The English and Scottish Popular Ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

Johny he has risen up i the morn,
Calls for water to wash his hands;
But little knew he that his bloody hounds
Were bound in iron bands. bands
Were bound in iron bands

2

Johny's mother has gotten word o that,
And care-bed she has taen:
‘O Johny, for my benison,
I beg you'l stay at hame;
For the wine so red, and the well baken bread,
My Johny shall want nane.

3

‘There are seven forsters at Pickeram Side,
At Pickeram where they dwell,
And for a drop of thy heart's bluid
They wad ride the fords of hell.’

4

Johny he's gotten word of that,
And he's turnd wondrous keen;
He's put off the red scarlett,
And he's put on the Lincolm green.

5

With a sheaf of arrows by his side,
And a bent bow in his hand,
He's mounted on a prancing steed,
And he has ridden fast oer the strand.

6

He's up i Braidhouplee, and down i Bradyslee,
And under a buss o broom,
And there he found a good dun deer,
Feeding in a buss of ling.

7

Johny shot, and the dun deer lap,
And she lap wondrous wide,
Until they came to the wan water,
And he stemd her of her pride.

8

He'as taen out the little pen-knife,
'Twas full three quarters long,
And he has taen out of that dun deer
The liver bot and the tongue.

9

They eat of the flesh, and they drank of the blood,
And the blood it was so sweet,
Which caused Johny and his bloody hounds
To fall in a deep sleep.

10

By then came an old palmer,
And an ill death may he die!
For he's away to Pickram Side,
As fast as he can drie.

11

‘What news, what news?’ says the Seven Forsters,
‘What news have ye brought to me?’
‘I have noe news,’ the palmer said,
‘But what I saw with my eye.

12

‘High up i Bradyslee, low down i Bradisslee,
And under a buss of scroggs,
O there I spied a well-wight man,
Sleeping among his dogs.

13

‘His coat it was of light Lincolm,
And his breeches of the same,
His shoes of the American leather,
And gold buckles tying them.’

14

Up bespake the Seven Forsters,
Up bespake they ane and a':
O that is Johny o Cockleys Well,
And near him we will draw.

15

O the first y stroke that they gae him,
They struck him off by the knee;
Then up bespake his sister's son:
‘O the next'll gar him die!’

16

‘O some they count ye well-wight men,
But I do count ye nane;
For you might well ha wakend me,
And askd gin I wad be taen.

17

‘The wildest wolf in aw this wood
Wad not ha done so by me;
She'd ha wet her foot ith wan water,
And sprinkled it oer my brae,
And if that wad not ha wakend me,
She wad ha gone and let me be.

18

‘O bows of yew, if ye be true,
In London, where ye were bought,
Fingers five, get up belive,
Manhuid shall fail me nought.’

19

He has killd the Seven Forsters,
He has killd them all but ane,
And that wan scarce to Pickeram Side,
To carry the bode-words hame.

20

‘Is there never a boy in a' this wood
That will tell what I can say;
That will go to Cockleys Well,
Tell my mither to fetch me away?’

21

There was a boy into that wood,
That carried the tidings away,
And many ae was the well-wight man
At the fetching o Johny away.

Johnny Cock

JOHNIE COCK—B

[_]

Pieces of Ancient Poetry from Unpublished Manuscripts and Scarce Books, Bristol, 1814, p. 53.

1

Fifteen foresters in the Braid alow,
And they are wondrous fell;
To get a drop of Johnny's heart-bluid,
They would sink a' their souls to hell.

2

Johnny Cock has gotten word of this,
And he is wondrous keen;
He['s] custan off the red scarlet,
And on the Linkum green.

3

And he is ridden oer muir and muss,
And over mountains high,
Till he came to yon wan water,
And there Johnny Cock did lie.

4

They have ridden oer muir and muss,
And over mountains high,
Till they met wi' an old palmer,
Was walking along the way.

5

‘What news, what news, old palmer?
What news have you to me?’
‘Yonder is one of the proudest wed sons
That ever my eyes did see.’

[OMITTED]

6

He's taen out a horn from his side,
And he blew both loud and shrill,
Till a' the fifteen foresters
Heard Johnny Cock blaw his horn.

7

They have sworn a bluidy oath,
And they swore all in one,
That there was not a man among them a'
Would blaw such a blast as yon.

8

And they have ridden oer muir and muss,
And over mountains high,
Till they came to yon wan water,
Where Johnny Cock did lie.

9

They have shotten little Johnny Cock,
A little above the ee:
[OMITTED]
‘For doing the like to me.

10

‘There's not a wolf in a' the wood
Woud'ha' done the like to me;
'She'd ha' dipped her foot in coll water,
And strinkled above my ee,
And if I would not have waked for that,
'She'd ha' gane and let me be.

11

‘But fingers five, come here, [come here,]
And faint heart fail me nought,
And silver strings, value me sma things,
Till I get all this vengeance rowght!’

12

He ha[s] shot a' the fifteen foresters,
Left never a one but one,
And he broke the ribs a that ane's side,
And let him take tiding home.

13

‘[OMITTED] a bird in a' the wood
Could sing as I could say,
It would go in to my mother's bower,
And bid her kiss me, and take me away.’

Johnny Cock

JOHNIE COCK—C

[_]

Pieces of Ancient Poetry from Unpublished Manuscripts and Scarce Books, Bristol, 1814, p. 51.

1

Johnny Cock, in a May morning,
Sought water to wash his hands,
And he is awa to louse his dogs,
That's tied wi iron bans.
That's tied wi iron bans

2

His coat it is of the light Lincum green,
And his breiks are of the same;
His shoes are of the American leather,
Silver buckles tying them.

3

'He' hunted up, and so did 'he' down,
Till 'he' came to yon bush of scrogs,
And then to yon wan water,
Where he slept among his dogs.

[OMITTED]

4

Johnny Cock out-shot a' the foresters,
And out-shot a the three;
Out shot a' the foresters,
Wounded Johnny aboun the bree.

5

‘Woe be to you, foresters,
And an ill death may you die!
For there would not a wolf in a' the wood
have done the like to me.

6

‘For’ 't would ha' put its foot in the coll water
And ha strinkled it on my bree,
And gin that would not have done,
Would have gane and lett me be.

7

‘I often took to my mother
The dandoo and the roe,
But now I'l take to my mother
Much sorrow and much woe.

8

‘I often took to my mother
The dandoo and the hare,
But now I'l take to my mother
Much sorrow and much care.’

Johnie of Cockerslee

JOHNIE COCK—D

[_]

Kinloch's annotated copy of his Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 38 bis: a West-Country version.

1

Up Johnie raise in a May morning,
Calld for water to wash his hands,
And he has calld for his gude gray hunds,
That lay bund in iron bands. bands
That lay bund in iron bands

2

‘Ye'll busk, ye'll busk my noble dogs,
Ye'll busk and mak them boun,
For I'm going to the Braidscaur hill,
To ding the dun deer doun.’

3

Whan Johnie's mither gat word o that,
On the very bed she lay,
Says, Johnie, for my malison,
I pray ye at hame to stay.

4

Your meat sall be of the very, very best,
Your drink sall be the same,
And ye will win your mither's benison,
Gin ye wad stay at hame.

5

But Johnie has cast aff the black velvet,
And put on the Lincoln twine,
And he is on to gude greenwud,
As fast as he could gang.

6

His mither's counsel he wad na tak,
He's aff, and left the toun,
He's aff unto the Braidscaur hill,
To ding the dun deer doun.

7

Johnie lookit east, and Johnie lookit west,
And he lookit aneath the sun,
And there he spied the dun deer sleeping,
Aneath a buss o whun.

8

Johnie shot, and the dun deer lap,
And he's scaithed him in the side,
And atween the water and the wud
He laid the dun deer's pride.

9

They ate sae meikle o the venison,
And drank sae meikle o the blude,
That Johnie and his twa gray hunds
Fell asleep in yonder wud.

10

By ther cam a silly auld man,
And a silly auld man was he,
And he's aff to the proud foresters,
As fast as he could dree.

11

‘What news, what news, my silly auld man?
What news? come tell to me:’
‘I heard na news, I speird na news
But what my een did see.

12

‘As I cam in by Braidisbanks,
And doun amang the whuns,
The bonniest youngster eer I saw
Lay sleepin amang his hunds.

13

‘His cheeks war like the roses red,
His neck was like the snaw;
His sark was o the holland fine,
And his jerkin lac'd fu braw.’

14

Up bespak the first forester,
The first forester of a':
O this is Johnie o Cockerslee;
Come draw, lads, we maun draw.

15

Up bespak the niest forester,
The niest forester of a':
An this be Johnie o Cockerslee,
To him we winna draw.

16

The first shot that they did shoot,
They woundit him on the bree;
Up bespak the uncle's son,
‘The niest will gar him die.’

17

The second shot that eer they shot,
It scaithd him near the heart;
‘I only wauken,’ Johnie cried,
‘Whan first I find the smart.

18

‘Stand stout, stand stout, my noble dogs,
Stand stout, and dinna flee;
Stand fast, stand fast, my gude gray hunds,
And we will gar them die.’

19

He has killed six o the proud foresters,
And wounded the seventh sair:
He laid his leg out owre his steed,
Says, I will kill na mair.

20

‘Oh wae befa thee, silly auld man,
An ill death may thee dee!
Upon thy head be a' this blude,
For mine, I ween, is free.’

Johnie o Cocklesmuir

JOHNIE COCK—E

[_]

Kinloch's MSS, VII, 29: from recitation in the North Country.

1

Johnie rose up in a May morning,
Calld for water to wash his hands,
And he has calld for his gud gray hunds,
That lay bund in iron bands. bands
That lay bund in iron bands

2

‘Ye'll busk, ye'll busk my noble dogs,
Ye'll busk and mak them boun,
For I'm gaing to the Broadspear hill,
To ding the dun deer doun.’

3

Whan Johnie's mither heard o this,
She til her son has gane:
‘Ye'll win your mither's benison,
Gin ye wad stay at hame.

4

‘Your meat sall be o the very, very best,
And your drink o the finest wine;
And ye will win your mither's benison,
Gin ye wad stay at hame.’

5

His mither's counsel he wad na tak,
Nor wad he stay at hame;
But he's on to the Broadspear hill,
To ding the dun deer doun.

6

Johnie lookit east, and Johnie lookit west,
And a little below the sun,
And there he spied the dun deer lying sleeping,
Aneath a buss o brume.

7

Johnie shot, and the dun deer lap,
And he has woundit him in the side,
And atween the water and the wud
He laid the dun deer's pride.

8

They ate sae meikle o the venison,
And drank sae meikle o the blude,
That Johnie and his twa gray hunds
Fell asleep in yonder wud.

9

By there cam a silly auld man,
A silly auld man was he,
And he's aff to the proud foresters,
To tell what he did see.

10

‘What news, what news, my silly auld man,
What news? come tell to me:’
‘Na news, na news,’ said the silly auld man,
‘But what mine een did see.

11

‘As I cam in by yon greenwud,
And doun amang the scrogs,
The bonniest youth that ere I saw
Lay sleeping atween twa dogs.

12

‘The sark that he had on his back
Was o the holland sma,
And the coat that he had on his back
Was laced wi gowd fu braw.’

13

Up bespak the first forester,
The first forester ava:
‘An this be Johnie o Cocklesmuir,
It's time we war awa.’

14

Up bespak the niest forester,
The niest forester ava:
‘An this be Johnie o Cocklesmuir,
To him we winna draw.’

15

The first shot that they did shoot,
They woundit him on the thie;
Up bespak the uncle's son,
The niest will gar him die.

16

‘Stand stout, stand stout, my noble dogs,
Stand stout, and dinna flee;
Stand fast, stand fast, my gude gray hunds,
And we will mak them dee.’

17

He has killed six o the proud foresters.
And he has woundit the seventh sair;
He laid his leg out oure his steed,
Says, I will kill na mair.

Johnie of Breadislee

JOHNIE COCK—F

[_]

Scott's Minstrelsy, I, 59, 1802; made up from several different copies. Nithsdale.

1

Johnie rose up in a May morning,
Called for water to wash his hands:
‘Gar loose to me the gude graie dogs,
That are bound wi iron bands.’

2

When Johnie's mother gat word o that,
Her hands for dule she wrang:
‘O Johnie, for my bennison,
To the grenewood dinna gang!

3

‘Eneugh ye hae o the gude wheat-bread,
And eneugh o the blude-red wine,
And therefore for nae vennison, Johnie,
I pray ye, stir frae hame.’

4

But Johnie's buskt up his gude bend bow,
His arrows, ane by ane,
And he has gane to Durrisdeer,
To hunt the dun deer down.

5

As he came down by Merriemass,
And in by the benty line,
There has he espied a deer lying,
Aneath a bush of ling.

6

Johnie he shot, and the dun deer lap,
And he wounded her on the side,
But atween the water and the brae,
His hounds they laid her pride.

7

And Johnie has bryttled the deer sae weel
That he's had out her liver and lungs,
And wi these he has feasted his bludey hounds
As if they had been erl's sons.

8

They eat sae much o the vennison,
And drank sae much o the blude,
That Johnie and a' his bludey hounds
Fell asleep as they had been dead.

9

And by there came a silly auld carle,
An ill death mote he die!
For he's awa to Hislinton,
Where the Seven Foresters did lie.

10

‘What news, what news, ye gray-headed carle?
What news bring ye to me?’
‘I bring nae news,’ said the gray-headed carle,
‘Save what these eyes did see.

11

‘As I came down by Merriemass,
And down amang the scroggs,
The bonniest childe that ever I saw
Lay sleeping amang his dogs.

12

‘The shirt that was upon his back
Was o the holland fine;

The doublet which was over that
Was o the Lincome twine.

13

‘The buttons that were on his sleeve
Were o the gowd sae gude;
The gude graie hounds he lay amang,
Their mouths were dyed wi blude.’

14

Then out and spak the first forester,
The heid man ower them a':
If this be Johnie o Breadislee,
Nae nearer will we draw.

15

But up and spak the sixth forester,
His sister's son was he:
If this be Johnie o Breadislee,
We soon shall gar him die.

16

The first flight of arrows the foresters shot,
They wounded him on the knee;
And out and spak the seventh forester,
The next will gar him die.

17

Johnie's set his back against an aik,
His fute against a stane,
And he has slain the Seven Foresters,
He has slain them a' but ane.

18

He has broke three ribs in that ane's side,
But and his collar bane;
He's laid him twa-fald ower his steed,
Bade him carry the tidings hame.

19

‘O is there na a bonnie bird
Can sing as I can say,
Could flee away to my mother's bower,
And tell to fetch Johnie away?’

20

The starling flew to his mother's windowstane,
It whistled and it sang,
And aye the ower-word o the tune
Was, Johnie tarries lang!

21

They made a rod o the hazel-bush,
Another o the slae-thorn tree,
And mony, mony were the men
At fetching our Johnie.

22

Then out and spake his auld mother,
And fast her teirs did fa;
Ye wad nae be warnd, my son Johnie,
Frae the hunting to bide awa.

23

‘Aft hae I brought to Breadislee
The less gear and the mair,
But I neer brought to Breadislee
What grieved my heart sae sair.

24

‘But wae betyde that silly auld carle,
An ill death shall he die;
For the highest tree on Merriemass
Shall be his morning's fee.’

25

Now Johnie's gude bend bow is broke,
And his gude graie dogs are slain,
And his bodie lies dead in Durrisdeer,
And his hunting it is done.

Johnie Brad

JOHNIE COCK—G

[_]

Harris MS., fol. 25: from Mrs Harris's recitation.

1

Johnnie Brad, on a May mornin,
Called for water to wash his hands,
An there he spied his twa blude-hounds,
Waur bound in iron bands. bands
Waur bound in iron bands

2

Johnnie's taen his gude bent bow,
Bot an his arrows kene,
An strippit himsel o the scarlet red,
An put on the licht Lincoln green.

3

Up it spak Johnnie's mither,
An' a wae, wae woman was she:
I beg you bide at hame, Johnnie,
I pray be ruled by me.

4

Baken bread ye sall nae lack,
An wine you sall lack nane;
Oh Johnnie, for my benison,
I beg you bide at hame!

5

He has made a solemn aith,
Atween the sun an the mune,
That he wald gae to the gude green wood,
The dun deer to ding doon.

6

He luiket east, he luiket wast,
An in below the sun,
An there he spied the dun deer,
Aneath a bush o brume.

7

The firsten shot that Johnnie shot,
He wounded her in the side;
The nexten shot that Johnnie shot,
I wat he laid her pride.

8

He's eaten o the venison,
An drunken o the blude,
Until he fell as sound asleep
As though he had been dead.

9

Bye there cam a silly auld man,
And a silly auld man was he,
An he's on to the Seven Foresters,
As fast as he can flee.

10

‘As I cam in by yonder haugh,
An in among the scroggs,
The bonniest boy that ere I saw
Lay sleepin atween his dogs.’

[OMITTED]

11

The firsten shot that Johnnie shot,
He shot them a' but ane,
An he flang him owre a milk-white steed,
Bade him bear tidings hame.

Johnnie o Cocklesmuir

JOHNIE COCK—H

[_]

Buchan's MSS, I, 82; Dixon, Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 77, Percy Society, vol. xvii.

1

Johnnie raise up in a May morning,
Calld for water to wash his hands,
And he's commant his bluidy dogs
To be loosd frae their iron bands. bands
To be loosd frae their iron bands

2

‘Win up, win up, my bluidy dogs,
Win up, and be unbound,
And we will on to Bride's Braidmuir,
And ding the dun deer down.’

3

When his mother got word o that,
Then she took bed and lay;
Says, Johnnie, my son, for my blessing,
Ye'll stay at hame this day.

4

There's baken bread and brown ale
Shall be at your command;
Ye'll win your mither's blythe blessing,
To the Bride's Braidmuir nae gang.

5

Mony are my friends, mither,
Though thousands were my foe;
Betide me life, betide me death,
To the Bride's Braidmuir I'll go.

6

The sark that was on Johnnie's back
Was o the cambric fine;
The belt that was around his middle
Wi pearlins it did shine.

7

The coat that was upon his back
Was o the linsey brown;
And he's awa to the Bride's Braidmuir,
To ding the dun deer down.

8

Johnnie lookd east, Johnnie lookd west,
And turnd him round and round,
And there he saw the king's dun deer,
Was cowing the bush o brune.

9

Johnnie shot, and the dun deer lap,
He wounded her in the side;
Between him and yon burnie-bank,
Johnnie he laid her pride.

10

He ate sae muckle o the venison,
He drank sae muckle bleed,
Till he lay down between his hounds,
And slept as he'd been dead.

11

But by there came a stane-auld man,
An ill death mat he dee!
For he is on to the Seven Foresters,
As fast as gang could he.

12

‘What news, what news, ye stane-auld man?
What news hae ye brought you wi?’
‘Nae news, nae news, ye seven foresters,
But what your eyes will see.

13

‘As I gaed i yon rough thick hedge,
Amang yon bramly scroggs,
The fairest youth that eer I saw
Lay sleeping between his dogs.

14

‘The sark that was upon his back
Was o the cambric fine;
The belt that was around his middle
Wi pearlins it did shine.’

15

Then out it speaks the first forester:
Whether this be true or no,
O if it's Johnnie o Cocklesmuir,
Nae forder need we go.

16

Out it spake the second forester,
A fierce fellow was he:
Betide me life, betide me death,
This youth we'll go and see.

17

As they gaed in yon rough thick hedge,
And down yon forest gay,
They came to that very same place
Where John o Cockis he lay.

18

The first an shot they shot at him,
They wounded him in the thigh;
Out spake the first forester's son:
By the next shot he maun die.

19

‘O stand ye true, my trusty bow,
And stout steel never fail!
Avenge me now on all my foes,
Who have my life i bail.’

20

Then Johnnie killd six foresters,
And wounded the seventh sair;
Then drew a stroke at the stane-auld man,
That words he neer spake mair.

21

His mother's parrot in window sat,
She whistled and she sang,
And aye the owerturn o the note,
‘Young Johnnie's biding lang.’

22

When this reached the king's own ears,
It grievd him wondrous sair;
Says, I'd rather they'd hurt my subjects all
Than Johnnie o Cocklesmuir.

23

‘But where are all my wall-wight men,
That I pay meat and fee,
Will gang the morn to Johnnie's castle,
See how the cause may be.’

24

Then he's calld Johnnie up to court,
Treated him handsomelie,
And now to hunt in the Bride's Braidmuir,
For life has license free.

Johnie of Braidisbank

JOHNIE COCK—I

[_]

Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 23.

1

Johnie rose up in a May morning,
Called for water to wash his hands, hands
And he is awa to Braidisbanks,
To ding the dun deer down. down
To ding the dun deer down

2

Johnie lookit east, and Johnie lookit west,
And it's lang before the sun,
And there he did spy the dun deer lie,
Beneath a bush of brume.

3

Johnie shot, and the dun deer lap,
And he's woundit her in the side;
Out then spake his sister's son,
‘And the neist will lay her pride.’

[OMITTED]

4

They've eaten sae meikle o the gude venison,
And they've drunken sae muckle o the blude,
That they've fallen into as sound a sleep
As gif that they were dead.

[OMITTED]

5

‘It's doun, and it's doun, and it's doun, doun,
And it's doun amang the scrogs,
And there ye'll espy twa bonnie boys lie,
Asleep amang their dogs.’

[OMITTED]

6

They waukened Johnie out o his sleep,
And he's drawn to him his coat:
‘My fingers five, save me alive,
And a stout heart fail me not!’

[OMITTED]

JOHNIE COCK—J

[_]

Chambers's Scottish Ballads, p. 181, stanzas 13, 16, 17, 21, 22, 23, 26: from the recitation of a lady resident at Peebles.

1

His coat was o the scarlet red,
His vest was o the same;
His stockings were o the worset lace,
And buckles tied to the same.

2

Out then spoke one, out then spoke two,
Out then spoke two or three;
Out spoke the master forester,
‘It's Johnie o Braidislee.

3

‘If this be true, thou silly auld man,
Which you tell unto me,
Five hundred pounds of yearly rent
It shall not pay your fee.’

[OMITTED]

4

‘O wae be to you seven foresters!
I wonder ye dinna think shame,
You being seven sturdy men,
And I but a man my lane.

5

‘Now fail me not, my ten fingers,
That are both long and small!
Now fail me not, my noble heart!
For in thee I trust for all.

6

‘Now fail me not, my good bend bow,
That was in London coft!
Now fail me not, my golden string,
Which my true lover wrocht!’

[OMITTED]

7

He has tossed him up, he has tossed him doun,
He has broken his collar-bone;
He has tied him to his bridle reins,
Bade him carry the tidings home.

JOHNIE COCK—K

[_]

Finlay's Scottish Ballads, I, xxxi.

‘There's no a bird in a' this foreste
Will do as meikle for me
As dip its wing in the wan water
An straik it on my ee-bree.’

JOHNIE COCK—L

[_]

Harris MS., fol. 25 b.

But aye at ilka ae mile's end
She fand a cat o clay,
An written upon the back o it
‘Tak your son Johnnie Brod away.’

JOHNIE COCK—M

[_]

Froude's Life of Carlyle, 1795-1875, II, 335, New York, 1882, completed by a communication of Mr Macmath: as sung by Carlyle's mother.

‘O busk ye, O busk ye, my three bluidy hounds,
O busk ye, and go with me,
For there's seven foresters in yon forest,
And them I want to see.’ see
And them I want to see

115
ROBYN AND GANDELEYN

ROBYN AND GANDELEYN

[_]

Sloane MS., 2593, fol. 14 b, British Museum.

1

I herde a carpyng of a clerk,
Al at ȝone wodes ende,
Of gode Robyn and Gandeleyn;
Was þer non oþer þynge.
Robynn lyth in grene wode bowndyn

2

Stronge theuys wern þo chylderin non,
But bowmen gode and hende;
He wentyn to wode to getyn hem fleych,
If God wold it hem sende.

3

Al day wentyn þo chylderin too,
And fleych fowndyn he non,
Til it were a-geyn euyn;
Þe chylderin wold gon hom.

4

Half an honderid of fat falyf der
He comyn a-ȝon,
And alle he wern fayr and fat i-now,
But markyd was þer non:
‘Be dere God,’ seyde gode Robyn,
‘Here of we xul haue on.’

