  
I shall do that, my Lady bright,  
I shall not go out of your sight.  
Then she the morn right airly risen,  
And put upon her all her ,  
Unto the King than is she gone,  
Who kneeled on her knees full soon.  
Then said he, Lillian, what would ye?  
Declare your mind now unto me:  
If it be lawful ye require,  
I shall it grant at your desire.  
Grant me my ask for Christ's sake,  
That is a Prince to be my maik.  
Ask on, he says, how that may be,  
I have devised one for thee.  
She says, they call him Dissawar,  
I ask no more at you, Father.  
That ask I do tell thee plain,  
Is not befitting for thy train:  
For he is but a Bachelor,  
For aught that I do know or hear:  
We know of none he is become,  
But this man is a great King's son:  
Therefore ye shall let such things be,  
For it becomes not you nor me,  
That we the King's son should forbear,  
And match you with a Bachelor:  
To me it were a great defame,  
And also to you a very shame:  
Therefore I counsel you forbear,  
And wed yond Prince withouten péer.  
And then she passed the Kirk until,  
And married him sore against her will,  
And when the marriage was done,  
S●e past unto her chamber soon,  
And mourned there till dinner time,  
That she was brought to hall to dine:  
The King was set and eke the Queen,  
The said Prince and Lillian sheen:  
Then every Lord and gentle Knight  
Marched with a Lady bright:  
The Courses came abundantly,  
With bread and wine in great plenty,  
At midst of dinner as they sat,  
In came the three Lords at the gate:  
They did salute the King and Queen,  
And eke fair Lady Lillian sheen:  
But the Bridegroom that sat near by,  
To him they made no courtesy.  
The King thereat great marvel had,  
That they to him no reverence made:  
And said, Why do ye not resign  
Homage to your Prince and King?  
They said, By Him that us dear bought,  
Into the hall we see him nought:  
Then all the hall they looked round,  
At last him in a chamber found;  
And then they kneeled down in high,  
Saluting him right reverently,  
And by the hand they have him ta'en.  
Then marvelled in hall ilk ane:  
The King wondered and eke the Queen,  
But blithe was Lady Lillian.  
They did inquire how it befell,  
So he the manner did them tell,  
How that he thought him for to drown,  
And in the River cast him down:  
And how his gold from him took he,  
And letters, to let him go free:  
How he made him an oath to take,  
Which will turn to his shame and lack,  
That I a servant so should be  
To him my Father sent with me;  
The which he could not well deny,  
But granted all right hastily.  
Then Roswall told unto the King  
All the manner of the just▪  
And showed to him that it was he,  
Who won the just days three.  
And then they took the Steward soon,  
And hanged him high afternoon.  
Then to the Kirk they passed there,  
And married him and Lillian fair.  
There is no tongue on earth can tell  
The joy that then had Roswall:  
And wit ye well if he was fain,  
Feigner was Lady Lillian.  
For blyther was not Meledas,  
When as the married Claudias,  
Nor Belfant that most pleasant flower,  
When she got Ronald to paramour,  
As was this Lady Lillian:  
In heart she was right wonder fain.  
They eaten the spice, and drank the wine,  
And past into their dancing sign:  
The King danced with the Queen,  
Then Roswall and Lillian sheen:  
Every Lord and gentle Knight  
Danced with a Lady bright:  
They danced there till supper time,  
S●●ast unto their supper sign:  
〈◊〉 was no Knight, the truth to tell,  
That at his supper ture so well:  
When that the supper ended was,  
A Bishop risen and said the grace,  
And sign the● passed to the dancing,  
The Minstrels played with pleasant spring:  
Roswall danced with the Queen,  
The King himself with Lillian:  
Then every Lord and gentle Knight  
Danced with a Lady bright,  
The Minstrels played with good will,  
Till they had danced all their fill:  
They eat the spice, they drank the wine,  
Unto their beds they passed sign,  
Roswall and Lillian glad  
First are they gone unto their bed:  
But what they did I cannot say,  
I wots they sleeped not till day.  
The Bridal lasted twenty days,  
With dancing, carols, and many plays,  
With just and with Tornament.  
Then for the old wife he sent,  
And to the King the manner told,  
How she did in her house him hold,  
And sent him to School with her son,  
And how the Master treated him:  
How the Steward did him perceive,  
And from the wife did him receive,  
And loved him even as his son,  
In service to remain with him.  
The King did marvel much again  
To hear their tidings so certain.  
Then Roswall rewarded soon  
All that ever him good had done:  
First he gave to the old wife  
Gold that lasted all her life,  
And then without delay anon  
He made a Bishop of her son  
The Master that did him instruct  
His own Chapland 〈◊〉 did him make.   

Roswall and Lil●●●● free,  
Had five ba●●●● sicker●ie,  
Three sons and two daughters dear  
Right fair they were withouten péer  
The eldest ●on was King of Bealm,  
The second fell to Naples Realm,  
The third son King of Bane was made,  
When that the King thereof was dead:  
The eldest daughter fell a chance,  
Married the Dauphin of France,  
The second on the Prince of Pail.  
We pray to him that vanquished hell,  
And for us died on a tree  
To grant us heaven, Amen say ye.   
FINIS.