5

Robyn bent his joly bowe,
Þer in he set a flo;
Þe fattest der of alle
Þe herte he clef a to.

6

He hadde not þe der i-flawe,
Ne half out of þe hyde,
There cam a schrewde arwe out of þe west,
Þat felde Robertes pryde.

7

Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west,
Be euery syde:
‘Hoo hat myn mayster slayin?
Ho hat don þis dede?
Xal I neuer out of grene wode go
Til I se [his] sydis blede.’

8

Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and lokyd west,
And sowt vnder þe sunne;
He saw a lytil boy
He clepyn Wrennok of Donne.

9

A good bowe in his hond,
A brod arwe þer ine,
And fowre and twenti goode arwys,
Trusyd in a þrumme:
‘Be war þe, war þe, Gandeleyn,
Her-of þu xalt han summe.

10

‘Be war þe, war þe, Gandeleyn,
Her of þu gyst plente:’
‘Euer on for an oþer,’ seyde Gandeleyn;
‘Mysaunter haue he xal fle.

11

‘Qwer-at xal our marke be?’
Seyde Gandeleyn:
‘Eueryche at oþeris herte,’
Seyde Wrennok ageyn.

12

‘Ho xal ȝeue þe ferste schote?’
Seyde Gandeleyn:
‘And I xul ȝeue þe on be-forn,’
Seyde Wrennok ageyn.

13

Wrennok schette a ful good schote,
And he schet not to hye;
Þrow þe sanchoþis of his bryk;
It towchyd ney þer thye.

14

‘Now hast þu ȝouyn me on be-forn,’
Al þus to Wrennok seyde he,
‘And þrow þe myȝt of our lady
A bettere I xal ȝeue þe.’

15

Gandeleyn bent his goode bowe,
And set þer in a flo;

He schet þrow his grene certyl,
His herte he clef on too.

16

‘Now xalt þu neuer ȝelpe, Wrennok,
At ale ne at wyn,
Þat þu hast slawe goode Robyn,
And his knaue Gandeleyn.

17

‘Now xalt þu neuer ȝelpe, Wrennok,
At wyn ne at ale,
Þat þu hast slawe goode Robyn,
And Gandeleyn his knaue.’

Robyn lyȝth in grene wode bowndyn

116
ADAM BELL, CLIM OF THE CLOUGH, AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLY

ADAM BELL, CLIM OF THE CLOUGH, AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLY

[_]

a. Two fragments, stanzas 113-128, 161-170, of an edition by John Byddell, London, 1536: Library of the University of Cambridge.

b. A fragment, stanzas 53-111, by a printer not identified: formerly in the possession of J. Payne Collier.

c. ‘Adambel, Clym of the cloughe, and Wyllyam of cloudesle,’ William Copeland, London [1548-68]: British Museum, C. 21, c. 64.

d. ‘Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, and William of Cloudesle,’ James Roberts, London, 1605: Bodleian Library, C. 39, Art. Selden.

e. Another edition with the same title-page: Bodleian Library, Malone, 299.

f. ‘Adam Bell, Clime of the Cloug[he], and William off Cloudeslee,’ Percy MS., p. 390: British Museum. Hales and Furnivall, III, 76.

1

Mery it was in grene forest,
Amonge the leues grene,
Where that men walke both east and west,
Wyth bowes and arrowes kene,

2

To ryse the dere out of theyr denne;
Suche sightes as hath ofte bene sene,
As by th[r]e yemen of the north countrey,
By them it is as I meane.

3

The one of them hight Adam Bel,
The other Clym of the Clough,
The thyrd was William of Cloudesly,
An archer good ynough.

4

They were outlawed for venyson,
These thre yemen euerechone;
They swore them brethen vpon a day,
To Englysshe-wood for to gone.

5

Now lith and lysten, gentylmen,
And that of myrthes loueth to here:
Two of them were single men,
The third had a wedded fere.

6

Wyllyam was the wedded man,
Muche more then was hys care:
He sayde to hys brethen vpon a day,
To Carelel he would fare,

7

For to speke with fayre Alse hys wife,
And with hys chyldren thre:
‘By my trouth,’ sayde Adam Bel,
‘Not by the counsell of me.

8

‘For if ye go to Caerlel, brother,
And from thys wylde wode wende,
If the justice mai you take,
Your lyfe were at an ende.’

9

‘If that I come not to morowe, brother,
By pryme to you agayne,
Truste not els but that I am take,
Or else that I am slayne.’

10

He toke hys leaue of hys brethen two,
And to Carlel he is gone;
There he knocked at hys owne wyndowe,
Shortlye and anone.

11

‘Wher be you, fayre Alyce, my wyfe,
And my chyldren three?
Lyghtly let in thyne husbande,
Wyllyam of Cloudesle.’

12

‘Alas!’ then sayde fayre Alyce,
And syghed wonderous sore,
‘Thys place hath ben besette for you
Thys halfe yere and more.’

13

‘Now am I here,’ sayde Cloudesle,
‘I woulde that I in were;
Now feche vs meate and drynke ynoughe,
And let vs make good chere.’

14

She feched him meat and drynke plenty,
Lyke a true wedded wyfe,
And pleased hym with that she had,
Whome she loued as her lyfe.

15

There lay an old wyfe in that place,
A lytle besyde the fyre,
Whych Wyllyam had found, of cherytye,
More then seuen yere.

16

Up she rose; and walked full styll,
Euel mote she spede therefoore!
For she had not set no fote on ground
In seuen yere before.

17

She went vnto the justice hall,
As fast as she could hye:
‘Thys nyght is come vn to thys town
Wyllyam of Cloudesle.’

18

Thereof the iustice was full fayne,
And so was the shirife also:
‘Thou shalt not trauaile hether, dame, for nought;
Thy meed thou shalt haue or thou go.’

19

They gaue to her a ryght good goune,
Of scarlat it was, as I heard say[n]e;
She toke the gyft, and home she wente,
And couched her doune agayne.

20

They rysed the towne of mery Carlel,
In all the hast that they can,
And came thronging to Wyllyames house,
As fast [as] they might gone.

21

Theyr they besette that good yeman,
Round about on euery syde;
Wyllyam hearde great noyse of folkes,
That heytherward they hyed.

22

Alyce opened a shot-wyndow,
And loked all about;
She was ware of the justice and the shrife bothe,
Wyth a full great route.

23

‘Alas! treason,’ cryed Alyce,
‘Euer wo may thou be!
Go into my chambre, my husband,’ she sayd,
‘Swete Wyllyam of Cloudesle.’

24

He toke hys sweard and hys bucler,
Hys bow and hy[s] chyldren thre,
And wente into hys strongest chamber,
Where he thought surest to be.

25

Fayre Alice folowed him as a louer true,
With a pollaxe in her hande:
‘He shalbe deade that here cometh in
Thys dore, whyle I may stand.’

26

Cloudesle bent a wel good bowe,
That was of trusty tre,
He smot the justise on the brest,
That hys arrowe brest in thre.

27

‘God's curse on his hartt,’ saide William,
‘Thys day thy cote dyd on;
If it had ben no better then myne,
It had gone nere thy bone.’

28

‘Yelde the, Cloudesle,’ sayd the justise,
‘And thy bowe and thy arrowes the fro:’
‘Gods curse on hys hart,’ sayde fair Al[i]ce,
‘That my husband councelleth so.’

29

‘Set fyre on the house,’ saide the sherife,
‘Syth it wyll no better be,
And brenne we therin William,’ he saide,
‘Hys wyfe and chyldren thre.’

30

They fyred the house in many a place,
The fyre flew vpon hye;
‘Alas!’ than cryed fayr Alice,
‘I se we shall here dy.’

31

William openyd hys backe wyndow,
That was in hys chambre on hye,
And wyth shetes let hys wyfe downe,
And hys chyldren thre.

32

‘Haue here my treasure,’ sayde William,
‘My wyfe and my chyldren thre;
For Christes loue do them no harme,
But wreke you all on me.’

33

Wyllyam shot so wonderous well,
Tyll hys arrowes were all go,
And the fyre so fast vpon hym fell,
That hys bo[w]stryng brent in two.

34

The spercles brent and fell hym on,
Good Wyllyam of Cloudesle;
But than was he a wofull man, and sayde,
Thys is a cowardes death to me.

35

‘Leuer I had,’ sayde Wyllyam,
‘With my sworde in the route to renne,
Then here among myne ennemyes wode
Thus cruelly to bren.’

36

He toke hys sweard and hys buckler,
And among them all he ran;
Where the people were most in prece,
He smot downe many a man.

37

There myght no man stand hys stroke,
So fersly on them he ran;
Then they threw wyndowes and dores on him,
And so toke that good yeman.

38

There they hym bounde both hand and fote,
And in depe dongeon hym cast;
‘Now, Cloudesle,’ sayde the hye justice,
‘Thou shalt be hanged in hast.’

39

‘One vow shal I make,’ sayde the sherife,
‘A payre of new galowes shall I for the make,
And al the gates of Caerlel shalbe shutte,
There shall no man come in therat.

40

‘Then shall not helpe Clim of the Cloughe,
Nor yet Adam Bell,
Though they came with a thousand mo,
Nor all the deuels in hell.’

41

Early in the mornyng the justice vprose,
To the gates fast gan he gon,
And commaunded to be shut full cloce
Lightile euerychone.

42

Then went he to the market-place,
As fast as he coulde hye;
A payre of new gallous there dyd he vp set,
Besyde the pyllory.

43

A lytle boy stod them amonge,
And asked what meaned that gallow-tre;
They sayde, To hange a good yeaman,
Called Wyllyam of Cloudesle.

44

That lytle boye was the towne swyne-heard,
And kept fayre Alyce swyne;
Full oft he had sene Cloudesle in the wodde,
And geuen hym there to dyne.

45

He went out of a creues in the wall,
And lightly to the woode dyd gone;
There met he with these wyght yonge men,
Shortly and anone.

46

‘Alas!’ then sayde that lytle boye,
‘Ye tary here all to longe;
Cloudesle is taken and dampned to death,
All readye for to honge.’

47

‘Alas!’ then sayde good Adam Bell,
‘That euer we see thys daye!
He myght her with vs haue dwelled,
So ofte as we dyd him praye.

48

‘He myght haue taryed in grene foreste,
Under the shadowes sheene,
And haue kepte both hym and vs in reaste,
Out of trouble and teene.’

49

Adam bent a ryght good bow,
A great hart sone had he slayne;
‘Take that, chylde,’ he sayde, ‘to thy dynner,
And bryng me myne arrowe agayne.’

50

‘Now go we hence,’ sayed these wight yong men,
‘Tary we no lenger here;
We shall hym borowe, by Gods grace,
Though we bye it full dere.’

51

To Caerlel went these good yemen,
In a mery mornyng of Maye:
Her is a fyt of Cloudesli,
And another is for to saye.

52

And when they came to mery Caerlell,
In a fayre mornyng-tyde,
They founde the gates shut them vntyll,
Round about on euery syde.

53

‘Alas!’ than sayd good Adam Bell,
‘That euer we were made men!
These gates be shyt so wonderly well,
That we may not come here in.’

54

Than spake Clymme of the Cloughe:
With a wyle we wyll vs in brynge;
Let vs say we be messengers,
Streyght comen from oure kynge.

55

Adam sayd, I haue a lettre wryten wele,
Now let vs wysely werke;
We wyll say we haue the kynges seale,
I holde the porter no clerke.

56

Than Adam Bell bete on the gate,
With strökes greate and stronge;
The porter herde suche a noyse therate,
And to the gate faste he thronge.

57

‘Who is there nowe,’ sayd the porter,
‘That maketh all this knockynge?
‘We be two messengers,’ sayd Clymme of the Clo[ughe],
‘Be comen streyght frome oure kynge.’

58

‘We haue a lettre,’ sayd Adam Bell,
‘To the justyce we must it brynge;
Let vs in, oure message to do,
That we were agayne to our kynge.’

59

‘Here cometh no man in,’ sayd the porter,
‘By hym that dyed on a tre,
Tyll a false thefe be hanged,
Called Wyllyam of Clowdysle.’

60

Than spake that good [yeman Clym of the Cloughe,
And swore by Mary fre,
If that we stande long wythout,
Lyke a thefe hanged shalt thou be.]

61

[Lo here] we haue got the kynges seale;
[What! l]ordane, arte thou wode?
[The p]orter had wende it had been so,
[And l]yghtly dyd of his hode.

62

‘[Welco]me be my lordes seale,’ sayd he,
‘[For] that shall ye come in:’
[He] opened the gate ryght shortly,
[An] euyll openynge for hym!

63

‘[N]owe we are in,’ sayd Adam Bell,
‘[T]herof we are full fayne;
[But] Cryst knoweth that herowed hell,
[H]ow we shall come oute agayne.’

64

‘[Had] we the keys,’ sayd Clym of the Clowgh,
‘Ryght well than sholde we spede;
[Than] myght we come out well ynough,
[Whan] we se tyme and nede.’

65

[They] called the porter to a councell,
[And] wronge hys necke in two,
[And] kest hym in a depe dongeon,
[And] toke the keys hym fro.

66

‘[N]ow am I porter,’ sayd Adam Bell;
‘[Se], broder, the keys haue we here;
[The] worste porter to mery Carlell,
[That ye] had this hondreth yere.

67

‘[Now] wyll we oure bowës bende,
[Into the t]owne wyll we go,
[For to delyuer our dere] broder,
[Where he lyeth in care and wo.’

68

Then they bent theyr good yew bowes,
And loked theyr stringes were round;]
The market-place of mery Carlyll,
They beset in that stounde.

69

And as they loked them besyde,
A payre of newe galowes there they se,
And the iustyce, with a quest of swerers,
That had iuged Clowdysle there hanged to be.

70

And Clowdysle hymselfe lay redy in a carte,
Fast bounde bothe fote and hande,
And a strong rope aboute his necke,
All redy for to be hangde.

71

The iustyce called to hym a ladde;
Clowdysles clothes sholde he haue,
To take the mesure of that good yoman,
And therafter to make his graue.

72

‘I haue sene as greate a merueyll,’ sayd Clowd[esle],
‘As bytwene this and pryme,
He that maketh thys graue for me,
Hymselfe may lye therin.’

73

‘Thou spekest proudely,’ sayd the iustyce;
‘I shall hange the with my hande:’
Full well that herde his bretheren two,
There styll as they dyd stande.

74

Than Clowdysle cast hys eyen asyde,
And sawe hys bretheren stande,
At a corner of the market-place,
With theyr good bowes bent in theyr hand,
Redy the iustyce for to chase.

75

‘I se good comforte,’ sayd Clowdysle,
‘Yet hope I well to fare;
If I myght haue my handes at wyll,
[Ryght l]ytell wolde I care.’

76

[Than b]espake good Adam Bell,
[To Clym]me of the Clowgh so fre;
[Broder], se ye marke the iustyce well;
[Lo yon]der ye may him se.

77

[And at] the sheryf shote I wyll,
[Stron]gly with an arowe kene;
[A better] shotte in mery Carlyll,
[Thys se]uen yere was not sene.

78

[They lo]used theyr arowes bothe at ones,
[Of no] man had they drede;
[The one] hyt the iustyce, the other the sheryf,
[That b]othe theyr sydes gan blede.

79

[All men] voyded, that them stode nye,
[Whan] the iustyce fell to the grounde,
[And the] sheryf fell nyghe hym by;
[Eyther] had his dethës wounde.

80

[All the c]ytezeyns fast gan fle,
[They du]rste no lenger abyde;
[There ly]ghtly they loused Clowdysle,
[Where he] with ropes lay tyde.

81

[Wyllyam] sterte to an offycer of the towne,
[Hys axe] out his hande he wronge;
[On eche] syde he smote them downe,
[Hym tho]ught he had taryed to longe.

82

[Wyllyam] sayd to his bretheren two,
[Thys daye] let vs togyder lyue and deye;
[If euer you] haue nede as I haue nowe,
[The same] shall ye fynde by me.

83

[They] shyt so well in that tyde,
For theyr strynges were of sylke full sure,
That they kepte the stretes on euery syde;
That batayll dyd longe endure.

84

They fought togyder as bretheren true,
Lyke hardy men and bolde;
Many a man to the grounde they threwe,
And made many an hertë colde.

85

But whan theyr arowes were all gone,
Men presyd on them full fast;
They drewe theyr swerdës than anone,
And theyr bowës from them caste.

86

They wente lyghtly on theyr waye,
With swerdes and buckelers rounde;
By that it was the myddes of the daye,
They had made many a wounde.

87

There was many a noute-horne in Carlyll blowen,
And the belles backwarde dyd they rynge;
Many a woman sayd alas,
And many theyr handes dyd wrynge.

88

The mayre of Carlyll forth come was,
And with hym a full grete route;
These thre yomen dredde hym full sore,
For theyr lyuës stode in doubte.

89

The mayre came armed, a full greate pace,
With a polaxe in his hande;
Many a stronge man with hym was,
There in that stoure to stande.

90

The mayre smote at Clowdysle with his byll,
His buckeler he brast in two;
Full many a yoman with grete yll,
‘[Al]as, treason!’ they cryed for wo.
‘[Ke]pe we the gates fast,’ they bad,
‘[T]hat these traytours theroute not go.’

91

But all for nought was that they wrought,
For so fast they downe were layde
Tyll they all thre, that so manfully fought,
Were goten without at a brayde.

92

‘Haue here your keys,’ sayd Adam Bell,
‘Myne offyce I here forsake;
Yf ye do by my councell,
A newë porter ye make.’

93

He threwe the keys there at theyr hedes,
And bad them evyll to thryue,
And all that letteth ony good yoman
To come and comforte his wyue.

94

Thus be these good yomen gone to the wode,
As lyght as lefe on lynde;
They laughe and be mery in theyr mode,
Theyr enemyes were farre behynde.

95

Whan they came to Inglyswode,
Under theyr trysty-tre,
There they founde bowës full gode,
And arowës greate plentë.

96

‘So helpe me God,’ sayd Adam Bell,
And Clymme of the Clowgh so fre,

‘I wolde we were nowe in mery Carlell,
[Be]fore that fayre meynë.’

97

They set them downe and made good chere,
And eate an[d dr]anke full well:
Here is a fytte [of] these wyght yongemen,
And another I shall you tell.

98

As they sat in Inglyswode,
Under theyr trysty-tre,
Them thought they herde a woman [wepe],
But her they myght not se.

99

Sore syghed there fayre Alyce, and sayd,
Alas that euer I se this daye!
For now is my dere husbonde slayne,
Alas and welawaye!

100

Myght I haue spoken wyth hys dere breth-[eren],
With eyther of them twayne,
[To shew to them what him befell]
My herte were out of payne.

101

Clowdysle walked a lytell besyde,
And loked vnder the grene wodde lynde;
He was ware of his wyfe and his chyldre[n thre],
Full wo in herte and mynde.

102

‘Welcome, wyfe,’ than sayd Wyllyam,
‘Unto this trysty-tre;
I had wende yesterdaye, by swete Sai[nt John],
Thou sholde me neuer haue se.’

103

‘Now wele is me,’ she sayd, ‘that [ye be here],
My herte is out of wo:’
‘Dame,’ he sayd, ‘be mery and glad,
And thanke my bretheren two.’

104

‘Here of to speke,’ sayd Ad[am] Bell,
‘I-wys it [is no bote];
The me[at that we must supp withall,
It runneth yet fast on fote.’

105

Then went they down into a launde,
These noble archares all thre,
Eche of the]m slewe a harte of grece,
[The best t]hey coude there se.

106

‘[Haue here the] best, Alyce my wyfe,’
[Sayde Wyllya]m of Clowdysle,
‘[By cause ye so] boldely stode me by,
[Whan I w]as slayne full nye.’

107

[Than they] wente to theyr souper,
[Wyth suc]he mete as they had,
[And than]ked God of theyr fortune;
[They we]re bothe mery and glad.

108

[And whan] they had souped well,
[Certayne] withouten leace,
[Clowdysle] sayde, We wyll to oure kynge,
[To get v]s a chartre of peace.

109

[Alyce shal] be at soiournynge,
[In a nunry] here besyde;
[My tow sonn]es shall with her go,
[And ther the]y shall abyde.

110

[Myne eldest so]ne shall go with me,
[For hym haue I] no care,
[And he shall breng] you worde agayne
[How that we do fare.

111

Thus be these wig]ht men to London gone,
[As fast as they ma]ye hye,
[Tyll they came to the kynges] palays,
There they woulde nedës be.

112

And whan they came to the kyngës courte,
Unto the pallace gate,
Of no man wold they aske leue,
But boldly went in therat.

113

They preced prestly into the hall,
Of no man had they dreade;
The porter came after and dyd them call,
And with them began to [chyde.]

114

The vssher sayd, Yemen, what wolde ye haue?
I praye you tell me;
Ye myght thus make offycers shent:
Good syrs, of whens be ye?

115

‘Syr, we be outlawes of the forest,
Certayne withouten leace,
And hyther we be come to our kynge,
To get vs a charter of peace.’

116

And whan they came before our kynge,
As it was the lawe of the lande,
They kneled downe without lettynge,
And eche helde vp his hande.

117

They sayd, Lorde, we beseche you here,
That ye wyll graunte vs grace,
For we haue slayne your fatte falowe dere,
In many a sondry place.

118

‘What is your names?’ than sayd our kynge,
‘Anone that you tell me:’
They sayd, Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough,
And Wylliam of Clowdesle.

119

‘Be ye those theues,’ than sayd our kynge,
‘That men haue tolde of to me?
Here to God I make a vowe,
Ye shall be hanged all thre.

120

‘Ye shall be dead without mercy,
As I am kynge of this lande:’
He commanded his officers euerichone
Fast on them to lay hand.

121

There they toke these good yemen,
And arested them all thre:
‘So may I thryue,’ sayd Adam Bell,
‘Thys game lyketh not me.

122

‘But, good lorde, we beseche you nowe,
That ye wyll graunte vs grace,
In so moche as we be to you commen;
Or elles that we may fro you passe,

123

‘With suche weapons as we haue here,
Tyll we be out of your place;
And yf we lyue this hondred yere,
We wyll aske you no grace.’

124

‘Ye speke proudly,’ sayd the kynge,
‘Ye shall be hanged all thre:’
‘That were great pity,’ sayd the quene,
‘If any grace myght be.

125

‘My lorde, whan I came fyrst in to this lande,
To be your wedded wyfe,
The fyrst bone that I wolde aske,
Ye wolde graunte me belyfe.

126

‘And I asked you neuer none tyll nowe,
Therfore, good lorde, graunte it me:’
‘Nowe aske it, madame,’ sayd the kynge,
‘And graunted shall it be.’

127

‘Than, good lorde, I you beseche,
The yemen graunte you me:’
‘Madame, ye myght haue asked a bone
That sholde haue ben worthe them thre.

128

‘Ye myght haue asked towres and towne[s],
Parkes and forestes plentie:’
‘None so pleasaunt to mi pay,’ she said,
‘Nor none so lefe to me.’

129

‘Madame, sith it is your desyre,
Your askyng graunted shalbe;
But I had leuer haue geuen you
Good market-townës thre.’

130

The quene was a glad woman,
And sayd, Lord, gramarcy;
I dare vndertake for them
That true men shall they be.

131

But, good lord, speke som mery word,
That comfort they may se:
‘I graunt you grace,’ then said our king,
‘Wasshe, felos, and to meate go ye.’

132

They had not setten but a whyle,
Certayne without lesynge,
There came messengers out of the north,
With letters to our kyng.

133

And whan the came before the kynge,
The kneled downe vpon theyr kne,
And sayd, Lord, your offycers grete you wel,
Of Caerlel in the north cuntre.

134

‘How fare[th] my justice,’ sayd the kyng,
‘And my sherife also?’
‘Syr, they be slayne, without leasynge,
And many an officer mo.’

135

‘Who hath them slayne?’ sayd the kyng,
‘Anone thou tell me:’
‘Adam Bel, and Clime of the Clough,
And Wyllyam of Cloudesle.’

136

‘Alas for rewth!’ then sayd our kynge,
‘My hart is wonderous sore;
I had leuer [th]an a thousand pounde
I had knowne of thys before.

137

‘For I haue y-graunted them grace,
And that forthynketh me;
But had I knowne all thys before,
They had ben hanged all thre.’

138

The kyng opened the letter anone,
Hym selfe he red it tho,
And founde how these thre outlawes had slaine
Thre hundred men and mo.

139

Fyrst the justice and the sheryfe,
And the mayre of Caerlel towne;
Of all the constables and catchipolles
Alyue were left not one.

140

The baylyes and the bedyls both,
And the sergeauntes of the law,
And forty fosters of the fe
These outlawes had y-slaw;

141

And broken his parks, and slaine his dere;
Ouer all they chose the best;
So perelous outlawes as they were
Walked not by easte nor west.

142

When the kynge this letter had red,
In hys harte he syghed sore;
‘Take vp the table,’ anone he bad,
‘For I may eate no more.’

143

The kyng called hys best archars,
To the buttes with hym to go;
‘I wyll se these felowes shote,’ he sayd,
‘That in the north haue wrought this wo.’

144

The kynges bowmen buske them blyue,
And the quenes archers also,
So dyd these thre wyght yemen,
Wyth them they thought to go.

145

There twyse or thryse they shote about,
For to assay theyr hande;
There was no shote these thre yemen shot
That any prycke might them stand.

146

Then spake Wyllyam of Cloudesle;
By God that for me dyed,
I hold hym neuer no good archar
That shuteth at buttes so wyde.

147

‘Wherat?’ then sayd our kyng,
‘I pray thee tell me:’
‘At suche a but, syr,’ he sayd,
‘As men vse in my countree.’

148

Wyllyam wente into a fyeld,
And his to brothren with him;
There they set vp to hasell roddes,
Twenty score paces betwene.

149

‘I hold him an archar,’ said Cloudesle,
‘That yonder wande cleueth in two:’
‘Here is none suche,’ sayd the kyng,
‘Nor none that can so do.’

150

‘I shall assaye, syr,’ sayd Cloudesle,
‘Or that I farther go:’
Cloudesle, with a bearyng arow,
Claue the wand in to.

151

‘Thou art the best archer,’ then said the king,
‘Forsothe that euer I se:’
‘And yet for your loue,’ sayd Wylliam,
‘I wyll do more maystry.

152

‘I haue a sonne is seuen yere olde;
He is to me full deare;
I wyll hym tye to a stake,
All shall se that be here;

153

‘And lay an apple vpon hys head,
And go syxe score paces hym fro,
And I my selfe, with a brode arow,
Shall cleue the apple in two.’

154

‘Now hast the,’ then sayd the kyng;
‘By him that dyed on a tre,
But yf thou do not as thou hest sayde,
Hanged shalt thou be.

155

‘And thou touche his head or gowne,
In syght that men may se,
By all the sayntes that be in heaven,
I shall hange you all thre.’

156

‘That I haue promised,’ said William,
‘I wyl it neuer forsake;’
And there euen before the kynge,
In the earth he droue a stake;

157

And bound therto his eldest sonne,
And bad hym stande styll therat,
And turned the childes face fro him,
Because he shuld not sterte.

158

An apple vpon his head he set,
And then his bowe he bent;
Syxe score paces they were outmet,
And thether Cloudesle went.

159

There he drew out a fayr brode arrowe;
Hys bowe was great and longe;
He set that arrowe in his bowe,
That was both styffe and stronge.

160

He prayed the people that was there
That they would styll stande;
‘For he that shooteth for such a wager,
Behoueth a stedfast hand.’

161

Muche people prayed for Cloudesle,
That hys lyfe saued myght be,
And whan he made hym redy to shote,
There was many a wepynge eye.

162

Thus Clowdesle clefte the apple in two,
That many a man it se;
‘Ouer goddes forbode,’ sayd the kynge,
‘That thou sholdest shote at me!

163

‘I gyue the .xviii. pens a daye,
And my bowe shalte thou bere,
And ouer all the north countree
I make the chefe rydere.’

164

‘And I gyue the .xii. pens a day,’ sayd the que[ne],
‘By God and by my faye;
Come fetche thy payment whan thou wylt,
No man shall say the naye.

165

‘Wyllyam, I make the gentylman
Of clothynge and of fee,
And thy two brethren yemen of my chambr[e],
For they are so semely to se.

166

‘Your sone, for he is tendre of age,
Of my wyne-seller shall he be,
And whan he commeth to mannës state,
Better auaunced shall he be.

167

‘And, Wylliam, brynge me your wyfe,’ sayd th[e quene];
Me longeth sore here to se;
She shall be my chefe gentylwoman,
And gouerne my nursery.’

168

The yemen thanked them full courteysly,
And sayd, To Rome streyght wyll we wende,
[Of all the synnes that we haue done
To be assoyled of his hand.

169

So forth]e be gone these good yemen,
[As fast a]s they myght hye,
[And aft]er came and dwelled with the kynge,
[And dye]d good men all thre.

170

[Thus e]ndeth the lyues of these good yemen,
[God sen]de them eternall blysse,
[And all] that with hande-bowe shoteth,
[That of] heuen they may neuer mysse!

117
A GEST OF ROBYN HODE

A GEST OF ROBYN HODE

[_]

a. ‘A Gest of Robyn Hode,’ without printer's name, date, or place; the eleventh and last piece in a volume in the Advocates' Library, Edinburgh. Reprinted by David Laing, 1827, with nine pieces from the press of Walter Chepman and Androw Myllar, Edinburgh, 1508, and one other, by a printer unknown, under the title of The Knightly Tale of Golagrus and Gawane, and other Ancient Poems.

b. ‘A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode,’ etc., London, Wynken de Worde, n. d.: Library of the University of Cambridge.

c. Douce Fragment, No 16: Bodleian Library.

d. Douce Fragment, No 17: Bodleian Library.

e. Douce Fragment, No 16: Bodleian Library.

f. ‘A Mery Geste of Robyn Hoode,’ etc., London, Wyllyam Copland, n. d.: British Museum, C. 21. c.

g. ‘A Merry Iest of Robin Hood,’ etc., London, printed for Edward White, n. d.: Bodleian Library, Z. 3. Art. Seld., and Mr Henry Huth's library.

THE FIRST FYTTE

1

Lythe and listin, gentilmen,
That be of frebore blode;
I shall you tel of a gode yeman,
His name was Robyn Hode.

2

Robyn was a prude outlaw,
[Whyles he walked on grounde;
So curteyse an outlawe] as he was one
Was never non founde.

3

Robyn stode in Bernesdale,
And lenyd hym to a tre;
And bi hym stode Litell Johnn,
A gode yeman was he.

4

And alsoo dyd gode Scarlok,
And Much, the miller's son;
There was none ynch of his bodi
But it was worth a grome.

5

Than bespake Lytell Johnn
All vntoo Robyn Hode:
Maister, and ye wolde dyne betyme
It wolde doo you moche gode.

6

Than bespake hym gode Robyn:
To dyne haue I noo lust,
Till that I haue som bolde baron,
Or som vnkouth gest.

7

[OMITTED]
That may pay for the best,
Or som knyght or [som] squyer,
That dwelleth here bi west.

8

A gode maner than had Robyn;
In londe where that he were,
Euery day or he wold dyne
Thre messis wolde he here.

9

The one in the worship of the Fader,
And another of the Holy Gost,
The thirde of Our dere Lady,
That he loued allther moste.

10

Robyn loued Oure derë Lady;
For dout of dydly synne,
Wolde he neuer do compani harme
That any woman was in.

11

‘Maistar,’ than sayde Lytil Johnn,
‘And we our borde shal sprede,
Tell vs wheder that we shal go,
And what life that we shall lede.

12

‘Where we shall take, where we shall leue,
Where we shall abide behynde;
Where we shall robbe, where we shal reue,
Where we shal bete and bynde.’

13

‘Therof no force,’ than sayde Robyn;
‘We shall do well inowe;
But loke ye do no husbonde harme,
That tilleth with his ploughe.

14

‘No more ye shall no gode yeman
That walketh by grenë-wode shawe;
Ne no knyght ne no squyer
That wol be a gode felawe.

15

‘These bisshoppes and these archebishoppes,
Ye shall them bete and bynde;
The hyë sherif of Notyingham,
Hym holde ye in your mynde.’

16

‘This worde shalbe holde,’ sayde Lytell Johnn,
‘And this lesson we shall lere;
It is fer dayes; God sende vs a gest,
That we were at oure dynere!’

17

‘Take thy gode bowe in thy honde,’ sayde Rob[yn];
‘Late Much wende with the;
And so shal Willyam Scarlo[k],
And no man abyde with me.

18

‘And walke vp to the Saylis,
And so to Watlinge Stret[e],
And wayte after some vnkuth gest,
Vp chaunce ye may them mete.

19

‘Be he erle, or ani baron,
Abbot, or ani knyght,
Bringhe hym to lodge to me;
His dyner shall be dight.’

20

They wente vp to the Saylis,
These yeman all thre;
They loked est, they loke[d] weest;
They myght no man see.

21

But as they loked in to Bernysdale,
Bi a dernë strete,
Than came a knyght ridinghe;
Full sone they gan hym mete.

22

All dreri was his semblaunce,
And lytell was his pryde;
His one fote in the styrop stode,
That othere wauyd beside.

23

His hode hanged in his iyn two;
He rode in symple aray;
A soriar man than he was one
Rode neuer in somer day.

24

Litell Johnn was full curteyes,
And sette hym on his kne:
‘Welcom be ye, gentyll knyght,
Welcom ar ye to me.

25

‘Welcom be thou to grenë wode,
Hendë knyght and fre;
My maister hath abiden you fastinge,
Syr, al these ourës thre.’

26

‘Who is thy maister?’ sayde the knyght;
Johnn sayde, Robyn Hode;
‘He is [a] gode yoman,’ sayde the knyght,
‘Of hym I haue herde moche gode.

27

‘I graunte,’ he sayde, ‘with you to wende,
My bretherne, all in fere;
My purpos was to haue dyned to day
At Blith or Dancastere.’

28

Furth than went this gentyl knight,
With a carefull chere;
The teris oute of his iyen ran,
And fell downe by his lere.

29

They brought hym to the lodgë-dore;
Whan Robyn hym gan see,
Full curtesly dyd of his hode
And sette hym on his knee.

30

‘Welcome, sir knight,’ than sayde Robyn,
‘Welcome art thou to me;
I haue abyden you fastinge, sir,
All these ouris thre.’

31

Than answered the gentyll knight,
With wordës fayre and fre;
God the saue, goode Robyn,
And all thy fayre meynë.

32

They wasshed togeder and wyped bothe,
And sette to theyr dynere;
Brede and wyne they had right ynoughe,
And noumbles of the dere.

33

Swannes and fessauntes they had full gode,
And foules of the ryuere;
There fayled none so litell a birde
That euer was bred on bryre.

34

‘Do gladly, sir knight,’ sayde Robyn;
‘Gramarcy, sir,’ sayde he;
‘Suche a dinere had I nat
Of all these wekys thre.

35

‘If I come ageyne, Robyn,
Here by thys contrë,
As gode a dyner I shall the make
As that thou haest made to me.’

36

‘Gramarcy, knyght,’ sayde Robyn;
‘My dyner whan that I it haue,
I was neuer so gredy, bi dere worthy God,
My dyner for to craue.

37

‘But pay or ye wende,’ sayde Robyn;
‘Me thynketh it is gode ryght;
It was neuer the maner, by dere worthi God,
A yoman to pay for a knyhht.’

38

‘I haue nought in my coffers,’ saide the knyght,
‘That I may profer for shame:’
‘Litell Johnn, go loke,’ sayde Robyn,
‘Ne let nat for no blame.

39

‘Tel me truth,’ than saide Robyn,
‘So God haue parte of the:’
‘I haue no more but ten shelynges,’ sayde the knyght,
‘So God haue parte of me.’

40

If thou hast no more,' sayde Robyn,
‘I woll nat one peny;
And yf thou haue nede of any more,
More shall I lend the.

41

‘Go nowe furth, Littell Johnn,
The truth tell thou me;
If there be no more but ten shelinges,
No peny that I se.’

42

Lyttell Johnn sprede downe hys mantell
Full fayre vpon the grounde,
And there he fonde in the knyghtës cofer
But euen halfe [a] pounde.

43

Littell Johnn let it lye full styll,
And went to hys maysteer [full] lowe;
‘What tidyngës, Johnn?’ sayde Robyn;
‘Sir, the knyght is true inowe.’

44

‘Fyll of the best wine,’ sayde Robyn,
‘The knyght shall begynne;
Moche wonder thinketh me
Thy clot[h]ynge is so thin[n]e.

45

‘Tell me [one] worde,’ sayde Robyn,
‘And counsel shal it be;
I trowe thou warte made a knyght of force,
Or ellys of yemanry.

46

‘Or ellys thou hast bene a sori husbande,
And lyued in stroke and stryfe;
An okerer, or ellis a lechoure,’ sayde Robyn,
‘Wyth wronge hast led thy lyfe.’

47

‘I am none of those,’ sayde the knyght,
‘By God that madë me;
An hundred wynter here before
Myn auncetres knyghtes haue be.

48

‘But oft it hath befal, Robyn,
A man hath be disgrate;
But God that sitteth in heuen aboue
May amende his state.

49

‘Withyn this two yere, Robyne,’ he sayde,
‘My neghbours well it knowe,
Foure hundred pounde of gode money
Ful well than myght I spende.

50

‘Nowe haue I no gode,’ saide the knyght,
‘God hath shaped such an ende,
But my chyldren and my wyfe,
Tyll God yt may amende.’

51

‘In what maner,’ than sayde Robyn,
‘Hast thou lorne thy rychesse?’
‘For my greatë foly,’ he sayde,
‘And for my kynd[ë]nesse.

52

‘I hade a sone, forsoth, Robyn,
That shulde hau[e] ben myn ayre,
Whanne he was twenty wynter olde,
In felde wolde iust full fayre.

53

‘He slewe a knyght of Lancaster,
And a squyer bolde;
For to saue hym in his ryght
My godes both sette and solde.

54

‘My londes both sette to wedde, Robyn,
Vntyll a certayn day,
To a ryche abbot here besyde
Of Seynt Mari Abbey.’

55

‘What is the som?’ sayde Robyn;
‘Trouth than tell thou me;’
‘Sir,’ he sayde, ‘foure hundred pounde;
The abbot told it to me.’

56

‘Nowe and thou lese thy lond,’ sayde Robyn,
‘What woll fall of the?’
‘Hastely I wol me buske,’ sayd the knyght,
‘Ouer the saltë see,

57

‘And se w[h]ere Criste was quyke and dede,
On the mount of Caluerë;
Fare wel, frende, and haue gode day;
It may no better be.’

58

Teris fell out of hys iyen two;
He wolde haue gone hys way:
‘Farewel, frende, and haue gode day;
I ne haue no more to pay.’

59

‘Where be thy frendës?’ sayde Robyn:
‘Syr, neuer one wol me knowe;
While I was ryche ynowe at home
Great boste than wolde they blowe.

60

‘And nowe they renne away fro me,
As bestis on a rowe;
They take no more hede of me
Thanne they had me neuer sawe.’

61

For ruthe thanne wept Litell Johnn,
Scarlok and Muche in fere;
‘Fyl of the best wyne,’ sayde Robyn,
‘For here is a symple chere.

62

‘Hast thou any frende,’ sayde Robyn,
‘Thy borowe that woldë be?’
‘I haue none,’ than sayde the knyght,
‘But God that dyed on tree.’

63

‘Do away thy iapis,’ than sayde Robyn,
‘Thereof wol I right none;
Wenest thou I wolde haue God to borowe,
Peter, Poule, or Johnn?

64

‘Nay, by hym that me made,
And shope both sonne and mone,
Fynde me a better borowe,’ sayde Robyn,
‘Or money getest thou none.’

65

‘I haue none other,’ sayde the knyght,
‘The sothe for to say,
But yf yt be Our derë Lady;
She fayled me neuer or thys day.’

66

‘By dere worthy God,’ sayde Robyn,
‘To seche all Englonde thorowe,
Yet fonde I neuer to my pay
A moche better borowe.

67

‘Come nowe furth, Litell Johnn,
And go to my tresourë,
And bringe me foure hundered pound,
And loke well tolde it be.’

68

Furth than went Litell Johnn,
And Scarlok went before;
He tolde oute foure hundred pounde
By eight and twenty score.

69

‘Is thys well tolde?’ sayde [litell] Much;
Johnn sayde, ‘What gre[ue]th the?
It is almus to helpe a gentyll knyght,
That is fal in pouertë.

70

‘Master,’ than sayde Lityll John,
‘His clothinge is full thynne;
Ye must gyue the knight a lyueray,
To lappe his body therin.

71

‘For ye haue scarlet and grene, mayster,
And man[y] a riche aray;
Ther is no marchaunt in mery Englond
So ryche, I dare well say.’

72

‘Take hym thre yerdes of euery colour,
And loke well mete that it be;’
Lytell Johnn toke none other mesure
But his bowë-tree.

73

And at euery handfull that he met
He lepëd footës three;
‘What deuyllës drapar,’ sayid litell Muche,
‘Thynkest thou for to be?’

74

Scarlok stode full stil and loughe,
And sayd, By God Almyght,
Johnn may gyue hym gode mesure,
For it costeth hym but lyght.

75

‘Mayster,’ than said Litell Johnn
To gentill Robyn Hode,
‘Ye must giue the knig[h]t a hors,
To lede home this gode.’

76

‘Take hym a gray coursar,’ sayde Robyn,
‘And a saydle newe;
He is Oure Ladye's messangere;
God graunt that he be true.’

77

‘And a gode palfray,’ sayde lytell Much,
‘To mayntene hym in his right;’
‘And a peyre of botës,’ sayde Scarlock,
‘For he is a gentyll knight.’

78

‘What shalt thou gyue hym, Litell John?’ said Robyn;
‘Sir, a peyre of gilt sporis clene,
To pray for all this company;
God bringe hym oute of tene.’

79

‘Whan shal mi day be,’ said the knight,
‘Sir, and your wyll be?’
‘This day twelue moneth,’ saide Robyn,
‘Vnder this grenë-wode tre.

80

‘It were greate shamë,’ sayde Robyn,
‘A knight alone to ryde,
Withoutë squyre, yoman, or page,
To walkë by his syde.

81

‘I shall the lende Litell John, my man,
For he shalbe thy knaue;
In a yema[n]'s stede he may the stande,
If thou greate nedë haue.’

THE SECONDE FYTTE.

82

Now is the knight gone on his way;
This game hym thought full gode;
Whanne he loked on Bernesdale
He blessyd Robyn Hode.

83

And whanne he thought on Bernysdale,
On Scarlok, Much, and Johnn,
He blyssyd them for the best company
That euer he in come.

84

Then spake that gentyll knyght,
To Lytel Johan gan he saye,
To-morrowe I must to Yorke toune,
To Saynt Mary abbay.

85

And to the abbot of that place
Foure hondred pounde I must pay;
And but I be there vpon this nyght
My londe is lost for ay.

86

The abbot sayd to his couent,
There he stode on grounde,
This day twelfe moneth came there a knyght
And borowed foure hondred pounde.

87

[He borowed foure hondred pounde,]
Upon all his londë fre;
But he come this ylkë day
Dysheryte shall he be.

88

‘It is full erely,’ sayd the pryoure,
‘The day is not yet ferre gone;
I had leuer to pay an hondred pounde,
And lay downe anone.

89

‘The knyght is ferre beyonde the see,
In Englonde is his ryght,
And suffreth honger and colde,
And many a sory nyght.

90

‘It were grete pytë,’ said the pryoure,
‘So to haue his londe;
And ye be so lyght of your consyence,
Ye do to hym moch wronge.’

91

‘Thou arte euer in my berde,’ sayd the abbot,
‘By God and Saynt Rycharde;’

With that cam in a fat-heded monke,
The heygh selerer.

92

‘He is dede or hanged,’ sayd the monke,
‘By God that bought me dere,
And we shall haue to spende in this place
Foure hondred pounde by yere.’

93

The abbot and the hy selerer
Stertë forthe full bolde,
The [hye] iustyce of Englonde
The abbot there dyde holde.

94

The hyë iustyce and many mo
Had take in to they[r] honde
Holy all the knyghtës det,
To put that knyght to wronge.

95

They demed the knyght wonder sore,
The abbot and his meynë:
‘But he come this ylkë day
Dysheryte shall he be.’

96

‘He wyll not come yet,’ sayd the iustyce,
‘I dare well vndertake;’
But in sorowe tymë for them all
The knyght came to the gate.

97

Than bespake that gentyll knyght
Untyll his meynë:
Now put on your symple wedes
That ye brought fro the see.

98

[They put on their symple wedes,]
They came to the gates anone;
The porter was redy hymselfe,
And welcomed them euerychone.

99

‘Welcome, syr knyght,’ sayd the porter;
‘My lorde to mete is he,
And so is many a gentyll man,
For the loue of the.’

100

The porter swore a full grete othe,
‘By God that madë me,
Here be the best coresed hors
That euer yet sawe I me.

101

‘Lede them in to the stable,’ he sayd,
‘That eased myght they be;’
‘They shall not come therin,’ sayd the knyght,
‘By God that dyed on a tre.’

102

Lordës were to mete isette
In that abbotes hall;
The knyght went forth and kneled downe,
And salued them grete and small.

103

‘Do gladly, syr abbot,’ sayd the knyght,
‘I am come to holde my day:’
The fyrst word the abbot spake,
‘Hast thou brought my pay?’

104

‘Not one peny,’ sayd the knyght,
‘By God that maked me;’
‘Thou art a shrewed dettour,’ sayd the abbot;
‘Syr iustyce, drynke to me.

105

‘What doost thou here,’ sayd the abbot,
‘But thou haddest brought thy pay?’
‘For God,’ than sayd the knyght,
‘To pray of a lenger daye.’

106

‘Thy daye is broke,’ sayd the iustyce,
‘Londe getest thou none:’
‘Now, good syr iustyce, be my frende,
And fende me of my fone!’

107

‘I am holde with the abbot,’ sayd the iustyce,
‘Both with cloth and fee:’
‘Now, good syr sheryf, be my frende!’
‘Nay, for God,’ sayd he.

108

‘Now, good syr abbot, be my frende,
For thy curteysë,
And holde my londës in thy honde
Tyll I haue made the gree!

109

‘And I wyll be thy true seruaunte,
And trewely seruë the,
Tyl ye haue foure hondred pounde
Of money good and free.’

110

The abbot sware a full grete othe,
‘By God that dyed on a tree,
Get the londe where thou may,
For thou getest none of me.’

111

‘By dere worthy God,’ then sayd the knyght,
‘That all this worldë wrought,
But I haue my londe agayne,
Full dere it shall be bought.

112

‘God, that was of a mayden borne,
Leue vs well to spede!

For it is good to assay a frende
Or that a man haue nede.’

113

The abbot lothely on hym gan loke,
And vylaynesly hym gan call;
‘Out,’ he sayd, ‘thou falsë knyght,
Spede the out of my hall!’

114

‘Thou lyest,’ then sayd the gentyll knyght,
‘Abbot, in thy hal;
False knyght was I neuer,
By God that made vs all.’

115

Vp then stode that gentyll knyght,
To the abbot sayd he,
To suffre a knyght to knele so longe,
Thou canst no curteysye.

116

In ioustës and in tournement
Full ferre than haue I be,
And put my selfe as ferre in prees
As ony that euer I se.

117

‘What wyll ye gyue more,’ sayd the iustice,
‘And the knyght shall make a releyse?
And elles dare I safly swere
Ye holde neuer your londe in pees.’

118

‘An hondred pounde,’ sayd the abbot;
The justice sayd, Gyue hym two;
‘Nay, be God,’ sayd the knyght,
‘Yit gete ye it not so.

119

‘Though ye wolde gyue a thousand more,
Yet were ye neuer the nere;
Shall there neuer be myn heyre
Abbot, iustice, ne frere.’

120

He stert hym to a borde anone,
Tyll a table rounde,
And there he shoke oute of a bagge
Euen four hundred pound.

121

‘Haue here thi golde, sir abbot,’ saide the knight,
‘Which that thou lentest me;
Had thou ben curtes at my comynge,
Rewarded shuldest thou haue be.’

122

The abbot sat styll, and ete no more,
For all his ryall fare;
He cast his hede on his shulder,
And fast began to stare.

123

‘Take me my golde agayne,’ said the abbot,
‘Sir iustice, that I toke the:’
‘Not a peni,’ said the iustice,
‘Bi Go[d, that dy]ed on tree.’

124

‘Sir [abbot, and ye me]n of lawe,
Now haue I holde my daye;
Now shall I haue my londe agayne,
For ought that you can saye.’

125

The knyght stert out of the dore,
Awaye was all his care,
And on he put his good clothynge,
The other he lefte there.

126

He wente hym forth full mery syngynge,
As men haue tolde in tale;
His lady met hym at the gate,
At home in Verysdale.

127

‘Welcome, my lorde,’ sayd his lady;
‘Syr, lost is all your good?’
‘Be mery, dame,’ sayd the knyght,
‘And pray for Robyn Hode,

128

‘That euer his soulë be in blysse:
He holpe me out of tene;
Ne had be his kyndënesse,
Beggers had we bene.

129

‘The abbot and I accorded ben,
He is serued of his pay;
The god yoman lent it me,
As I cam by the way.’

130

This knight than dwelled fayre at home,
The sothe for to saye,
Tyll he had gete four hundred pound,
Al redy for to pay.

131

He purueyed him an hundred bowes,
The stryngës well ydyght,
An hundred shefe of arowës gode,
The hedys burneshed full bryght;

132

And euery arowe an ellë longe,
With pecok wel idyght,
Inocked all with whyte siluer;
It was a semely syght.

133

He purueyed hym an [hondreth men],
Well harness[ed in that stede],

And hym selfe in that same sete,
And clothed in whyte and rede.

134

He bare a launsgay in his honde,
And a man ledde his male,
And reden with a lyght songe
Vnto Bernysdale.

135

But as he went at a brydge ther was a wrastelyng,
And there taryed was he,
And there was all the best yemen
Of all the west countree.

136

A full fayre game there was vp set,
A whyte bulle vp i-pyght,
A grete courser, with sadle and brydil,
With golde burnyssht full bryght.

137

A payre of gloues, a rede golde rynge,
A pype of wyne, in fay;
What man that bereth hym best i-wys
The pryce shall bere away.

138

There was a yoman in that place,
And best worthy was he,
And for he was ferre and frembde bested,
Slayne he shulde haue be.

139

The knight had ruthe of this yoman,
In placë where he stode;
He sayde that yoman shulde haue no harme,
For loue of Robyn Hode.

140

The knyght presed in to the place,
An hundreth folowed hym [free],
With bowës bent and arowës sharpe,
For to shende that companye.

141

They shulderd all and made hym rome,
To wete what he wolde say;
He toke the yeman bi the hande,
And gaue hym al the play.

142

He gaue hym fyue marke for his wyne,
There it lay on the molde,
And bad it shulde be set a broche,
Drynkë who so wolde.

143

Thus longe taried this gentyll knyght,
Tyll that play was done;
So longe abode Robyn fastinge,
Thre hourës after the none.

THE THIRDE FYTTE.

144

Lyth and lystyn, gentilmen,
All that nowe be here;
Of Litell Johnn, that was the knightës man,
Goode myrth ye shall here.

145

It was vpon a mery day
That yonge men wolde go shete;
Lytell Johnn fet his bowe anone,
And sayde he wolde them mete.

146

Thre tymes Litell Johnn shet aboute,
And alwey he slet the wande;
The proudë sherif of Notingham
By the markës can stande.

147

The sherif swore a full greate othe:
‘By hym that dyede on a tre,
This man is the best arschére
That euer yet sawe I [me.]

148

‘Say me nowe, wight yonge man,
What is nowe thy name?
In what countre were thou borne,
And where is thy wonynge wane?’

149

‘In Holdernes, sir, I was borne,
I-wys al of my dame;
Men cal me Reynolde Grenëlef
Whan I am at home.’

150

‘Sey me, Reyno[l]de Grenëlefe,
Wolde thou dwell with me?
And euery yere I woll the gyue
Twenty marke to thy fee.’

151

‘I haue a maister,’ sayde Litell Johnn,
‘A curteys knight is he;
May ye leuë gete of hym,
The better may it be.’

152

The sherif gate Litell John
Twelue monethës of the knight;
Therfore he gaue him right anone
A gode hors and a wight.

153

Nowe is Litell John the sherifës man,
God lende vs well to spede!
But alwey thought Lytell John
To quyte hym wele his mede.

154

‘Nowe so God me helpë,’ sayde Litell John,
‘And by my true leutye,
I shall be the worst seruaunt to hym
That euer yet had he.’

155

It fell vpon a Wednesday
The sherif on huntynge was gone,
And Litel Iohn lay in his bed,
And was foriete at home.

156

Therfore he was fastinge
Til it was past the none;
‘Gode sir stuarde, I pray to the,
Gyue me my dynere,’ saide Litell John.

157

‘It is longe for Grenëlefe
Fastinge thus for to be;
Therfor I pray the, sir stuarde,
Mi dyner gif me.’

158

‘Shalt thou neuer ete ne drynke,’ saide the stuarde,
‘Tyll my lorde he come to towne:’
‘I make myn auowe to God,’ saide Litell John,
‘I had leuer to crake thy crowne.’

159

The boteler was full vncurteys,
There he stode on flore;
He start to the botery
And shet fast the dore.

160

Lytell Johnn gaue the boteler suche a tap
His backe went nere in two;
Though he liued an hundred ier,
The wors shuld he go.

161

He sporned the dore with his fote;
It went open wel and fyne;
And there he made large lyueray,
Bothe of ale and of wyne.

162

‘Sith ye wol nat dyne,’ sayde Litell John,
‘I shall gyue you to drinke;
And though ye lyue an hundred wynter,
On Lytel Johnn ye shall thinke.’

163

Litell John ete, and Litel John drank,
The whilë that he wolde;
The sherife had in his kechyn a coke,
A stoute man and a bolde.

164

‘I make myn auowe to God,’ saide the coke,
‘Thou arte a shrewde hynde
In ani hous for to dwel,
For to askë thus to dyne.’

165

And there he lent Litell John
God[ë] strokis thre;
‘I make myn auowe to God,’ sayde Lytell John,
‘These strokis lyked well me.

166

‘Thou arte a bolde man and hardy,
And so thinketh me;
And or I pas fro this place
Assayed better shalt thou be.’

167

Lytell Johnn drew a ful gode sworde,
The coke toke another in hande;
They thought no thynge for to fle,
But stifly for to stande.

168

There they faught sore togedere
Two mylë way and well more;
Myght neyther other harme done,
The mountnaunce of an owre.

169

‘I make myn auowe to God,’ sayde Litell Johnn,
‘And by my true lewtë,
Thou art one of the best sworde-men
That euer yit sawe I [me.]

170

‘Cowdest thou shote as well in a bowe,
To grenë wode thou shuldest with me,
And two times in the yere thy clothinge
Chaunged shuldë be;

171

‘And euery yere of Robyn Hode
Twenty merke to thy fe:’
‘Put vp thy swerde,’ saide the coke,
‘And felowës woll we be.’

172

Thanne he fet to Lytell Johnn
The nowmbles of a do,
Gode brede, and full gode wyne;
They ete and drank theretoo.

173

And when they had dronkyn well,
Theyre trouthës togeder they plight
That they wo[l]de be with Robyn
That ylkë samë nyght.

174

They dyd them to the tresoure-hows,
As fast as they myght gone;

The lokkës, that were of full gode stele,
They brake them euerichone.

175

They toke away the siluer vessell,
And all that thei mig[h]t get;
Pecis, masars, ne sponis,
Wolde thei not forget.

176

Also [they] toke the godë pens,
Thre hundred pounde and more,
And did them st[r]eyte to Robyn Hode,
Under the grenë wode hore.

177

‘God the saue, my derë mayster,
And Criste the saue and se!’
And thanne sayde Robyn to Litell Johnn,
Welcome myght thou be.

178

‘Also be that fayre yeman
Thou bryngest there with the;
What tydyngës fro Noty[n]gham?
Lytill Johnn, tell thou me.’

179

‘Well the gretith the proudë sheryf,
And sende[th] the here by me
His coke and his siluer vessell,
And thre hundred pounde and thre.’

180

‘I make myne avowe to God,’ sayde Robyn,
‘And to the Trenytë,
It was neuer by his gode wyll
This gode is come to me.’

181

Lytyll Johnn there hym bethought
On a shrewde wyle;
Fyue myle in the forest he ran,
Hym happed all his wyll.

182

Than he met the proudë sheref,
Huntynge with houndes and horne;
Lytell Johnn coude of curtesye,
And knelyd hym beforne.

183

‘God the saue, my derë mayster,
And Criste the saue and se!’
‘Reynolde Grenëlefe,’ sayde the shryef,
‘Where hast thou nowe be?’

184

‘I haue be in this forest;
A fayre syght can I se;
It was one of the fayrest syghtes
That euer yet sawe I me.

185

‘Yonder I sawe a ryght fayre harte,
His coloure is of grene;
Seuen score of dere vpon a herde
Be with hym all bydene.

186

‘Their tyndës are so sharpe, maister,
Of sexty, and well mo,
That I durst not shote for drede,
Lest they wolde me slo.’

187

‘I make myn auowe to God,’ sayde the shyref,
‘That syght wolde I fayne se:’
‘Buske you thyderwarde, mi derë mayster,
Anone, and wende with me.’

188

The sherif rode, and Litell Johnn
Of fote he was full smerte,
And whane they came before Robyn,
‘Lo, sir, here is the mayster-herte.’

189

Still stode the proudë sherief,
A sory man was he;
‘Wo the worthe, Raynolde Grenëlefe,
Thou hast betrayed nowe me.’

190

‘I make myn auowe to God,’ sayde Litell Johnn,
‘Mayster, ye be to blame;
I was mysserued of my dynere
Whan I was with you at home.’

191

Sone he was to souper sette,
And serued well with siluer white,
And whan the sherif sawe his vessell,
For sorowe he myght nat ete.

192

‘Make glad chere,’ sayde Robyn Hode,
‘Sherif, for charitë,
And for the loue of Litill Johnn
Thy lyfe I graunt to the.’

193

Whan they had souped well,
The day was al gone;
Robyn commaunde[d] Litell Johnn
To drawe of his hosen and his shone;

194

His kirtell, and his cote of pie,
That was fured well and fine,
And to[ke] hym a grene mantel,
To lap his body therin.

195

Robyn commaundyd his wight yonge men,
Vnder the grenë-wode tree,

They shulde lye in that same sute,
That the sherif myght them see.

196

All nyght lay the proudë sherif
In his breche and in his [s]chert;
No wonder it was, in grenë wode,
Though his sydës gan to smerte.

197

‘Make glade chere,’ sayde Robyn Hode,
‘Sheref, for charitë;
For this is our ordre i-wys,
Vnder the grenë-wode tree.’

198

‘This is harder order,’ sayde the sherief,
‘Than any ankir or frere;
For all the golde in mery Englonde
I wolde nat longe dwell her.’

199

‘All this twelue monthes,’ sayde Robin,
‘Thou shalt dwell with me;
I shall the techë, proudë sherif,
An outlawë for to be.’

200

‘Or I be here another nyght,’ sayde the sherif,
‘Robyn, nowe pray I the,
Smyte of mijn hede rather to-morowe,
And I forgyue it the.

201

‘Lat me go,’ than sayde the sherif,
‘For sayntë charitë,
And I woll be the best[ë] frende
That euer yet had ye.’

202

‘Thou shalt swere me an othe,’ sayde Robyn,
‘On my bright bronde;
Shalt thou neuer awayte me scathe,
By water ne by lande.

203

‘And if thou fynde any of my men,
By nyght or [by] day,
Vpon thyn othë thou shalt swere
To helpe them tha[t] thou may.’

204

Nowe hathe the sherif sworne his othe,
And home he began to gone;
He was as full of grenë wode
As euer was hepe of stone.

THE FOURTH FYTTE.

205

The sherif dwelled in Notingham;
He was fayne he was agone;
And Robyn and his mery men
Went to wode anone.

206

‘Go we to dyner,’ sayde Littell Johnn;
Robyn Hode sayde, Nay;
For I drede Our Lady be wroth with me,
For she sent me nat my pay.

207

‘Haue no doute, maister,’ sayde Litell Johnn;
‘Yet is nat the sonne at rest;
For I dare say, and sauely swere,
The knight is true and truste.’

208

‘Take thy bowe in thy hande,’ sayde Robyn,
‘Late Much wende with the,
And so shal Wyllyam Scarlok,
And no man abyde with me.

209

‘And walke vp vnder the Sayles,
And to Watlynge-strete,
And wayte after some vnketh gest;
Vp-chaunce ye may them mete.

210

‘Whether he be messengere,
Or a man that myrthës can,
Of my good he shall haue some,
Yf he be a porë man.’

211

Forth then stert Lytel Johan,
Half in tray and tene,
And gyrde hym with a full good swerde,
Under a mantel of grene.

212

They went vp to the Sayles,
These yemen all thre;
They loked est, they loked west,
They myght no man se.

213

But as [t]he[y] loked in Bernysdale,
By the hyë waye,
Than were they ware of two blacke monkes,
Eche on a good palferay.

214

Then bespake Lytell Johan,
To Much he gan say,
I dare lay my lyfe to wedde,
That [these] monkes haue brought our pay.

215

‘Make glad chere,’ sayd Lytell Johan,
‘And frese your bowes of ewe,
And loke your hertës be seker and sad,
Your stryngës trusty and trewe.

216

‘The monke hath two and fifty [men,]
And seuen somers full stronge;
There rydeth no bysshop in this londe
So ryally, I vnderstond.

217

‘Brethern,’ sayd Lytell Johan,
‘Here are no more but we thre;
But we bryngë them to dyner,
Our mayster dare we not se.

218

‘Bende your bowes,’ sayd Lytell Johan,
‘Make all yon prese to stonde;
The formost monke, his lyfe and his deth
Is closed in my honde.

219

‘Abyde, chorle monke,’ sayd Lytell Johan,
‘No ferther that thou gone;
Yf thou doost, by dere worthy God,
Thy deth is in my honde.

220

‘And euyll thryfte on thy hede,’ sayd Lytell Johan,
‘Ryght vnder thy hattës bonde;
For thou hast made our mayster wroth,
He is fastynge so longe.’

221

‘Who is your mayster?’ sayd the monke;
Lytell Johan sayd, Robyn Hode;
‘He is a stronge thefe,’ sayd the monke,
‘Of hym herd I neuer good.’

222

‘Thou lyest,’ than sayd Lytell Johan,
‘And that shall rewë the;
He is a yeman of the forest,
To dyne he hath bodë the.’

223

Much was redy with a bolte,
Redly and anone,
He set the monke to-fore the brest,
To the grounde that he can gone.

224

Of two and fyfty wyght yonge yemen
There abode not one,
Saf a lytell page and a grome,
To lede the somers with Lytel Johan.

225

They brought the monke to the lodgë-dore,
Whether he were loth or lefe,
For to speke with Robyn Hode,
Maugre in theyr tethe.

226

Robyn dyde adowne his hode,
The monke whan that he se;
The monke was not so curtëyse,
His hode then let he be.

227

‘He is a chorle, mayster, by dere worthy God,’
Than sayd Lytell Johan:
‘Thereof no force,’ sayd Robyn,
‘For curteysy can he none.

228

‘How many men,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Had this monke, Johan?’
‘Fyfty and two whan that we met,
But many of them be gone.’

229

‘Let blowe a horne,’ sayd Robyn,
‘That felaushyp may vs knowe;’
Seuen score of wyght yemen
Came.pryckynge on a rowe.

230

And euerych of them a good mantell
Of scarlet and of raye;
All they came to good Robyn,
To wyte what he wolde say.

231

They made the monke to wasshe and wype,
And syt at his denere,
Robyn Hode and Lytell Johan
They serued him both in-fere.

232

‘Do gladly, monke,’ sayd Robyn.
‘Gramercy, syr,’ sayd he.
‘Where is your abbay, whan ye are at home,
And who is your avowë?’

233

‘Saynt Mary abbay,’ sayd the monke,
‘Though I be symple here.’
‘In what offyce?’ sayd Robyn:
‘Syr, the hyë selerer.’

234

‘Ye be the more welcome,’ sayd Robyn,
‘So euer mote I the;
Fyll of the best wyne,’ sayd Robyn,
‘This monke shall drynke to me.

235

‘But I haue grete meruayle,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Of all this longë day;
I drede Our Lady be wroth with me,
She sent me not my pay.’

236

‘Haue no doute, mayster,’ sayd Lytell Johan,
‘Ye haue no nede, I saye;
This monke it hath brought, I dare well swere,
For he is of her abbay.’

237

‘And she was a borowe,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Betwene a knyght and me,
Of a lytell money that I hym lent,
Under the grëne-wode tree.

238

‘And yf thou hast that syluer ibrought,
I pray the let me se;
And I shall helpë the eftsones,
Yf thou haue nede to me.’

239

The monke swore a full grete othe,
With a sory chere,
‘Of the borowehode thou spekest to me,
Herde I neuer ere.’

240

‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Monke, thou art to blame;
For God is holde a ryghtwys man,
And so is his dame.

241

‘Thou toldest with thyn ownë tonge,
Thou may not say nay,
How thou arte her seruaunt,
And seruest her euery day.

242

‘And thou art made her messengere,
My money for to pay;
Therfore I cun the morë thanke
Thou arte come at thy day.

243

‘What is in your cofers?’ sayd Robyn,
‘Trewe than tell thou me:’
‘Syr,’ he sayd, ‘twenty marke,
Al so mote I the.’

244

‘Yf there be no more,’ sayd Robyn,
‘I wyll not one peny;
Yf thou hast myster of ony more,
Syr, more I shall lende to the.

245

‘And yf I fyndë [more,’ sayd] Robyn,
‘I-wys thou shalte it for gone;
For of thy spendynge-syluer, monke,
Thereof wyll I ryght none.

246

‘Go nowe forthe, Lytell Johan,
And the trouth tell thou me;
If there be no more but twenty marke,
No peny that I se.’

247

Lytell Johan spred his mantell downe,
As he had done before,
And he tolde out of the monkës male
Eyght [hondred] pounde and more.

248

Lytell Johan let it lye full styll,
And went to his mayster in hast;
‘Syr,’ he sayd, ‘the monke is trewe ynowe,
Our Lady hath doubled your cast.’

249

‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn —
‘Monke, what tolde I the? —
Our Lady is the trewest woman
That euer yet founde I me.

250

‘By dere worthy God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘To seche all Englond thorowe,
Yet founde I neuer to my pay
A moche better borowe.

251

‘Fyll of the best wyne, and do hym drynke,’ sayd Robyn,
‘And grete well thy lady hende,
And yf she haue nede to Robyn Hode,
A frende she shall hym fynde.

252

‘And yf she nedeth ony more syluer,
Come thou agayne to me,
And, by this token she hath me sent,
She shall haue such thre.’

253

The monke was goynge to London ward,
There to holde grete mote,
The knyght that rode so hye on hors,
To brynge hym vnder fote.

254

‘Whether be ye away?’ sayd Robyn:
‘Syr, to maners in this londe,
Too reken with our reues,
That haue done moch wronge.’

255

‘Come now forth, Lytell Johan,
And harken to my tale;
A better yemen I knowe none,
To seke a monkës male.’

256

‘How moch is in yonder other corser?’ sayd Robyn,
‘The soth must we see:’

‘By Our Lady,’ than sayd the monke,
‘That were no curteysye,

257

‘To bydde a man to dyner,
And syth hym bete and bynde.’
‘It is our oldë maner,’ sayd Robyn,
‘To leue but lytell behynde.’

258

The monke toke the hors with spore,
No lenger wolde he abyde:
‘Askë to drynkë,’ than sayd Robyn,
‘Or that ye forther ryde.’

259

‘Nay, for God,’ than sayd the monke,
‘Me reweth I cam so nere;
For better chepe I myght haue dyned
In Blythe or in Dankestere.’

260

‘Grete well your abbot,’ sayd Robyn,
‘And your pryour, I you pray,
And byd hym send me such a monke
To dyner euery day.’

261

Now lete we that monke be styll,
And speke we of that knyght:
Yet he came to holde his day,
Whyle that it was lyght.

262

He dyde him streyt to Bernysdale,
Under the grenë-wode tre,
And he founde there Robyn Hode,
And all his mery meynë.

263

The knyght lyght doune of his good palfray;
Robyn whan he gan see,
So curteysly he dyde adoune his hode,
And set hym on his knee.

264

‘God the sauë, Robyn Hode,
And all this company:’
‘Welcome be thou, gentyll knyght,
And ryght welcome to me.’

265

Than bespake hym Robyn Hode,
To that knyght so fre:
What nedë dryueth the to grenë wode?
I praye the, syr knyght, tell me.

266

‘And welcome be thou, ge[n]tyll knyght,
Why hast thou be so longe?’
‘For the abbot and the hyë iustyce
Wolde haue had my londe.’

267

‘Hast thou thy londe [a]gayne?’ sayd Robyn;
‘Treuth than tell thou me:’
‘Ye, for God,’ sayd the knyght,
‘And that thanke I God and the.

268

‘But take not a grefe,’ sayd the knyght, ‘that I haue be so longe;
I came by a wrastelynge,
And there I holpe a porë yeman,
With wronge was put behynde.’

269

‘Nay, for God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Syr knyght, that thanke I the;
What man that helpeth a good yeman,
His frende than wyll I be.’

270

‘Haue here foure hondred pounde,’ than sayd the knyght,
‘The whiche ye lent to me;
And here is also twenty marke
For your curteysy.’

271

‘Nay, for God,’ than sayd Robyn,
‘Thou broke it well for ay;
For Our Lady, by her [hyë] selerer,
Hath sent to me my pay.

272

‘And yf I toke it i-twyse,
A shame it were to me;
But trewely, gentyll knyght,
Welcom arte thou to me.’

273

Whan Robyn had tolde his tale,
He leugh and had good chere:
‘By my trouthe,’ then sayd the knyght,
‘Your money is redy here.’

274

‘Broke it well,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Thou gentyll knyght so fre;
And welcome be thou, ge[n]tyll knyght,
Under my trystell-tre.

275

‘But what shall these bowës do?’ sayd Robyn,
‘And these arowës ifedred fre?’
‘By God,’ than sayd the knyght,
‘A porë present to the.’

276

‘Come now forth, Lytell Johan,
And go to my treasurë,
And brynge me there foure hondred pounde;
The monke ouer-tolde it me.

277

‘Haue here foure hondred pounde,
Thou gentyll knyght and trewe,
And bye hors and harnes good,
And gylte thy spores all newe.

278

‘And yf thou fayle ony spendynge,
Com to Robyn Hode,
And by my trouth thou shalt none fayle,
The whyles I haue any good.

279

‘And broke well thy foure hondred pound,
Whiche I lent to the,
And make thy selfe no more so bare,
By the counsell of me.’

280

Thus than holpe hym good Robyn,
The knyght all of his care:
God, that syt in heuen hye,
Graunte vs well to fare!

THE FYFTH FYTTE.

281

Now hath the knyght his leue i-take,
And wente hym on his way;
Robyn Hode and his mery men
Dwelled styll full many a day.

282

Lyth and lysten, gentil men,
And herken what I shall say,
How the proud[ë] sheryfe of Notyngham
Dyde crye a full fayre play;

283

That all the best archers of the north
Sholde come vpon a day,
And [he] that shoteth allther best
The game shall bere a way.

284

He that shoteth allther best,
Furthest fayre and lowe,
At a payre of fynly buttes,
Under the grenë-wode shawe,

285

A ryght good arowe he shall haue,
The shaft of syluer whyte,
The hede and the feders of ryche rede golde,
In Englond is none lyke.

286

This than herde good Robyn,
Under his trystell-tre:
‘Make you redy, ye wyght yonge men;
That shotynge wyll I se.

287

‘Buske you, my mery yonge men,
Ye shall go with me;
And I wyll wete the shryuës fayth,
Trewe and yf he be.’

288

Whan they had theyr bowes i-bent,
Theyr takles fedred fre,
Seuen score of wyght yonge men
Stode by Robyns kne.

289

Whan they cam to Notyngham,
The buttes were fayre and longe;
Many was the bolde archere
That shoted with bowës stronge.

290

‘There shall but syx shote with me;
The other shal kepe my he[ue]de,
And standë with good bowës bent,
That I be not desceyued.’

291

The fourth outlawe his bowe gan bende,
And that was Robyn Hode,
And that behelde the proud[ë] sheryfe,
All by the but [as] he stode.

292

Thryës Robyn shot about,
And alway he slist the wand,
And so dyde good Gylberte
Wyth the whytë hande.

293

Lytell Johan and good Scatheloke
Were archers good and fre;
Lytell Much and good Reynolde,
The worste wolde they not be.

294

Whan they had shot aboute,
These archours fayre and good,
Euermore was the best,
For soth, Robyn Hode.

295

Hym was delyuered the good arowe,
For best worthy was he;
He toke the yeft so curteysly,
To grenë wode wolde he.

296

They cryed out on Robyn Hode,
And grete hornës gan they blowe:
‘Wo worth the, treason!’ sayd Robyn,
‘Full euyl thou art to knowe.

297

‘And wo be thou! thou proudë sheryf,
Thus gladdynge thy gest;

Other wyse thou behotë me
In yonder wylde forest.

298

‘But had I the in grenë wode,
Under my trystell-tre,
Thou sholdest leue me a better wedde
Than thy trewe lewtë.’

299

Full many a bowë there was bent,
And arowës let they glyde;
Many a kyrtell there was rent,
And hurt many a syde.

300

The outlawes shot was so stronge
That no man myght them dryue,
And the proud[ë] sheryfës men,
They fled away full blyue.

301

Robyn sawe the busshement to-broke,
In grenë wode he wolde haue be;
Many an arowe there was shot
Amonge that company.

302

Lytell Johan was hurte full sore,
With an arowe in his kne,
That he myght neyther go nor ryde;
It was full grete pytë.

303

‘Mayster,’ then sayd Lytell Johan,
‘If euer thou loue[d]st me,
And for that ylkë lordës loue
That dyed vpon a tre,

304

‘And for the medes of my seruyce,
That I haue serued the,
Lete neuer the proudë sheryf
Alyue now fyndë me.

305

‘But take out thy brownë swerde,
And smyte all of my hede,
And gyue me woundës depe and wyde;
No lyfe on me be lefte.’

306

‘I wolde not that,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Johan, that thou were slawe,
For all the golde in mery Englonde,
Though it lay now on a rawe.’

307

‘God forbede,’ sayd Lytell Much,
‘That dyed on a tre,
That thou sholdest, Lytell Johan,
Parte our company.’

308

Up he toke hym on his backe,
And bare hym well a myle;
Many a tyme he layd hym downe,
And shot another whyle.

309

Then was there a fayre castell,
A lytell within the wode;
Double-dyched it was about,
And walled, by the rode.

310

And there dwelled that gentyll knyght,
Syr Rychard at the Lee,
That Robyn had lent his good,
Under the grenë-wode tree.

311

In he toke good Robyn,
And all his company:
‘Welcome be thou, Robyn Hode,
Welcome arte thou to me;

312

‘And moche [I] thanke the of thy confort,
And of thy curteysye,
And of thy gretë kyndënesse,
Under the grenë-wode tre.

313

‘I loue no man in all this worlde
So much as I do the;
For all the proud[ë] sheryf of Notyngham,
Ryght here shalt thou be.

314

‘Shyt the gates, and drawe the brydge,
And let no man come in,
And arme you well, and make you redy,
And to the walles ye wynne.

315

‘For one thynge, Robyn, I the behote;
I swere by Saynt Quyntyne,
These forty dayes thou wonnest with me,
To soupe, ete, and dyne.’

316

Bordes were layde, and clothes were spredde,
Redely and anone;
Robyn Hode and his mery men
To metë can they gone.

THE VI. FYTTE.

317

Lythe and lysten, gentylmen,
And herkyn to your songe;
Howe the proudë shyref of Notyngham,
And men of armys stronge,

318

Full fast cam to the hyë shyref,
The contrë vp to route,
And they besette the knyghtës castell,
The wallës all aboute.

319

The proudë shyref loude gan crye,
And sayde, Thou traytour knight,
Thou kepest here the kynges enemys,
Agaynst the lawe and right.

320

‘Syr, I wyll auowe that I haue done,
The dedys that here be dyght,
Vpon all the landës that I haue,
As I am a trewë knyght.

321

‘Wende furth, sirs, on your way,
And do no more to me
Tyll ye wyt oure kyngës wille,
What he wyll say to the.’

322

The shyref thus had his answere,
Without any lesynge;
[Fu]rth he yede to London towne,
All for to tel our kinge.

323

Ther he telde him of that knight,
And eke of Robyn Hode,
And also of the bolde archars,
That were soo noble and gode.

324

‘He wyll auowe that he hath done,
To mayntene the outlawes stronge;
He wyll be lorde, and set you at nought,
In all the northe londe.’

325

‘I wil be at Notyngham,’ saide our kynge,
‘Within this fourteenyght,
And take I wyll Robyn Hode,
And so I wyll that knight.

326

‘Go nowe home, shyref,’ sayde our kynge,
‘And do as I byd the;
And ordeyn gode archers ynowe,
Of all the wydë contrë.’

327

The shyref had his leue i-take,
And went hym on his way,
And Robyn Hode to grenë wode,
Vpon a certen day.

328

And Lytel John was hole of the arowe
That shot was in his kne,
And dyd hym streyght to Robyn Hode,
Vnder the grenë-wode tree.

329

Robyn Hode walked in the forest,
Vnder the leuys grene;
The proudë shyref of Notyngham
Thereof he had grete tene.

330

The shyref there fayled of Robyn Hode,
He myght not haue his pray;
Than he awayted this gentyll knyght,
Bothe by nyght and day.

331

Euer he wayted the gentyll knyght,
Syr Richarde at the Lee,
As he went on haukynge by the ryuer-syde,
And lete [his] haukës flee.

332

Toke he there this gentyll knight,
With men of armys stronge,
And led hym to Notyngham warde,
Bounde bothe fote and hande.

333

The sheref sware a full grete othe,
Bi hym that dyed on rode,
He had leuer than an hundred pound
That he had Robyn Hode.

334

This harde the knyghtës wyfe,
A fayr lady and a free;
She set hir on a gode palfrey,
To grenë wode anone rode she.

335

Whanne she cam in the forest,
Vnder the grenë-wode tree,
Fonde she there Robyn Hode,
And al his fayre menë.

336

‘God the sauë, godë Robyn,
And all thy company;
For Our derë Ladyes sake,
A bonë graunte thou me.

337

‘Late neuer my wedded lorde
Shamefully slayne be;
He is fast bowne to Notingham warde,
For the loue of the.’

338

Anone than saide goode Robyn
To that lady so fre,
What man hath your lorde [i-]take?
[OMITTED]

339

[OMITTED]
‘For soth as I the say;
He is nat yet thre mylës
Passed on his way.’

340

Vp than sterte gode Robyn,
As man that had ben wode:
‘Buske you, my mery men,
For hym that dyed on rode.

341

‘And he that this sorowe forsaketh,
By hym that dyed on tre,
Shall he neuer in grenë wode
No lenger dwel with me.’

342

Sone there were gode bowës bent,
Mo than seuen score;
Hedge ne dyche spared they none
That was them before.

343

‘I make myn auowe to God,’ sayde Robyn,
‘The sherif wolde I fayne see;
And if I may hym take,
I-quyte shall it be.’

344

And whan they came to Notingham,
They walked in the strete;
And with the proudë sherif i-wys
Sonë can they mete.

345

‘Abyde, thou proudë sherif,’ he sayde,
‘Abyde, and speke with me;
Of some tidinges of oure kinge
I wolde fayne here of the.

346

‘This seuen yere, by dere worthy God,
Ne yede I this fast on fote;
I make myn auowe to God, thou proudë sherif,
It is nat for thy gode.’

347

Robyn bent a full goode bowe,
An arrowe he drowe at wyll;
He hit so the proudë sherife
Vpon the grounde he lay full still.

348

And or he myght vp aryse,
On his fete to stonde,
He smote of the sherifs hede
With his bright[ë] bronde.

349

‘Lye thou there, thou proudë sherife,
Euyll mote thou cheue!
There myght no man to the truste
The whyles thou were a lyue.’

350

His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes,
That were so sharpe and kene,
And layde on the sheryues men,
And dryued them downe bydene.

351

Robyn stert to that knyght,
And cut a two his bonde,
And toke hym in his hand a bowe,
And bad hym by hym stonde.

352

‘Leue thy hors the behynde,
And lerne for to renne;
Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,
Through myrë, mosse, and fenne.

353

‘Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,
Without ony leasynge,
Tyll that I haue gete vs grace
Of Edwarde, our comly kynge.’

THE VII. FYTTE.

354

The kynge came to Notynghame,
With knyghtës in grete araye,
For to take that gentyll knyght
And Robyn Hode, and yf he may.

355

He asked men of that countrë
After Robyn Hode,
And after that gentyll knyght,
That was so bolde and stout.

356

Whan they had tolde hym the case
Our kynge vnderstode ther tale,
And seased in his honde
The knyghtës londës all.

357

All the passe of Lancasshyre
He went both ferre and nere,
Tyll he came to Plomton Parke;
He faylyd many of his dere.

358

There our kynge was wont to se
Herdës many one,
He coud vnneth fynde one dere,
That bare ony good horne.

359

The kynge was wonder wroth withall,
And swore by the Trynytë,

‘I wolde I had Robyn Hode,
With eyen I myght hym se.

360

‘And he that wolde smyte of the knyghtës hede,
And brynge it to me,
He shall haue the knyghtës londes,
Syr Rycharde at the Le.

361

‘I gyue it hym with my charter,
And sele it [with] my honde,
To haue and holde for euer more,
In all mery Englonde.’

362

Than bespake a fayre olde knyght,
That was treue in his fay:
A, my leegë lorde the kynge,
One worde I shall you say.

363

There is no man in this countrë
May haue the knyghtës londes,
Whyle Robyn Hode may ryde or gone,
And bere a bowe in his hondes,

364

That he ne shall lese his hede,
That is the best ball in his hode:
Giue it no man, my lorde the kynge,
That ye wyll any good.

365

Half a yere dwelled our comly kynge
In Notyngham, and well more;
Coude he not here of Robyn Hode,
In what countrë that he were.

366

But alway went good Robyn
By halke and eke by hyll,
And alway slewe the kyngës dere,
And welt them at his wyll.

367

Than bespake a proude fostere,
That stode by our kyngës kne:
Yf ye wyll se good Robyn,
Ye must do after me.

368

Take fyue of the best knyghtës
That be in your lede,
And walke downe by yon abbay,
And gete you monkës wede.

369

And I wyll be your ledës-man,
And lede you the way,
And or ye come to Notyngham,
Myn hede then dare I lay,

370

That ye shall mete with good Robyn,
On lyue yf that he be;
Or ye come to Notyngham,
With eyen ye shall hym se.

371

Full hast[ë]ly our kynge was dyght,
So were his knyghtës fyue,
Euerych of them in monkës wede,
And hasted them thyder blyve.

372

Our kynge was grete aboue his cole,
A brode hat on his crowne,
Ryght as he were abbot-lyke,
They rode up in-to the towne.

373

Styf botës our kynge had on,
Forsoth as I you say;
He rode syngynge to grenë wode,
The couent was clothed in graye.

374

His male-hors and his gretë somers
Folowed our kynge behynde,
Tyll they came to grenë wode,
A myle vnder the lynde.

375

There they met with good Robyn,
Stondynge on the waye,
And so dyde many a bolde archere,
For soth as I you say.

376

Robyn toke the kyngës hors,
Hastëly in that stede,
And sayd, Syr abbot, by your leue,
A whyle ye must abyde.

377

‘We be yemen of this foreste,
Vnder the grenë-wode tre;
We lyue by our kyngës dere,
[Other shyft haue not wee.]

378

‘And ye haue chyrches and rentës both,
And gold full grete plentë;
Gyue vs some of your spendynge,
For saynt[ë] charytë.’

379

Than bespake our cumly kynge,
Anone than sayd he;
I brought no more to grenë wode
But forty pounde with me.

380

I haue layne at Notyngham
This fourtynyght with our kynge,

And spent I haue full moche good,
On many a grete lordynge.

381

And I haue but forty pounde,
No more than haue I me;
But yf I had an hondred pounde,
I wolde vouch it safe on the.

382

Robyn toke the forty pounde,
And departed it in two partye;
Halfendell he gaue his mery men,
And bad them mery to be.

383

Full curteysly Robyn gan say;
Syr, haue this for your spendyng;
We shall mete another day;
‘Gramercy,’ than sayd our kynge.

384

‘But well the greteth Edwarde, our kynge,
And sent to the his seale,
And byddeth the com to Notyngham,
Both to mete and mele.’

385

He toke out the brodë targe,
And sone he lete hym se;
Robyn coud his courteysy,
And set hym on his kne.

386

‘I loue no man in all the worlde
So well as I do my kynge;
Welcome is my lordës seale;
And, monke, for thy tydynge,

387

‘Syr abbot, for thy tydynges,
To day thou shalt dyne with me,
For the loue of my kynge,
Under my trystell-tre.’

388

Forth he lad our comly kynge,
Full fayre by the honde;
Many a dere there was slayne,
And full fast dyghtande.

389

Robyn toke a full grete horne,
And loude he gan blowe;
Seuen score of wyght yonge men
Came redy on a rowe.

390

All they kneled on theyr kne,
Full fayre before Robyn:
The kynge sayd hym selfe vntyll,
And swore by Saynt Austyn,

391

‘Here is a wonder semely syght;
Me thynketh, by Goddës pyne,
His men are more at his byddynge
Then my men be at myn.’

392

Full hast[ë]ly was theyr dyner idyght,
And therto gan they gone;
They serued our kynge with al theyr myght,
Both Robyn and Lytell Johan.

393

Anone before our kynge was set
The fattë venyson,
The good whyte brede, the good rede wyne,
And therto the fyne ale and browne.

394

‘Make good chere,’ said Robyn,
‘Abbot, for charytë;
And for this ylkë tydynge,
Blyssed mote thou be.

395

‘Now shalte thou se what lyfe we lede,
Or thou hens wende;
Than thou may enfourme our kynge,
Whan ye togyder lende.’

396

Up they stertë all in hast,
Theyr bowës were smartly bent;
Our kynge was neuer so sore agast,
He wende to haue be shente.

397

Two yerdës there were vp set,
Thereto gan they gange;
By fyfty pase, our kynge sayd,
The merkës were to longe.

398

On euery syde a rose-garlonde,
They shot vnder the lyne:
‘Who so fayleth of the rose-garlonde,’ sayd Robyn,
‘His takyll he shall tyne,

399

‘And yelde it to his mayster,
Be it neuer so fyne;
For no man wyll I spare,
So drynke I ale or wyne:

400

‘And bere a buffet on his hede,
I-wys ryght all bare:’
And all that fell in Robyns lote,
He smote them wonder sare.

401

Twyse Robyn shot aboute,
And euer he cleued the wande,

And so dyde good Gylberte
With the Whytë Hande.

402

Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,
For nothynge wolde they spare;
When they fayled of the garlonde,
Robyn smote them full sore.

403

At the last shot that Robyn shot,
For all his frendës fare,
Yet he fayled of the garlonde
Thre fyngers and mare.

404

Than bespake good Gylberte,
And thus he gan say;
‘Mayster,’ he sayd, ‘your takyll is lost,
Stande forth and take your pay.’

405

‘If it be so,’ sayd Robyn,
‘That may no better be,
Syr abbot, I delyuer the myn arowe,
I pray the, syr, serue thou me.’

406

‘It falleth not for myn ordre,’ sayd our kynge,
‘Robyn, by thy leue,
For to smyte no good yeman,
For doute I sholde hym greue.’

407

‘Smyte on boldely,’ sayd Robyn,
‘I giue the largë leue:’
Anone our kynge, with that worde,
He folde vp his sleue,

408

And sych a buffet he gaue Robyn,
To grounde he yede full nere:
‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Thou arte a stalworthe frere.

409

‘There is pith in thyn arme,’ sayd Robyn,
‘I trowe thou canst well shete:’
Thus our kynge and Robyn Hode
Togeder gan they mete.

410

Robyn behelde our comly kynge
Wystly in the face,
So dyde Syr Rycharde at the Le,
And kneled downe in that place.

411

And so dyde all the wylde outlawes,
Whan they se them knele:
‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,
Now I knowe you well.

412

‘Mercy then, Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,
‘Vnder your trystyll-tre,
Of thy goodnesse and thy grace,
For my men and me!’

413

‘Yes, for God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘And also God me saue,
I askë mercy, my lorde the kynge,
And for my men I craue.’

414

‘Yes, for God,’ than sayd our kynge,
‘And therto sent I me,
With that thou leue the grenë wode,
And all thy company;

415

‘And come home, syr, to my courte,
And there dwell with me.’
‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘And ryght so shall it be.

416

‘I wyll come to your courte,
Your seruyse for to se,
And brynge with me of my men
Seuen score and thre.

417

‘But me lykë well your seruyse,
I [wyll] come agayne full soone,
And shote at the donnë dere,
As I am wonte to done.’

THE VIII. FYTTE.

418

‘Haste thou ony grenë cloth,’ sayd our kynge,
‘That thou wylte sell nowe to me?’
‘Ye, for God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Thyrty yerdës and thre.’

419

‘Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,
‘Now pray I the,
Sell me some of that cloth,
To me and my meynë.’

420

‘Yes, for God,’ then sayd Robyn,
‘Or elles I were a fole;
Another day ye wyll me clothe,
I trowe, ayenst the Yole.’

421

The kynge kest of his colë then,
A grene garment he dyde on,
And euery knyght also, i-wys,
Another had full sone.

422

Whan they were clothed in Lyncolne grene,
They keste away theyr graye;
‘Now we shall to Notyngham,’
All thus our kynge gan say.

423

They bente theyr bowes, and forth they went,
Shotynge all in-fere,
Towarde the towne of Notyngham,
Outlawes as they were.

424

Our kynge and Robyn rode togyder,
For soth as I you say,
And they shote plucke-buffet,
As they went by the way.

425

And many a buffet our kynge wan
Of Robyn Hode that day,
And nothynge spared good Robyn
Our kynge in his pay.

426

‘So God me helpë,’ sayd our kynge,
‘Thy game is nought to lere;
I sholde not get a shote of the,
Though I shote all this yere.’

427

All the people of Notyngham
They stode and behelde;
They sawe nothynge but mantels of grene
That couered all the felde.

428

Than euery man to other gan say,
I drede our kynge be slone;
Comë Robyn Hode to the towne, i-wys
On lyue he lefte neuer one.’

429

Full hast[ë]ly they began to fle,
Both yemen and knaues,
And olde wyues that myght euyll goo,
They hypped on theyr staues.

430

The kynge l[o]ughe full fast,
And commaunded theym agayne;
When they se our comly kynge,
I-wys they were full fayne.

431

They ete and dranke, and made them glad,
And sange with notës hye;
Than bespake our comly kynge
To Syr Rycharde at the Lee.

432

He gaue hym there his londe agayne,
A good man he bad hym be;
Robyn thanked our comly kynge,
And set hym on his kne.

433

Had Robyn dwelled in the kyngës courte
But twelue monethes and thre,
That [he had] spent an hondred pounde,
And all his mennes fe.

434

In euery place where Robyn came
Euer more he layde downe,
Both for knyghtës and for squyres,
To gete hym grete renowne.

435

By than the yere was all agone
He had no man but twayne,
Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,
With hym all for to gone.

436

Robyn sawe yonge men shote
Full fayre vpon a day;
‘Alas!’ than sayd good Robyn,
‘My welthe is went away.

437

‘Somtyme I was an archere good,
A styffe and eke a stronge;
I was compted the best archere
That was in mery Englonde.

438

‘Alas!’ then sayd good Robyn,
‘Alas and well a woo!
Yf I dwele lenger with the kynge,
Sorowe wyll me sloo.’

439

Forth than went Robyn Hode
Tyll he came to our kynge:
‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,
Graunte me myn askynge.

440

‘I made a chapell in Bernysdale,
That semely is to se,
It is of Mary Magdaleyne,
And thereto wolde I be.

441

‘I myght neuer in this seuen nyght
No tyme to slepe ne wynke,
Nother all these seuen dayes
Nother ete ne drynke.

442

‘Me longeth sore to Bernysdale,
I may not be therfro;
Barefote and wolwarde I haue hyght
Thyder for to go.’

443

‘Yf it be so,’ than sayd our kynge,
‘It may no better be,
Seuen nyght I gyue the leue,
No lengre, to dwell fro me.’

444

‘Gramercy, lorde,’ then sayd Robyn,
And set hym on his kne;
He toke his leuë full courteysly,
To grenë wode then went he.

445

Whan he came to grenë wode,
In a mery mornynge,
There he herde the notës small
Of byrdës mery syngynge.

446

‘It is ferre gone,’ sayd Robyn,
‘That I was last here;
Me lyste a lytell for to shote
At the donnë dere.’

447

Robyn slewe a full grete harte;
His horne than gan he blow,
That all the outlawes of that forest
That horne coud they knowe,

448

And gadred them togyder,
In a lytell throwe.
Seuen score of wyght yonge men
Came redy on a rowe,

449

And fayre dyde of theyr hodes,
And set them on theyr kne:
‘Welcome,’ they sayd, ‘our [derë] mayster,
Under this grenë-wode tre.’

450

Robyn dwelled in grenë wode
Twenty yere and two;
For all drede of Edwarde our kynge,
Agayne wolde he not goo.

451

Yet he was begyled, i-wys,
Through a wycked woman,
The pryoresse of Kyrkësly,
That nye was of hys kynne:

452

For the loue of a knyght,
Syr Roger of Donkesly,
That was her ownë speciall;
Full euyll motë they the!

453

They toke togyder theyr counsell
Robyn Hode for to sle,
And how they myght best do that dede,
His banis for to be.

454

Than bespake good Robyn,
In place where as he stode,
‘To morow I muste to Kyrke[s]ly,
Craftely to be leten blode.’

455

Syr Roger of Donkestere,
By the pryoresse he lay,
And there they betrayed good Robyn Hode,
Through theyr falsë playe.

456

Cryst haue mercy on his soule,
That dyed on the rode!
For he was a good outlawe,
And dyde pore men moch god.

118
ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE

Guye of Gisborne

ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE

[_]

Percy MS., p. 262; Hales and Furnivall, II, 227.

1

When shawes beene sheene, and shradds full fayre,
And leeues both large and longe,
Itt is merrry, walking in the fayre fforrest,
To heare the small birds songe.

2

The woodweele sang, and wold not cease,
Amongst the leaues a lyne:
And it is by two wight yeomen,
By deare God, that I meane.

[OMITTED]

3

‘Me thought they did mee beate and binde,
And tooke my bow mee froe;
If I bee Robin a-liue in this lande,
I'le be wrocken on both them towe.’

4

‘Sweauens are swift, master,’ quoth Iohn,
‘As the wind that blowes ore a hill;
Ffor if itt be neuer soe lowde this night,
To-morrow it may be still.’

5

‘Buske yee, bowne yee, my merry men all,
Ffor Iohn shall goe with mee;
For I'le goe seeke yond wight yeomen
In greenwood where the bee.’

6

Thé cast on their gowne of greene,
A shooting gone are they,
Vntill they came to the merry greenwood,
Where they had gladdest bee;
There were the ware of [a] wight yeoman,
His body leaned to a tree.

7

A sword and a dagger he wore by his side,
Had beene many a mans bane,
And he was cladd in his capull-hyde,
Topp, and tayle, and mayne.

8

‘Stand you still, master,’ quoth Litle Iohn,
‘Vnder this trusty tree,
And I will goe to yond wight yeoman,
To know his meaning trulye.’

9

‘A, Iohn, by me thou setts noe store,
And that's a ffarley thinge;
How offt send I my men beffore,
And tarry my-selfe behinde?

10

‘It is noe cunning a knaue to ken,
And a man but heare him speake;
And itt were not for bursting of my bowe,
Iohn, I wold thy head breake.’

11

But often words they breeden bale,
That parted Robin and Iohn;
Iohn is gone to Barn[e]sdale,
The gates he knowes eche one.

12

And when hee came to Barnesdale,
Great heauinesse there hee hadd;
He ffound two of his fellowes
Were slaine both in a slade,

13

And Scarlett a ffoote flyinge was,
Ouer stockes and stone,
For the sheriffe with seuen score men
Fast after him is gone.

14

‘Yett one shoote I'le shoote,’ sayes Litle Iohn,
‘With Crist his might and mayne;
I'le make yond fellow that flyes soe fast
To be both glad and ffaine.

15

Iohn bent vp a good veiwe bow,
And ffetteled him to shoote;
The bow was made of a tender boughe,
And fell downe to his foote.

16

‘Woe worth thee, wicked wood,’ sayd Litle Iohn,
‘That ere thou grew on a tree!
Ffor this day thou art my bale,
My boote when thou shold bee!’

17

This shoote it was but looselye shott,
The arrowe flew in vaine,
And it mett one of the sheriffes men;
Good William a Trent was slaine.

18

It had beene better for William a Trent
To hange vpon a gallowe
Then for to lye in the greenwoode,
There slaine with an arrowe.

19

And it is sayd, when men be mett,
Six can doe more then three:
And they haue tane Litle Iohn,
And bound him ffast to a tree.

20

‘Thou shalt be drawen by dale and downe,’ quoth the sheriffe,
‘And hanged hye on a hill:’
‘But thou may ffayle,’ quoth Litle Iohn,
‘If itt be Christs owne will.’

21

Let vs leaue talking of Litle Iohn,
For hee is bound fast to a tree,
And talke of Guy and Robin Hood,
In the green woode where they bee.

22

How these two yeomen together they mett,
Vnder the leaues of lyne,
To see what marchandise they made
Euen at that same time.

23

‘Good morrow, good fellow,’ quoth Sir Guy;
‘Good morrow, good ffellow,’ quoth hee;
‘Methinkes by this bow thou beares in thy hand,
A good archer thou seems to bee.’

24

‘I am wilfull of my way,’ quoth Sir Guye,
‘And of my morning tyde:’
‘I'le lead thee through the wood,’ quoth Robin,
‘Good ffellow, I'le be thy guide.’

25

‘I seeke an outlaw,’ quoth Sir Guye,
‘Men call him Robin Hood;
I had rather meet with him vpon a day
Then forty pound of golde.’

26

‘If you tow mett, itt wold be seene whether were better
Afore yee did part awaye;
Let vs some other pastime find,
Good ffellow, I thee pray.

27

‘Let vs some other masteryes make,
And wee will walke in the woods euen;

Wee may chance mee[t] with Robin Hoode
Att some vnsett steven.’

28

They cutt them downe the summer shroggs
Which grew both vnder a bryar,
And sett them three score rood in twinn,
To shoote the prickes full neare.

29

‘Leade on, good ffellow,’ sayd Sir Guye,
‘Lead on, I doe bidd thee:’
‘Nay, by my faith,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘The leader thou shalt bee.’

30

The first good shoot that Robin ledd
Did not shoote an inch the pricke ffroe;
Guy was an archer good enoughe,
But he cold neere shoote soe.

31

The second shoote Sir Guy shott,
He shott within the garlande;
But Robin Hoode shott it better then hee,
For he cloue the good pricke-wande.

32

‘Gods blessing on thy heart!’ sayes Guye,
‘Goode ffellow, thy shooting is goode;
For an thy hart be as good as thy hands,
Thou were better then Robin Hood.

33

‘Tell me thy name, good ffellow,’ quoth Guy,
‘Vnder the leaues of lyne:’
‘Nay, by my faith,’ quoth good Robin,
‘Till thou haue told me thine.’

34

‘I dwell by dale and downe,’ quoth Guye,
‘And I haue done many a curst turne;
And he that calles me by my right name
Calles me Guye of good Gysborne.’

35

‘My dwelling is in the wood,’ sayes Robin;
‘By thee I set right nought;
My name is Robin Hood of Barnesdale,
A ffellow thou has long sought.’

36

He that had neither beene a kithe nor kin
Might haue seene a full fayre sight,
To see how together these yeomen went,
With blades both browne and bright.

37

To haue seene how these yeomen together foug[ht],
Two howers of a summers day;
Itt was neither Guy nor Robin Hood
That ffettled them to flye away.

38

Robin was reacheles on a roote,
And stumbled at that tyde,
And Guy was quicke and nimble with-all,
And hitt him ore the left side.

39

‘Ah, deere Lady!’ sayd Robin Hoode,
‘Thou art both mother and may!
I thinke it was neuer mans destinye
To dye before his day.’

40

Robin thought on Our Lady deere,
And soone leapt vp againe,
And thus he came with an awkwarde stroke;
Good Sir Guy hee has slayne.

41

He tooke Sir Guys head by the hayre,
And sticked itt on his bowes end:
‘Thou hast beene traytor all thy liffe,
Which thing must haue an ende.’

42

Robin pulled forth an Irish kniffe,
And nicked Sir Guy in the fface,
That hee was neuer on a woman borne
Cold tell who Sir Guye was.

43

Saies, Lye there, lye there, good Sir Guye,
And with me be not wrothe;
If thou haue had the worse stroakes at my hand,
Thou shalt haue the better cloathe.

44

Robin did off his gowne of greene,
Sir Guye hee did it throwe;
And hee put on that capull-hyde,
That cladd him topp to toe.

45

‘The bowe, the arrowes, and litle horne,
And with me now I'le beare;
Ffor now I will goe to Barn[e]sdale,
To see how my men doe ffare.’

46

Robin sett Guyes horne to his mouth,
A lowd blast in it he did blow;
That beheard the sheriffe of Nottingham,
As he leaned vnder a lowe.

47

‘Hearken! hearken!’ sayd the sheriffe,
‘I heard noe tydings but good;
For yonder I heare Sir Guyes horne blowe,
For he hath slaine Robin Hoode.

48

‘For yonder I heare Sir Guyes horne blow,
Itt blowes soe well in tyde,

For yonder comes that wighty yeoman,
Cladd in his capull-hyde.

49

‘Come hither, thou good Sir Guy,
Aske of mee what thou wilt haue:’
‘I'le none of thy gold,’ sayes Robin Hood,
‘Nor I'le none of itt haue.

50

‘But now I haue slaine the master,’ he sayd,
‘Let me goe strike the knaue;
This is all the reward I aske,
Nor noe other will I haue.’

51

‘Thou art a madman,’ said the shiriffe,
‘Thou sholdest haue had a knights ffee;
Seeing thy asking [hath] beene soe badd,
Well granted it shall be.’

52

But Litle Iohn heard his master speake,
Well he knew that was his steuen;
‘Now shall I be loset,’ quoth Litle Iohn,
‘With Christs might in heauen.’

53

But Robin hee hyed him towards Litle Iohn,
Hee thought hee wold loose him beliue;
The sheriffe and all his companye
Fast after him did driue.

54

‘Stand abacke! stand abacke!’ sayd Robin;
‘Why draw you mee soe neere?
Itt was neuer the vse in our countrye
One's shrift another shold heere.’

55

But Robin pulled forth an Irysh kniffe,
And losed Iohn hand and ffoote,
And gaue him Sir Guyes bow in his hand,
And bade it be his boote.

56

But Iohn tooke Guyes bow in his hand —
His arrowes were rawstye by the roote —;
The sherriffe saw Litle Iohn draw a bow
And ffettle him to shoote.

57

Towards his house in Nottingam
He ffled full fast away,
And soe did all his companye,
Not one behind did stay.

58

But he cold neither soe fast goe,
Nor away soe fast runn,
But Litle Iohn, with an arrow broade,
Did cleaue his heart in twinn.

119
ROBIN HOOD AND THE MONK

ROBIN HOOD AND THE MONK

[_]

a. MS. of about 1450: Cambridge University Library, Ff. 5. 48, fol. 128 b. b. One leaf of a MS. of the same age, containing stanzas 69-72, 77-80: Bagford Ballads, vol. i, art. 6, British Museum.

1

In somer, when þe shawes be sheyne,
And leves be large and long,
Hit is full mery in feyre foreste
To here þe foulys song:

2

To se þe dere draw to þe dale,
And leve þe hilles hee,
And shadow hem in þe levës grene,
Vnder the grene-wode tre.

3

Hit befel on Whitsontide,
Erly in a May mornyng,
The son vp feyre can shyne,
And the briddis mery can syng.

4

‘This is a mery mornyng,’ seid Litull John,
‘Be hym þat dyed on tre;
A more mery man þen I am one
Lyves not in Cristiantë.

5

‘Pluk vp þi hert, my dere mayster,’
Litull John can sey,
‘And thynk hit is a full fayre tyme
In a mornyng of May.’

6

‘Ȝe, on thyng greves me,’ seid Robyn,
‘And does my hert mych woo;
Þat I may not no solem day
To mas nor matyns goo.

7

‘Hit is a fourtnet and more,’ seid he,
‘Syn I my sauyour see;
To day wil I to Notyngham,’ seid Robyn,
‘With þe myght of mylde Marye.’

8

Than spake Moche, þe mylner sun,
Euer more wel hym betyde!
‘Take twelue of þi wyght ȝemen,
Well weppynd, be þi side.
Such on wolde þi selfe slon,
Þat twelue dar not abyde.’

9

‘Of all my mery men,’ seid Robyn,
‘Be my feith I wil non haue,
But Litull John shall beyre my bow,
Til þat me list to drawe.’

10

‘Þou shall beyre þin own,’ seid Litull Jon,
‘Maister, and I wyl beyre myne,
And we well shete a peny,’ seid Litull Jon,
‘Vnder þe grene-wode lyne.’

11

‘I wil not shete a peny,’ seyd Robyn Hode,
‘In feith, Litull John, with the,
But euer for on as þou shetis,’ seide Robyn,
‘In feith I holde þe thre.’

12

Thus shet þei forth, þese ȝemen too,
Bothe at buske and brome,
Til Litull John wan of his maister
Fiue shillings to hose and shone.

13

A ferly strife fel þem betwene,
As they went bi the wey;
Litull John seid he had won fiue shillings,
And Robyn Hode seid schortly nay.

14

With þat Robyn Hode lyed Litul Jon,
And smote hym with his hande;
Litul Jon waxed wroth þerwith,
And pulled out his bright bronde.

15

‘Were þou not my maister,’ seid Litull John,
‘Þou shuldis by hit ful sore;
Get þe a man wher þou w[ilt],
For þou getis me no more.’

16

Þen Robyn goes to Notyngham,
Hym selfe mornyng allone,
And Litull John to mery Scherwode,
The pathes he knew ilkone.

17

Whan Robyn came to Notyngham,
Sertenly withouten layn,
He prayed to God and myld Mary
To bryng hym out saue agayn.

18

He gos in to Seynt Mary chirch,
And kneled down before the rode;
Alle þat euer were þe church within
Beheld wel Robyn Hode.

19

Beside hym stod a gret-hedid munke,
I pray to God woo he be!
Fful sone he knew gode Robyn,
As sone as he hym se.

20

Out at þe durre he ran,
Fful sone and anon;
Alle þe ȝatis of Notyngham
He made to be sparred euerychon.

21

‘Rise vp,’ he seid, ‘þou prowde schereff,
Buske þe and make þe bowne;

I haue spyed þe kynggis felon,
Ffor sothe he is in þis town.

22

‘I haue spyed þe false felon,
As he stondis at his masse;
Hit is long of þe,’ seide þe munke,
‘And euer he fro vs passe.

23

‘Þis traytur name is Robyn Hode,
Vnder þe grene-wode lynde;
He robbyt me onys of a hundred pound,
Hit shalle neuer out of my mynde.’

24

Vp þen rose þis prowde shereff,
And radly made hym ȝare;
Many was þe moder son
To þe kyrk with hym can fare.

25

In at þe durres þei throly thrast,
With staves ful gode wone;
‘Alas, alas!’ seid Robyn Hode,
‘Now mysse I Litull John.’

26

But Robyn toke out a too-hond sworde,
Þat hangit down be his kne;
Þer as þe schereff and his men stode thyckust,
Thedurwarde wolde he.

27

Thryes thorowout þem he ran þen,
For soþe as I yow sey,
And woundyt mony a moder son,
And twelue he slew þat day.

28

His sworde vpon þe schireff hed
Sertanly he brake in too;
‘Þe smyth þat þe made,’ seid Robyn,
‘I pray to God wyrke hym woo!

29

‘Ffor now am I weppynlesse,’ seid Robyn,
‘Alasse! agayn my wylle;
But if I may fle þese traytors fro,
I wot þei wil me kyll.’

30

Robyn in to the churchë ran,
Throout hem euerilkon,

[OMITTED]

31

Sum fel in swonyng as þei were dede,
And lay stil as any stone;
Non of theym were in her mynde
But only Litull Jon.

32

‘Let be your rule,’ seid Litull Jon,
‘Ffor his luf þat dyed on tre,
Ȝe þat shulde be duȝty men;
Het is gret shame to se.

33

‘Oure maister has bene hard bystode
And ȝet scapyd away;
Pluk vp your hertis, and leve þis mone,
And harkyn what I shal say.

34

‘He has seruyd Oure Lady many a day,
And ȝet wil, securly;
Þerfor I trust in hir specialy
No wyckud deth shal he dye.

35

‘Þerfor be glad,’ seid Litul John,
‘And let þis mournyng be;
And I shal be þe munkis gyde,
With þe myght of mylde Mary.

36

[OMITTED]
‘We will go but we too;
And I mete hym,’ seid Litul John,
[OMITTED]

37

‘Loke þat ȝe kepe wel owre tristil-tre,
Vnder þe levys smale,
And spare non of this venyson,
Þat gose in thys vale.’

38

Fforþe þen went these ȝemen too,
Litul John and Moche on fere,
And lokid on Moch emys hows,
Þe hye way lay full nere.

39

Litul John stode at a wyndow in þe mornyng,
And lokid forþ at a stage;
He was war wher þe munke came ridyng,
And with hym a litul page.

40

‘Be my feith,’ seid Litul John to Moch,
‘I can þe tel tithyngus gode;
I se wher þe munke cumys rydyng,
I know hym be his wyde hode.’

41

They went in to the way, þese ȝemen boþe,
As curtes men and hende;
Þei spyrred tithyngus at þe munke,
As they hade bene his frende.

42

‘Ffro whens come ȝe?’ seid Litull Jon,
‘Tel vs tithyngus, I yow pray,

Off a false owtlay, [callid Robyn Hode,]
Was takyn ȝisterday.

43

‘He robbyt me and my felowes boþe
Of twenti marke in serten;
If þat false owtlay be takyn,
Ffor soþe we wolde be fayn.’

44

‘So did he me,’ seid þe munke,
‘Of a hundred pound and more;
I layde furst hande hym apon,
Ȝe may thonke me þerfore.’

45

‘I pray God thanke you,’ seid Litull John,
‘And we wil when we may;
We wil go with you, with your leve,
And bryng yow on your way.

46

‘Ffor Robyn Hode hase many a wilde felow,
I tell you in certen;
If þei wist ȝe rode þis way,
In feith ȝe shulde be slayn.’

47

As þei went talking be þe way,
The munke and Litull John,
John toke þe munkis horse be þe hede,
Fful sone and anon.

48

Johne toke þe munkis horse be þe hed,
Ffor soþe as I yow say;
So did Much þe litull page,
Ffor he shulde not scape away.

49

Be þe golett of þe hode
John pulled þe munke down;
John was nothyng of hym agast,
He lete hym falle on his crown.

50

Litull John was so[re] agrevyd,
And drew owt his swerde in hye;
This munke saw he shulde be ded,
Lowd mercy can he crye.

51

‘He was my maister,’ seid Litull John,
‘Þat þou hase browȝt in bale;
Shalle þou neuer cum at our kyng,
Ffor to telle hym tale.’

52

John smote of þe munkis hed,
No longer wolde he dwell;
So did Moch þe litull page,
Ffor ferd lest he wolde tell.

53

Þer þei beryed hem boþe,
In nouþer mosse nor lyng,
And Litull John and Much infere
Bare þe letturs to oure kyng.

54

[OMITTED]
He knelid down vpon his kne:
‘God ȝow saue, my lege lorde,
Ihesus yow saue and se!

55

‘God yow saue, my lege kyng!’
To speke John was full bolde;
He gaf hym þe letturs in his hond,
The kyng did hit vnfold.

56

Þe kyng red þe letturs anon,
And seid, So mot I the,
Þer was neuer ȝoman in mery Inglond
I longut so sore to se.

57

‘Wher is þe munke þat þese shuld haue brouȝt?’
Oure kyng can say:
‘Be my trouth,’ seid Litull John,
‘He dyed after þe way.’

58

Þe kyng gaf Moch and Litul Jon
Twenti pound in sertan,
And made þeim ȝemen of þe crown,
And bade þeim go agayn.

59

He gaf John þe seel in hand,
The sheref for to bere,
To bryng Robyn hym to,
And no man do hym dere.

60

John toke his leve at oure kyng,
Þe sothe as I yow say;
Þe next way to Notyngham
To take, he ȝede þe way.

61

Whan John came to Notyngham
The ȝatis were sparred ychon;
John callid vp þe porter,
He answerid sone anon.

62

‘What is þe cause,’ seid Litul Jon,
‘Þou sparris þe ȝates so fast?’
‘Because of Robyn Hode,’ seid [þe] porter,
‘In depe prison is cast.

63

‘John and Moch and Wyll Scathlok,
Ffor sothe as I yow say,

100

Þei slew oure men vpon our wallis,
And sawten vs euery day.’

64

Litull John spyrred after þe schereff,
And sone he hym fonde;
He oppyned þe kyngus priue seell,
And gaf hym in his honde.

65

Whan þe scheref saw þe kyngus seell,
He did of his hode anon:
‘Wher is þe munke þat bare þe letturs?’
He seid to Litull John.

66

‘He is so fayn of hym,’ seid Litul John,
‘Ffor soþe as I yow say,
He has made hym abot of Westmynster,
A lorde of þat abbay.’

67

The scheref made John gode chere,
And gaf hym wyne of the best;
At nyȝt þei went to her bedde,
And euery man to his rest.

68

When þe scheref was on slepe,
Dronken of wyne and ale,
Litul John and Moch for soþe
Toke þe way vnto þe jale.

69

Litul John callid vp þe jayler,
And bade hym rise anon;
He seyd Robyn Hode had brokyn prison,
And out of hit was gon.

70

The porter rose anon sertan,
As sone as he herd John calle;
Litul John was redy with a swerd,
And bare hym to þe walle.

71

‘Now wil I be porter,’ seid Litul John,
‘And take þe keyes in honde:’
He toke þe way to Robyn Hode,
And sone he hym vnbonde.

72

He gaf hym a gode swerd in his hond,
His hed [ther] with for to kepe,
And ther as þe walle was lowyst
Anon down can þei lepe.

73

Be þat þe cok began to crow,
The day began to spryng;
The scheref fond þe jaylier ded,
The comyn bell made he ryng.

74

He made a crye thoroout al þe tow[n],
Wheder he be ȝoman or knave,
Þat cowþe bryng hym Robyn Hode,
His warison he shuld haue.

75

‘Ffor I dar neuer,’ said þe scheref,
‘Cum before oure kyng;
Ffor if I do, I wot serten
Ffor soþe he wil me heng.’

76

The scheref made to seke Notyngham,
Bothe be strete and stye,
And Robyn was in mery Scherwode,
As liȝt as lef on lynde.

77

Then bespake gode Litull John,
To Robyn Hode can he say,
I haue done þe a gode turne for an euyll,
Quyte þe whan þou may.

78

‘I haue done þe a gode turne,’ seid Litull John,
‘Ffor sothe as I yow say;
I haue brouȝt þe vnder grene-wode lyne;
Ffare wel, and haue gode day.’

79

‘Nay, be my trouth,’ seid Robyn Hode,
‘So shall hit neuer be;
I make þe maister,’ seid Robyn Hode,
‘Off alle my men and me.’

80

‘Nay, be my trouth,’ seid Litull John,
‘So shalle hit neuer be;
But lat me be a felow,’ seid Litull John,
‘No noder kepe I be.’

81

Thus John gate Robyn Hod out of prison,
Sertan withoutyn layn;
Whan his men saw hym hol and sounde,
Ffor sothe they were full fayne.

82

They filled in wyne, and made hem glad,
Vnder þe levys smale,
And ȝete pastes of venyson,
Þat gode was with ale.

83

Than worde came to oure kyng
How Robyn Hode was gon,
And how þe scheref of Notyngham
Durst neuer loke hym vpon.

84

Then bespake oure cumly kyng,
In an angur hye:

101

Litull John hase begyled þe schereff,
In faith so hase he me.

85

Litul John has begyled vs bothe,
And þat full wel I se;
Or ellis þe schereff of Notyngham
Hye hongut shulde he be.

86

‘I made hem ȝemen of þe crowne,
And gaf hem fee with my hond;
I gaf hem grith,’ seid oure kyng,
‘Thorowout all mery Inglond.

87

‘I gaf theym grith,’ þen seid oure kyng;
‘I say, so mot I the,
Ffor sothe soch a ȝeman as he is on
In all Inglond ar not thre.

88

‘He is trew to his maister,’ seid our kyng;
‘I sey, be swete Seynt John,
He louys better Robyn Hode
Then he dose vs ychon.

89

‘Robyn Hode is euer bond to hym,
Bothe in strete and stalle;
Speke no more of this mater,’ seid oure kyng,
‘But John has begyled vs alle.’

90

Thus endys the talkyng of the munke
And Robyn Hode i-wysse;
God, þat is euer a crowned kyng,
Bryng vs all to his blisse!

102

120
ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH

104

Robin Hoode his Death

ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH—A

[_]

Percy MS., p. 21; Hales and Furnivall, I, 53.

1

‘I will neuer eate nor drinke,’ Robin Hood said,
‘Nor meate will doo me noe good,
Till I haue beene att merry Churchlees,
My vaines for to let blood.’

2

‘That I reade not,’ said Will Scarllett,
‘Master, by the assente of me,
Without halfe a hundred of your best bowmen
You take to goe with yee.

3

‘For there a good yeoman doth abide
Will be sure to quarrell with thee,
And if thou haue need of vs, master,
In faith we will not flee.’

4

‘And thou be feard, thou William Scarlett,
Att home I read thee bee:’
‘And you be wrothe, my deare master,
You shall neuer heare more of mee.’

[OMITTED]

5

‘For there shall noe man with me goe,
Nor man with mee ryde,
And Litle Iohn shall be my man,
And beare my benbow by my side.’

6

‘You'st beare your bowe, master, your selfe,
And shoote for a peny with mee:’
‘To that I doe assent,’ Robin Hood sayd,
‘And soe, Iohn, lett it bee.’

7

They two bolde children shotten together,
All day theire selfe in ranke,
Vntill they came to blacke water,
And over it laid a planke.

8

Vpon it there kneeled an old woman,
Was banning Robin Hoode;
‘Why dost thou bann Robin Hoode?’ said Robin,
[OMITTED]

[OMITTED]

105

9

[OMITTED]
‘To giue to Robin Hoode;
Wee weepen for his deare body,
That this day must be lett bloode.’

10

‘The dame prior is my aunts daughter,
And nie vnto my kinne;
I know shee wold me noe harme this day,
For all the world to winne.’

11

Forth then shotten these children two,
And they did neuer lin,
Vntill they came to merry Churchlees,
To merry Churchlee[s] with-in.

12

And when they came to merry Churchlees,
They knoced vpon a pin;
Vpp then rose dame prioresse,
And lett good Robin in.

13

Then Robin gaue to dame prioresse
Twenty pound in gold,
And bad her spend while that wold last,
And shee shold haue more when shee wold.

14

And downe then came dame prioresse,
Downe she came in that ilke,
With a pair off blood-irons in her hands,
Were wrapped all in silke.

15

‘Sett a chaffing-dish to the fyer,’ said dame prioresse,
‘And stripp thou vp thy sleeue:’
I hold him but an vnwise man
That will noe warning leeve.

16

Shee laid the blood-irons to Robin Hoods vaine,
Alacke, the more pitye!
And pearct the vaine, and let out the bloode,
That full red was to see.

17

And first it bled, the thicke, thicke bloode,
And afterwards the thinne,
And well then wist good Robin Hoode
Treason there was within.

18

‘What cheere my master?’ said Litle Iohn;
‘In faith, Iohn, litle goode;’
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

[OMITTED]

19

‘I haue upon a gowne of greene,
Is cut short by my knee,
And in my hand a bright browne brand
That will well bite of thee.’

20

But forth then of a shot-windowe
Good Robin Hood he could glide;
Red Roger, with a grounden glaue,
Thrust him through the milke-white side.

21

But Robin was light and nimble of foote,
And thought to abate his pride,
Ffor betwixt his head and his shoulders
He made a wound full wide.

22

Says, Ly there, ly there, Red Roger,
The doggs they must thee eate;
‘For I may haue my houzle,’ he said,
‘For I may both goe and speake.

23

‘Now giue me mood,’ Robin said to Litle Iohn,
‘Giue me mood with thy hand;
I trust to God in heauen soe hye
My houzle will me bestand.’

24

‘Now giue me leaue, giue me leaue, master,’ he said,
‘For Christs loue giue leaue to me,
To set a fier within this hall,
And to burne vp all Churchlee.’

25

‘That I reade not,’ said Robin Hoode then,
‘Litle Iohn, for it may not be;
If I shold doe any widow hurt, at my latter end,
God,’ he said, ‘wold blame me;

26

‘But take me vpon thy backe, Litle Iohn,
And beare me to yonder streete,
And there make me a full fayre graue,
Of grauell and of greete.

27

‘And sett my bright sword at my head,
Mine arrowes at my feete,
And lay my vew-bow by my side,
My met-yard wi [OMITTED]

106

Robin Hood's Death and Burial

ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH—B

[_]

a. The English Archer, Paisley, printed by John Neilson for George Caldwell, Bookseller, near the Cross, 1786, p. 81, No 24. b. The English Archer, York, printed by N. Nickson, in Feasegate, n. d., p. 70.

1

When Robin Hood and Little John
Down a down a down a down
Went oer yon bank of broom,
Said Robin Hood bold to Little John,
We have shot for many a pound.
Hey, etc.

2

But I am not able to shoot one shot more,
My broad arrows will not flee;
But I have a cousin lives down below,
Please God, she will bleed me.

3

Now Robin he is to fair Kirkly gone,
As fast as he can win;
But before he came there, as we do hear,
He was taken very ill.

4

And when he came to fair Kirkly-hall,
He knockd all at the ring,
But none was so ready as his cousin herself
For to let bold Robin in.

5

‘Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin,’ she said,
‘And drink some beer with me?’
‘No, I will neither eat nor drink,
Till I am blooded by thee.’

6

‘Well, I have a room, cousin Robin,’ she said,
‘Which you did never see,
And if you please to walk therein,
You blooded by me shall be.’

7

She took him by the lily-white hand,
And led him to a private room,
And there she blooded bold Robin Hood,
While one drop of blood would run down.

8

She blooded him in a vein of the arm,
And locked him up in the room;
Then did he bleed all the live-long day,
Until the next day at noon.

9

He then bethought him of a casement there,
Thinking for to get down;
But was so weak he could not leap,
He could not get him down.

10

He then bethought him of his bugle-horn,
Which hung low down to his knee;
He set his horn unto his mouth,
And blew out weak blasts three.

11

Then Little John, when hearing him,
As he sat under a tree,
‘I fear my master is now near dead,
He blows so wearily.’

12

Then Little John to fair Kirkly is gone,
As fast as he can dree;
But when he came to Kirkly-hall,
He broke locks two or three:

13

Until he came bold Robin to see,
Then he fell on his knee;
‘A boon, a boon,’ cries Little John,
‘Master, I beg of thee.’

14

‘What is that boon,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Little John, [thou] begs of me?’
‘It is to burn fair Kirkly-hall,
And all their nunnery.’

15

‘Now nay, now nay,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘That boon I'll not grant thee;
I never hurt woman in all my life,
Nor men in woman's company.

16

‘I never hurt fair maid in all my time,
Nor at mine end shall it be;
But give me my bent bow in my hand,
And a broad arrow I'll let flee;
And where this arrow is taken up,
There shall my grave digged be.

17

‘Lay me a green sod under my head,
And another at my feet;
And lay my bent bow by my side,
Which was my music sweet;
And make my grave of gravel and green,
Which is most right and meet.

18

‘Let me have length and breadth enough,
With a green sod under my head;
That they may say, when I am dead
Here lies bold Robin Hood.’

19

These words they readily granted him,
Which did bold Robin please:
And there they buried bold Robin Hood,
Within the fair Kirkleys.

108

121
ROBIN HOOD AND THE POTTER

ROBIN HOOD AND THE POTTER

[_]

Library of the University of Cambridge, MS. E e. 4. 35, fol. 14 b, of about 1500.

109

1

In schomer, when the leves spryng,
The bloschoms on euery bowe,
So merey doyt the berdys syng
Yn wodys merey now.

2

Herkens, god yemen,
Comley, corteys, and god,
On of the best þat yeuer bare bowe,
Hes name was Roben Hode.

3

Roben Hood was the yeman's name,
That was boyt corteys and ffre;
Ffor the loffe of owre ladey,
All wemen werschepyd he.

4

Bot as the god yeman stod on a day,
Among hes mery maney,
He was ware of a prowd potter,
Cam dryfyng owyr the ley.

5

‘Yonder comet a prod potter,’ seyde Roben,
‘That long hayt hantyd þis wey;
He was neuer so corteys a man
On peney of pawage to pay.’

6

‘Y met hem bot at Went-breg,’ seyde Lytyll John,
‘And therefore yeffell mot he the!
Seche thre strokes he me gafe,
Yet by my seydys cleffe þey.

110

7

‘Y ley forty shillings,’ seyde Lytyll John,
‘To pay het thes same day,
Ther ys nat a man among hus all
A wed schall make hem ley.’

8

‘Here ys forty shillings,’ seyde Roben,
‘More, and thow dar say,
Þat y schall make þat prowde potter,
A wed to me schall he ley.’

9

There thes money they leyde,
They toke het a yeman to kepe;
Roben beffore the potter he breyde,
A[nd] bad hem stond stell.

10

Handys apon hes hors he leyde,
And bad the potter stonde foll stell;
The potter schorteley to hem seyde,
Ffelow, what ys they well?

11

‘All thes thre yer, and more, potter,’ he seyde,
‘Thow hast hantyd thes wey,
Yet were tow neuer so cortys a man
On peney of pauage to pay.’

12

‘What ys they name,’ seyde þe potter,
‘Ffor pauage thow aske of me?’
‘Roben Hod ys mey name,
A wed schall thow leffe me.’

13

‘Wed well y non leffe,’ seyde þe potter,
‘Nor pavag well y non pay;
Awey they honde ffro mey hors!
Y well the tene eyls, be mey ffay.’

14

The potter to hes cart he went,
He was not to seke;
A god to-hande staffe þerowt he hent,
Beffore Roben he leppyd.

15

Roben howt with a swerd bent,
A bokeler en hes honde;
The potter to Roben he went,
And seyde, Ffelow, let mey hors go.

16

Togeder then went thes to yemen,
Het was a god seyt to se;
Thereof low Robyn hes men,
There they stod onder a tre.

17

Leytell John to hes ffelowhe[s] seyde,
‘Yend potter well steffeley stonde:’
The potter, with a acward stroke,
Smot the bokeler owt of hes honde.

18

A[nd] ar Roben meyt get het agen
Hes bokeler at hes ffette,
The potter yn the neke hem toke,
To the gronde sone he yede.

19

That saw Roben hes men,
As thay stod onder a bow;
‘Let vs helpe owre master,’ seyde Lytell John,
‘Yonder potter,’ seyde he, ‘els well hem slo.’

20

Thes yemen went with a breyde,
To ther mast[er] they cam.
Leytell John to hes mast[er] seyde,
Ho haet the wager won?

21

‘Schall y haffe yowre forty shillings,’ seyde Lytl John,
‘Or ye, master, schall haffe myne?’
‘Yeff they were a hundred,’ seyde Roben,
‘Y ffeythe, they ben all theyne.’

22

‘Het ys fol leytell cortesey,’ seyde þe potter,
‘As y haffe harde weyse men saye,
Yeffe a pore yeman com drywyng on the wey,
To let hem of hes gorney.’

23

‘Be mey trowet, thow seys soyt,’ seyde Roben,
‘Thow seys god yeme[n]rey;
And thow dreyffe fforthe yeuery day,
Thow schalt neuer be let ffor me.

24

‘Y well prey the, god potter,
A ffelischepe well thow haffe?
Geffe me they clothyng, and þow schalt hafe myne;
Y well go to Notynggam.’

25

‘Y gra[n]t thereto,’ seyde the potter,
‘Thow schalt ffeynde me a ffelow gode;
Bot thow can sell mey pottys well,
Com ayen as thow yode.’

26

‘Nay, be mey trowt,’ seyde Roben,
‘And then y bescro mey hede,
Yeffe y bryng eny pottys ayen,
And eney weyffe well hem chepe.’

27

Than spake Leytell John,
And all hes ffelowhes heynd,

111

‘Master, be well ware of the screffe of Notynggam,
Ffor he ys leytell howr ffrende.’

28

‘Heyt war howte!’ seyde Roben,
‘Ffelowhes, let me a lone;
Thorow the helpe of Howr Ladey,
To Notynggam well y gon.’

29

Robyn went to Notynggam,
Thes pottys ffor to sell;
The potter abode with Robens men,
There he ffered not eylle.

30

Tho Roben droffe on hes wey,
So merey ower the londe:
Her es more, and affter ys to saye,
The best ys beheynde.

31

When Roben cam to Notynggam,
The soyt yef y scholde saye,
He set op hes hors anon,
And gaffe hem hotys and haye.

32

Yn the medys of the towne,
There he schowed hes ware;
‘Pottys! pottys!’ he gan crey foll sone,
‘Haffe hansell ffor the mare!’

33

Ffoll effen agenest the screffeys gate
Schowed he hes chaffare;
Weyffes and wedowes abowt hem drow,
And chepyd ffast of hes ware.

34

Yet, ‘Pottys, gret chepe!’ creyed Robyn,
‘Y loffe yeffell thes to stonde;’
And all that say hem sell
Seyde he had be no potter long.

35

The pottys that were werthe pens ffeyffe,
He solde tham ffor pens thre;
Preveley seyde man and weyffe,
‘Ywnder potter schall neuer the.’

36

Thos Roben solde ffoll ffast,
Tell he had pottys bot ffeyffe;
Op he hem toke of hes care,
And sende hem to the screffeys weyffe.

37

Thereof sche was ffoll ffayne,
‘Gereamarsey, ser,’ than seyde sche;
‘When ye com to thes contre ayen,
Y schall bey of the[y] pottys, so mot y the.’

38

‘Ye schall haffe of the best,’ seyde Roben,
And sware be the Treneytë;
Ffoll corteysley [sc]he gan hem call,
‘Com deyne with the screfe and me.’

39

‘God amarsey,’ seyde Roben,
‘Yowre bedyng schall be doyn;’
A mayden yn the pottys gan bere,
Roben and þe screffe weyffe ffolowed anon.

40

Whan Roben yn to the hall cam,
The screffë sone he met;
The potter cowed of corteysey,
And sone the screffe he gret.

41

‘Lo, ser, what thes potter hayt geffe yow and me;
Ffeyffe pottys smalle and grete!’
‘He ys ffoll wellcom,’ seyd the screffe;
‘Let os was, and go to mete.’

42

As they sat at her methe,
With a nobell chere,
To of the screffes men gan speke
Off a gret wager;

43

Off a schotyng, was god and ffeyne,
Was made the thother daye,
Off forty shillings, the soyt to saye,
Who scholde thes wager wen.

44

Styll than sat thes prowde potter,
Thos than thowt he;
As y am a trow cerstyn man,
Thes schotyng well y se.

45

Whan they had ffared of the best,
With bred and ale and weyne,
To the bottys the made them prest,
With bowes and boltys ffoll ffeyne.

46

The screffes men schot ffoll ffast,
As archares þat weren godde;
There cam non ner ney the marke
Bey halffe a god archares bowe.

47

Stell then stod the prowde potter,
Thos than seyde he;
And y had a bow, be the rode,
On schot scholde yow se.

112

48

‘Thow schall haffe a bow,’ seyde the screffe,
‘The best þat thow well cheys of thre;
Thou semyst a stalward and a stronge,
Asay schall thow be.’

49

The screffe commandyd a yeman þat stod hem bey
Affter bowhes to weynde;
The best bow þat the yeman browthe
Roben set on a stryng.

50

‘Now schall y wet and thow be god,
And polle het op to they nere;’
‘So god me helpe,’ seyde the prowde potter,
‘Þys ys bot rygȝt weke gere.’

51

To a quequer Roben went,
A god bolt owthe he toke;
So ney on to the marke he went,
He ffayled not a fothe.

52

All they schot abowthe agen,
The screffes men and he;
Off the marke he welde not ffayle,
He cleffed the preke on thre.

53

The screffes men thowt gret schame
The potter the mastry wan;
The screffë lowe and made god game,
And seyde, Potter, thow art a man.

54

[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
Thow art worthey to bere a bowe
Yn what plas that þow goe.

55

‘Yn mey cart y haffe a bowe,
Ffor soyt,’ he seyde, ‘and that a godde;
Yn mey cart ys the bow
That gaffe me Robyn Hode.’

56

‘Knowest thow Robyn Hode?’ seyde the screffe,
‘Potter, y prey the tell thow me;’
‘A hundred torne y haffe schot with hem,
Vnder hes tortyll-tre.’

57

‘Y had leuer nar a hundred ponde,’ seyde þe screffe,
‘And sware be the Trenitë,
[OMITTED]
Þat the ffals outelawe stod be me.’

58

‘And ye well do afftyr mey red,’ seyde þe potter,
‘And boldeley go with me,
And to morow, or we het bred,
Roben Hode well we se.’

59

‘Y wel queyt the,’ kod the screffe,
‘Y swere be God of meythe;’
Schetyng thay left, and hom þey went,
Her soper was reddy deythe.

60

Vpon the morow, when het was day,
He boskyd hem fforthe to reyde;
The potter hes cart fforthe gan ray,
And wolde not leffe beheynde.

61

He toke leffe of the screffys wyffe,
And thankyd her of all thyng:
‘Dam, ffor mey loffe and ye well þys were,
Y geffe yow here a golde ryng.’

62

‘Gramarsey,’ seyde the weyffe,
‘Ser, god eylde het the;’
The screffes hart was neuer so leythe,
The ffeyre fforeyst to se.

63

And when he cam yn to the fforeyst,
Yonder the leffes grene,
Berdys there sange on bowhes prest,
Het was gret goy to se.

64

‘Here het ys merey to be,’ seyde Roben,
‘Ffor a man that had hawt to spende;
Be mey horne I schall awet
Yeff Roben Hode be here.’

65

Roben set hes horne to hes mowthe,
And blow a blast þat was ffoll god;
Þat herde hes men þat þere stode,
Ffer downe yn the wodde.

66

‘I her mey master blow,’ seyde Leytell John,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
They ran as thay were wode.

67

Whan thay to thar master cam,
Leytell John wold not spare;
‘Master, how haffe yow ffare yn Notynggam?
How haffe yow solde yowre ware?’

68

‘Ye, be mey trowthe, Leyty[ll] John,
Loke thow take no care;

113

Y haffe browt the screffe of Notynggam,
Ffor all howre chaffare.’

69

‘He ys ffoll wellcom,’ seyde Lytyll John,
‘Thes tydyng ys ffoll godde;
The screffe had leuer nar a hundred ponde
He had [neuer sene Roben Hode.]

70

‘[Had I] west þat befforen,
At Notynggam when we were,
Thow scholde not com yn ffeyre fforest
Of all thes thowsande eyre.’

71

‘That wot y well,’ seyde Roben,
‘Y thanke God that ye be here;
Thereffore schall ye leffe yowre hors with hos,
And all yowre hother gere.’

72

‘That ffend I Godys fforbod,’ kod the screffe,
‘So to lese mey godde;
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

73

‘Hether ye cam on hors ffoll hey,
And hom schall ye go on ffote;
And gret well they weyffe at home,
The woman ys ffoll godde.

74

‘Y schall her sende a wheyt palffrey,
Het ambellet be mey ffey,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

75

‘Y schall her sende a wheyt palffrey,
Het hambellet as the weynde;
Nere ffor the loffe of yowre weyffe,
Off more sorow scholde yow seyng.’

76

Thes parted Robyn Hode and the screffe;
To Notynggam he toke the waye;
Hes weyffe ffeyre welcomed hem hom,
And to hem gan sche saye:

77

Seyr, how haffe yow ffared yn grene fforeyst?
Haffe ye browt Roben hom?
‘Dam, the deyell spede hem, bothe bodey and bon;
Y haffe hade a ffoll gret skorne.

78

‘Of all the god that y haffe lade to grene wod,
He hayt take het ffro me;
All bot thes ffeyre palffrey,
That he hayt sende to the.’

79

With þat sche toke op a lowde lawhyng,
And swhare be hem þat deyed on tre,
‘Now haffe yow payed ffor all þe pottys
That Roben gaffe to me.

80

‘Now ye be com hom to Notynggam,
Ye schall haffe god ynowe;’
Now speke we of Roben Hode,
And of the pottyr ondyr the grene bowhe.

81

‘Potter, what was they pottys worthe
To Notynggam þat y ledde with me?’
‘They wer worthe to nobellys,’ seyde he,
‘So mot y treyffe or the;
So cowde y [haffe] had ffor tham,
And y had there be.’

82

‘Thow schalt hafe ten ponde,’ seyde Roben,
‘Of money ffeyre and ffre;
And yeuer whan thow comest to grene wod,
Wellcom, potter, to me.’

83

Thes partyd Robyn, the screffe, and the potter,
Ondernethe the grene-wod tre;
God haffe mersey on Roben Hodys solle,
And saffe all god yemanrey!

115

122
ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER

116

Robin Hood and the Butcher

ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER—A

[_]

Percy MS., p. 7; Hales and Furnivall, I, 19.

1

But Robin he walkes in the g[reene] fforrest,
As merry as bird on boughe,
But he that feitches good Robins head,
Hee'le find him game enoughe.

2

But Robine he walkes in the greene fforrest,
Vnder his trusty-tree;
Sayes, Hearken, hearken, my merrymen all,
What tydings is come to me.

3

The sheriffe he hath made a cry,
Hee'le have my head i-wis;
But ere a tweluemonth come to an end
I may chance to light on his.

4

Robin he marcht in the greene forrest,
Vnder the greenwood scray,
And there he was ware of a proud bucher,
Came driuing flesh by the way.

5

The bucher he had a cut-taild dogg,
And at Robins face he flew;
But Robin he was a good sword,
The bucher's dogg he slew.

6

‘Why slayes thou my dogg?’ sayes the bucher,
‘For he did none ill to thee;

117

By all the saints that are in heaven
Thou shalt haue buffetts three.’

7

He tooke his staffe then in his hand,
And he turnd him round about:
‘Thou hast a litle wild blood in thy head,
Good fellow, thou'st haue it letten out.’

8

‘He that does that deed,’ sayes Robin,
‘I'le count him for a man;
But that while will I draw my sword,
And fend it if I can.’

9

But Robin he stroke att the bloudy bucher,
In place were he did stand,

[OMITTED]

10

‘I [am] a younge bucher,’ sayes Robin,
‘You fine dames am I come amonge;
But euer I beseech you, good Mrs Sheriffe,
You must see me take noe wronge.’

11

‘Thou art verry welcome,’ said Master Sherriff's wiffe,
‘Thy inne heere up [to] take;
If any good ffellow come in thy companie,
Hee'st be welcome for thy sake.’

12

Robin called ffor ale, soe did he for wine,
And for it he did pay:
‘I must to my markett goe,’ says Robin,
‘For I hold time itt of the day.’

13

But Robin is to the markett gone,
Soe quickly and beliue,
He sold more flesh for one peny
Then othe[r] buchers did for fiue.

14

The drew about the younge bucher,
Like sheepe into a fold;
Yea neuer a bucher had sold a bitt
Till Robin he had all sold.

15

When Robin Hood had his markett made,
His flesh was sold and gone;
Yea he had receiued but a litle mony,
But thirty pence and one.

16

Seaven buchers, the garded Robin Hood,
Ffull many time and oft;
Sayes, We must drinke with you, brother bucher,
It's custome of our crafte.

17

‘If that be the custome of your crafte,
As heere you tell to me,
Att four of the clocke in the afternoone
At the sheriffs hall I wilbe.’

[OMITTED]

18

[OMITTED]
‘If thou doe like it well;
Yea heere is more by three hundred pound
Then thou hast beasts to sell.’

19

Robyn sayd naught, the more he thought:
‘Mony neere comes out of time;
If once I catch thee in the greene fforest,
That mony it shall be mine.’

20

But on the next day seuen butchers
Came to guard the sheriffe that day;
But Robin he was the whigh[t]est man,
He led them all the way.

21

He led them into the greene fforest,
Vnder the trusty tree;
Yea, there were harts, and ther were hynds,
And staggs with heads full high.

22

Yea, there were harts and there were hynds,
And many a goodly ffawne;
‘Now praised be God,’ says bold Robin,
‘All these they be my owne.

23

‘These are my horned beasts,’ says Robin,
‘Master Sherriffe, which must make the stake;’
‘But euer alacke, now,’ said the sheriffe,
‘That tydings comes to late!’

24

Robin sett a shrill horne to his mouth,
And a loud blast he did blow,
And then halfe a hundred bold archers
Came rakeing on a row.

25

But when the came before bold Robin,
Even there the stood all bare:
‘You are welcome, master, from Nottingham:
How haue you sold your ware?’

[OMITTED]

26

[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
It proues bold Robin Hood.

118

27

‘Yea, he hath robbed me of all my gold
And siluer that euer I had;
But that I had a verry good wife at home,
I shold haue lost my head.

28

‘But I had a verry good wife at home,
Which made him gentle cheere,
And therfor, for my wifes sake,
I shold haue better favor heere.

29

‘But such favor as he shewed me
I might haue of the devills dam,
That will rob a man of all he hath,
And send him naked home.’

30

‘That is very well done,’ then says his wiffe,
‘Itt is well done, I say;
You might haue tarryed att Nottingham,
Soe fayre as I did you pray.’

31

‘I haue learned wisdome,’ sayes the sherriffe,
‘And, wife, I haue learned of thee;
But if Robin walke easte, or he walke west,
He shall neuer be sought for me.’

Robin Hood and the Butcher

ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER—B

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 19 b. b. Garland of 1663, No 6. c. Garland of 1670, No 5. d. Pepys, II, 102, No 89.

1

Come, all you brave gallants, and listen a while,
With hey down, down, an a down
That are in the bowers within;
For of Robin Hood, that archer good,
A song I intend for to sing.

2

Upon a time it chancëd so
Bold Robin in forrest did spy
A jolly butcher, with a bonny fine mare,
With his flesh to the market did hye.

3

‘Good morrow, good fellow,’ said jolly Robin,
‘What food hast? tell unto me;
And thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell,
For I like well thy company.’

4

The butcher he answered jolly Robin:
No matter where I dwell;
For a butcher I am, and to Notingham
I am going, my flesh to sell.

5

‘What is [the] price of thy flesh?’ said jolly Robin,
‘Come, tell it soon unto me;
And the price of thy mare, be she never so dear,
For a butcher fain would I be.’

6

‘The price of my flesh,’ the butcher repli'd,
‘I soon will tell unto thee;
With my bonny mare, and they are not dear,
Four mark thou must give unto me.’

7

‘Four mark I will give thee,’ saith jolly Robin,
‘Four mark it shall be thy fee;
Thy mony come count, and let me mount,
For a butcher I fain would be.’

8

Now Robin he is to Notingham gone,
His butcher's trade for to begin;
With good intent, to the sheriff he went,
And there he took up his inn.

9

When other butchers they opened their meat,
Bold Robin he then begun;
But how for to sell he knew not well,
For a butcher he was but young.

10

When other butchers no meat could sell,
Robin got both gold and fee;
For he sold more meat for one peny
Than others could do for three.

11

But when he sold his meat so fast,
No butcher by him could thrive;
For he sold more meat for one peny
Than others could do for five.

12

Which made the butchers of Notingham
To study as they did stand,
Saying, surely he was some prodigal,
That had sold his father's land.

13

The butchers they stepped to jolly Robin,
Acquainted with him for to be;
‘Come, brother,’ one said, ‘we be all of one trade,
Come, will you go dine with me?’

119

14

‘Accurst of his heart,’ said jolly Robin,
‘That a butcher doth deny;
I will go with you, my brethren true,
And as fast as I can hie.’

15

But when to the sheriff's house they came,
To dinner they hied apace,
And Robin he the man must be
Before them all to say grace.

16

‘Pray God bless us all,’ said jolly Robin,
‘And our meat within this place;
A cup of sack so good will nourish our blood,
And so I do end my grace.

17

‘Come fill us more wine,’ said jolly Robin,
‘Let us merry be while we do stay;
For wine and good cheer, be it never so dear,
I vow I the reckning will pay.

18

‘Come, brother[s], be merry,’ said jolly Robin,
‘Let us drink, and never give ore;
For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way,
If it cost me five pounds and more.’

19

‘This is a mad blade,’ the butchers then said;
Saies the sheriff, He is some prodigal,
That some land has sold, for silver and gold,
And now he doth mean to spend all.

20

‘Hast thou any horn-beasts,’ the sheriff repli'd,
‘Good fellow, to sell unto me?’
‘Yes, that I have, good Master Sheriff,
I have hundreds two or three.

21

‘And a hundred aker of good free land,
If you please it to see;
And I'le make you as good assurance of it
As ever my father made me.’

22

The sheriff he saddled a good palfrey,
With three hundred pound in gold,
And away he went with bold Robin Hood,
His horned beasts to behold.

23

Away then the sheriff and Robin did ride,
To the forrest of merry Sherwood;
Then the sheriff did say, God bless us this day
From a man they call Robin Hood!

24

But when that a little further they came,
Bold Robin he chancëd to spy
A hundred head of good red deer,
Come tripping the sheriff full nigh.

25

‘How like you my hornd beasts, good Master Sheriff?
They be fat and fair for to see;’
‘I tell thee, good fellow, I would I were gone,
For I like not thy company.’

26

Then Robin he set his horn to his mouth,
And blew but blasts three;
Then quickly anon there came Little John,
And all his company.

27

‘What is your will?’ then said Little John,
‘Good master come tell it to me;
‘I have brought hither the sheriff of Notingham,
This day to dine with thee.’

28

‘He is welcome to me,’ then said Little John,
‘I hope he will honestly pay;
I know he has gold, if it be but well told,
Will serve us to drink a whole day.’

29

Then Robin took his mantle from his back,
And laid it upon the ground,
And out of the sheriffe['s] portmantle
He told three hundred pound.

30

Then Robin he brought him thorow the wood,
And set him on his dapple gray:
‘O have me commended to your wife at home;’
So Robin went laughing away.

120

123
ROBIN HOOD AND THE CURTAL FRIAR

123

Robine Hood and Ffryer Tucke

ROBIN HOOD AND THE CURTAL FRIAR—A

[_]

Percy MS., p. 10; Hales and Furnivall, I, 26.

1

But how many merry monthes be in the yeere?
There are thirteen, I say;
The midsummer moone is the merryest of all,
Next to the merry month of May.

2

In May, when mayds beene fast weepand,
Young men their hands done wringe,

[OMITTED]

3

‘I'le [OMITTED] pe [OMITTED]
Over may noe man for villanie:’
‘I'le never eate nor drinke,’ Robin Hood sa[id],
‘Till I that cutted friar see.’

4

He builded his men in a brake of fearne,
A litle from that nunery;
Sayes, If you heare my litle horne blow,
Then looke you come to me.

5

When Robin came to Fontaines Abey,
Wheras that fryer lay,
He was ware of the fryer where he stood,
And to him thus can he say.

6

A payre of blacke breeches the yeoman had on,
His coppe all shone of steele,
A fayre sword and a broad buckeler
Beseemed him very weell.

7

‘I am a wet weary man,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Good fellow, as thou may see;
Wilt beare [me] over this wild water,
Ffor sweete Saint Charity?’

8

The fryer bethought him of a good deed;
He had done none of long before;
He hent up Robin Hood on his backe,
And over he did him beare.

9

But when he came over that wild water,
A longe sword there he drew:
‘Beare me backe againe, bold outlawe,
Or of this thou shalt have enoughe.’

10

Then Robin Hood hent the fryar on his back,
And neither sayd good nor ill;
Till he came ore that wild water,
The yeoman he walked still.

11

Then Robin Hood wett his fayre greene hoze,
A span aboue his knee;
S[ay]s, Beare me ore againe, thou cutted f[ryer]

[OMITTED]

12

[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED] good bowmen
[C]ame raking all on a rowe.

13

‘I beshrew thy head,’ said the cutted ffriar,
‘Thou thinkes I shall be shente;
I thought thou had but a man or two,
And thou hast [a] whole conuent.

14

‘I lett thee haue a blast on thy horne,
Now giue me leaue to whistle another;
I cold not bidd thee noe better play
And thou wert my owne borne brother.’

15

‘Now fute on, fute on, thou cutted fryar,
I pray God thou neere be still;
It is not the futing in a fryers fist
That can doe me any ill.’

16

The fryar sett his neave to his mouth,
A loud blast he did blow;
Then halfe a hundred good bandoggs
Came raking all on a rowe.

17

[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
‘Euery dogg to a man,’ said the cutted fryar,
‘And I my selfe to Robin Hood.’

18

‘Over God's forbott,’ said Robin Hood,
‘That euer that soe shold bee;
I had rather be mached with three of the tikes
Ere I wold be matched on thee.

19

‘But stay thy tikes, thou fryar,’ he said,
‘And freindshipp I'le haue with thee;
But stay thy tikes, thou fryar,’ he said,
‘And saue good yeomanry.’

20

The fryar he sett his neave to his mouth,
A lowd blast he did blow;

124

The doggs the coucht downe euery one,
They couched downe on a rowe.

21

‘What is thy will, thou yeoman?’ he said,
‘Haue done and tell it me;’
‘If that thou will goe to merry greenwood,

[OMITTED]

The Famous Battel between Robin Hood and the Curtal Fryer

ROBIN HOOD AND THE CURTAL FRIAR—B

[_]

a. Garland of 1663, No 11. b. Pepys, I, 78, No 37. c. Garland of 1670, No 10. d. Wood, 401, leaf 15 b. e. Pepys, II, 99, No 86. f. Douce, II, 184.

1

In summer time, when leaves grow green,
And flowers are fresh and gay,
Robin Hood and his merry men
Were disposed to play.

2

Then some would leap, and some would run,
And some would use artillery:
‘Which of you can a good bow draw,
A good archer to be?

3

‘Which of you can kill a buck?
Or who can kill a do?
Or who can kill a hart of greece,
Five hundred foot him fro?’

4

Will Scadlock he killd a buck,
And Midge he killd a do,
And Little John killd a hart of greece,
Five hundred foot him fro.

5

‘God's blessing on thy heart,’ said Robin Hood,
‘That hath [shot] such a shot for me;
I would ride my horse an hundred miles,
To finde one could match with thee.’

6

That causd Will Scadlock to laugh,
He laughed full heartily:
‘There lives a curtal frier in Fountains Abby
Will beat both him and thee.

7

‘That curtal frier in Fountains Abby
Well can a strong bow draw;
He will beat you and your yeomen,
Set them all on a row.’

8

Robin Hood took a solemn oath,
It was by Mary free,
That he would neither eat nor drink
Till the frier he did see.

9

Robin Hood put on his harness good,
And on his head a cap of steel,
Broad sword and buckler by his side,
And they became him weel.

10

He took his bow into his hand,
It was made of a trusty tree,
With a sheaf of arrows at his belt,
To the Fountains Dale went he.

11

And comming unto Fountain[s] Dale,
No further would he ride;
There was he aware of a curtal frier,
Walking by the water-side.

12

The fryer had on a harniss good,
And on his head a cap of steel,
Broad sword and buckler by his side,
And they became him weel.

13

Robin Hood lighted off his horse,
And tied him to a thorn:
‘Carry me over the water, thou curtal frier,
Or else thy life's forlorn.’

14

The frier took Robin Hood on his back,
Deep water he did bestride,
And spake neither good word nor bad,
Till he came at the other side.

15

Lightly leapt Robin Hood off the friers back;
The frier said to him again,
Carry me over this water, fine fellow,
Or it shall breed thy pain.

16

Robin Hood took the frier on's back,
Deep water he did bestride,
And spake neither good word nor bad,
Till he came at the other side.

17

Lightly leapt the fryer off Robin Hoods back;
Robin Hood said to him again,
Carry me over this water, thou curtal frier,
Or it shall breed thy pain.

125

18

The frier took Robin Hood on's back again,
And stept up to the knee;
Till he came at the middle stream,
Neither good nor bad spake he.

19

And coming to the middle stream,
There he threw Robin in:
‘And chuse thee, chuse thee, fine fellow,
Whether thou wilt sink or swim.’

20

Robin Hood swam to a bush of broom,
The frier to a wicker wand;
Bold Robin Hood is gone to shore,
And took his bow in hand.

21

One of his best arrows under his belt
To the frier he let flye;
The curtal frier, with his steel buckler,
He put that arrow by.

22

‘Shoot on, shoot on, thou fine fellow,
Shoot on as thou hast begun;
If thou shoot here a summers day,
Thy mark I will not shun.’

23

Robin Hood shot passing well,
Till his arrows all were gone;
They took their swords and steel bucklers,
And fought with might and maine;

24

From ten oth' clock that day,
Till four ith' afternoon;
Then Robin Hood came to his knees,
Of the frier to beg a boon.

25

‘A boon, a boon, thou curtal frier,
I beg it on my knee;
Give me leave to set my horn to my mouth,
And to blow blasts three.’

26

‘That will I do,’ said the curtal frier,
‘Of thy blasts I have no doubt;
I hope thou'lt blow so passing well
Till both thy eyes fall out.’

27

Robin Hood set his horn to his mouth,
He blew but blasts three;
Half a hundred yeomen, with bows bent,
Came raking over the lee.

28

‘Whose men are these,’ said the frier,
‘That come so hastily?’
‘These men are mine,’ said Robin Hood;
‘Frier, what is that to thee?’

29

‘A boon, a boon,’ said the curtal frier,
‘The like I gave to thee;
Give me leave to set my fist to my mouth,
And to whute whutes three.’

30

‘That will I do,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Or else I were to blame;
Three whutes in a friers fist
Would make me glad and fain.’

31

The frier he set his fist to his mouth,
And whuted whutes three;
Half a hundred good ban-dogs
Came running the frier unto.

32

‘Here's for every man of thine a dog,
And I my self for thee:’
‘Nay, by my faith,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘Frier, that may not be.’

33

Two dogs at once to Robin Hood did go,
The one behind, the other before;
Robin Hoods mantle of Lincoln green
Off from his back they tore.

34

And whether his men shot east or west,
Or they shot north or south,
The curtal dogs, so taught they were,
They kept their arrows in their mouth.

35

‘Take up thy dogs,’ said Little John,
‘Frier, at my bidding be;’
‘Whose man art thou,’ said the curtal frier,
‘Comes here to prate with me?’

36

‘I am Little John, Robin Hoods man,
Frier, I will not lie;
If thou take not up thy dogs soon,
I'le take up them and thee.’

37

Little John had a bow in his hand,
He shot with might and main;
Soon half a score of the friers dogs
Lay dead upon the plain.

38

‘Hold thy hand, good fellow,’ said the curtal frier,
‘Thy master and I will agree;
And we will have new orders taken,
With all the haste that may be.’

126

39

‘If thou wilt forsake fair Fountains Dale,
And Fountains Abby free,
Every Sunday throughout the year,
A noble shall be thy fee.

40

‘And every holy day throughout the year,
Changed shall thy garment be,
If thou wilt go to fair Nottingham,
And there remain with me.’

41

This curtal frier had kept Fountains Dale
Seven long years or more;
There was neither knight, lord, nor earl
Could make him yield before.

129

124
THE JOLLY PINDER OF WAKEFIELD

131

THE JOLLY PINDER OF WAKEFIELD—A

[_]

a. Wood, 402, leaf 43. b. Garland of 1663, No 4. c. Garland of 1670, No 3. d. Pepys, II, 100, No 87 a. e. Wood, 401, leaf 61 b.

1

In Wakefield there lives a jolly pinder,
In Wakefield, all on a green;

[_]

(bis)

2

‘There is neither knight nor squire,’ said the pinder,
‘Nor baron that is so bold,

[_]

(bis)

Dare make a trespasse to the town of Wakefield,
But his pledge goes to the pinfold.’

[_]

(bis)

3

All this beheard three witty young men,
'T was Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John;
With that they spyed the jolly pinder,
As he sate under a thorn.

4

‘Now turn again, turn again,’ said the pinder,
‘For a wrong way have you gone;
For you have forsaken the king his highway,
And made a path over the corn.’

5

‘O that were great shame,’ said jolly Robin,
‘We being three, and thou but one:’
The pinder leapt back then thirty good foot,
'T was thirty good foot and one.

6

He leaned his back fast unto a thorn,
And his foot unto a stone,
And there he fought a long summer's day,
A summer's day so long,
Till that their swords, on their broad bucklers,
Were broken fast unto their hands.

[OMITTED]

7

‘Hold thy hand, hold thy hand,’ said Robin Hood,
‘And my merry men euery one;
For this is one of the best pinders
That ever I try'd with sword.

8

‘And wilt thou forsake thy pinder his craft,
And live in [the] green wood with me?
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

9

‘At Michaelmas next my covnant comes out,
When every man gathers his fee;
I'le take my blew blade all in my hand,
And plod to the green wood with thee.’

10

‘Hast thou either meat or drink,’ said Robin Hood,
‘For my merry men and me?
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

11

‘I have both bread and beef,’ said the pinder,
‘And good ale of the best;’
‘And that is meat good enough,’ said Robin Hood,
‘For such unbidden guest.

12

‘O wilt thou forsake the pinder his craft,
And go to the green wood with me?
Thou shalt have a livery twice in the year,
The one green, the other brown [shall be].’

13

‘If Michaelmas day were once come and gone
And my master had paid me my fee,
Then would I set as little by him
As my master doth set by me.’

THE JOLLY PINDER OF WAKEFIELD—B

[_]

Percy MS., p. 15; Hales and Furnivall, I, 32.

[OMITTED]

1

‘But hold y [OMITTED] hold y [OMITTED] ’ says Robin,
‘My merrymen, I bid yee,
For this [is] one of the best pindars
That euer I saw with mine eye.

132

2

‘But hast thou any meat, thou iolly pindar,
For my merrymen and me?’
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

3

‘But I haue bread and cheese,’ sayes the pindar,
‘And ale all on the best:’
‘That's cheere good enoughe,’ said Robin,
‘For any such vnbidden guest.

4

‘But wilt be my man?’ said good Robin,
‘And come and dwell with me?
And twise in a yeere thy clothing [shall] be changed
If my man thou wilt bee,
The tone shall be of light Lincolne greene,
The tother of Picklory.’

5

‘Att Michallmas comes a well good time,
When men haue gotten in their ffee;
I'le sett as litle by my master
As he now setts by me,
I'le take my benbowe in my hande,
And come into the grenwoode to thee.’

133

125
ROBIN HOOD AND LITTLE JOHN

ROBIN HOOD AND LITTLE JOHN

[_]

a. A Collection of Old Ballads, 1723, I, 75. b. Aldermary Garland, by R.Marshall, n. d., No 22.

134

1

When Robin Hood was about twenty years old,
With a hey down down and a down
He happend to meet Little John,
A jolly brisk blade, right fit for the trade,
For he was a lusty young man.

2

Tho he was calld Little, his limbs they were large,
And his stature was seven foot high;
Where-ever he came, they quak'd at his name,
For soon he would make them to fly.

3

How they came acquainted, I'll tell you in brief,
If you will but listen a while;
For this very jest, amongst all the rest,
I think it may cause you to smile.

4

Bold Robin Hood said to his jolly bowmen,
Pray tarry you here in this grove;
And see that you all observe well my call,
While thorough the forest I rove.

5

We have had no sport for these fourteen long days,
Therefore now abroad will I go;
Now should I be beat, and cannot retreat,
My horn I will presently blow.

6

Then did he shake hands with his merry men all,
And bid them at present good b'w'ye;
Then, as near a brook his journey he took,
A stranger he chancd to espy.

7

They happend to meet on a long narrow bridge,
And neither of them would give way;
Quoth bold Robin Hood, and sturdily stood,
I'll show you right Nottingham play.

8

With that from his quiver an arrow he drew,
A broad arrow with a goose-wing:
The stranger reply'd, I'll liquor thy hide,
If thou offerst to touch the string.

9

Quoth bold Robin Hood, Thou dost prate like an ass,
For were I to bend but my bow,
I could send a dart quite thro thy proud heart,
Before thou couldst strike me one blow.

10

‘Thou talkst like a coward,’ the stranger reply'd;
‘Well armd with a long bow you stand,

135

To shoot at my breast, while I, I protest,
Have nought but a staff in my hand.’

11

‘The name of a coward,’ quoth Robin, ‘I scorn,
Wherefore my long bow I'll lay by;
And now, for thy sake, a staff will I take,
The truth of thy manhood to try.’

12

Then Robin Hood stept to a thicket of trees,
And chose him a staff of ground-oak;
Now this being done, away he did run
To the stranger, and merrily spoke:

13

Lo! see my staff, it is lusty and tough,
Now here on the bridge we will play;
Whoever falls in, the other shall win
The battel, and so we'll away.

14

‘With all my whole heart,’ the stranger reply'd;
‘I scorn in the least to give out;’
This said, they fell to't without more dispute,
And their staffs they did flourish about.

15

And first Robin he gave the stranger a bang,
So hard that it made his bones ring:
The stranger he said, This must be repaid,
I'll give you as good as you bring.

16

So long as I'm able to handle my staff,
To die in your debt, friend, I scorn:
Then to it each goes, and followd their blows,
As if they had been threshing of corn.

17

The stranger gave Robin a crack on the crown,
Which caused the blood to appear;
Then Robin, enrag'd, more fiercely engag'd,
And followd his blows more severe.

18

So thick and so fast did he lay it on him,
With a passionate fury and ire,
At every stroke, he made him to smoke,
As if he had been all on fire.

19

O then into fury the stranger he grew,
And gave him a damnable look,
And with it a blow that laid him full low,
And tumbld him into the brook.

20

‘I prithee, good fellow, O where art thou now?’
The stranger, in laughter, he cry'd;
Quoth bold Robin Hood, Good faith, in the flood,
And floating along with the tide.

21

I needs must acknowledge thou art a brave soul;
With thee I'll no longer contend;
For needs must I say, thou hast got the day,
Our battel shall be at an end.

22

Then unto the bank he did presently wade,
And pulld himself out by a thorn;
Which done, at the last, he blowd a loud blast
Straitway on his fine bugle-horn.

23

The eccho of which through the vallies did fly,
At which his stout bowmen appeard,
All cloathed in green, most gay to be seen;
So up to their master they steerd.

24

‘O what's the matter?’ quoth William Stutely;
‘Good master, you are wet to the skin:’
‘No matter,’ quoth he; ‘the lad which you see,
In fighting, hath tumbld me in.’

25

‘He shall not go scot-free,’ the others reply'd;
So strait they were seizing him there,
To duck him likewise; but Robin Hood cries,
He is a stout fellow, forbear.

26

There's no one shall wrong thee, friend, be not afraid;
These bowmen upon me do wait;
There's threescore and nine; if thou wilt be mine,
Thou shalt have my livery strait.

27

And other accoutrements fit for a man;
Speak up, jolly blade, never fear;
I'll teach you also the use of the bow,
To shoot at the fat fallow-deer.

28

‘O here is my hand,’ the stranger reply'd,
‘I'll serve you with all my whole heart;
My name is John Little, a man of good mettle;
Nere doubt me, for I'll play my part.’

29

His name shall be alterd,’ quoth William Stutely,
‘And I will his godfather be;
Prepare then a feast, and none of the least,
For we will be merry,’ quoth he.

136

30

They presently fetchd in a brace of fat does,
With humming strong liquor likewise;
They lovd what was good; so, in the greenwood,
This pretty sweet babe they baptize.

31

He was, I must tell you, but seven foot high,
And, may be, an ell in the waste;
A pretty sweet lad; much feasting they had;
Bold Robin the christning grac'd.

32

With all his bowmen, which stood in a ring,
And were of the Notti[n]gham breed;
Brave Stutely comes then, with seven yeomen,
And did in this manner proceed.

33

‘This infant was called John Little,’ quoth he,
‘Which name shall be changed anon;
The words we'll transpose, so where-ever he goes,
His name shall be calld Little John.’

34

They all with a shout made the elements ring,
So soon as the office was ore;
To feasting they went, with true merriment,
And tippld strong liquor gillore.

35

Then Robin he took the pretty sweet babe,
And cloathd him from top to the toe
In garments of green, most gay to be seen,
And gave him a curious long bow.

36

‘Thou shalt be an archer as well as the best,
And range in the greenwood with us;
Where we'll not want gold nor silver, behold,
While bishops have ought in their purse.

37

‘We live here like squires, or lords of renown,
Without ere a foot of free land;
We feast on good cheer, with wine, ale, and beer,
And evry thing at our command.’

38

Then musick and dancing did finish the day;
At length, when the sun waxed low,
Then all the whole train the grove did refrain,
And unto their caves they did go.

39

And so ever after, as long as he livd,
Altho he was proper and tall,
Yet nevertheless, the truth to express,
Still Little John they did him call.

137

126
ROBIN HOOD AND THE TANNER

ROBIN HOOD AND THE TANNER

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 9 b.

b. Garland of 1663, No 10.

c. Garland of 1670, No 9.

d. Pepys, II, 111, No 98.

1

In Nottingham there lives a jolly tanner,
With a hey down down a down down
His name is Arthur a Bland;
There is nere a squire in Nottinghamshire
Dare bid bold Arthur stand.

2

With a long pike-staff upon his shoulder,
So well he can clear his way;
By two and by three he makes them to flee,
For he hath no list to stay.

3

And as he went forth, in a summer's morning,
Into the forrest of merry Sherwood,
To view the red deer, that range here and there,
There met he with bold Robin Hood.

138

4

As soon as bold Robin Hood did him espy,
He thought some sport he would make;
Therefore out of hand he bid him to stand,
And thus to him he spake:

5

Why, what art thou, thou bold fellow,
That ranges so boldly here?
In sooth, to be brief, thou lookst like a thief,
That comes to steal our king's deer.

6

For I am a keeper in this forrest;
The king puts me in trust
To look to his deer, that range here and there,
Therefore stay thee I must.

7

‘If thou beest a keeper in this forrest,
And hast such a great command,
Yet thou must have more partakers in store,
Before thou make me to stand.’

8

‘Nay, I have no more partakers in store,
Or any that I do need;
But I have a staff of another oke graff,
I know it will do the deed.’

9

‘For thy sword and thy bow I care not a straw,
Nor all thine arrows to boot;
If I get a knop upon thy bare scop,
Thou canst as well shite as shoote.’

10

‘Speak cleanly, good fellow,’ said jolly Robin,
‘And give better terms to me;
Else I'le thee correct for thy neglect,
And make thee more mannerly.’

11

‘Marry gep with a wenion!’ quoth Arthur a Bland,
‘Art thou such a goodly man?
I care not a fig for thy looking so big;
Mend thou thyself where thou can.’

12

Then Robin Hood he unbuckled his belt,
He laid down his bow so long;
He took up a staff of another oke graff,
That was both stiff and strong.

13

‘I'le yield to thy weapon,’ said jolly Robin,
‘Since thou wilt not yield to mine;
For I have a staff of another oke graff,
Not half a foot longer then thine.

14

‘But let me measure,’ said jolly Robin,
‘Before we begin our fray;
For I'le not have mine to be longer then thine,
For that will be called foul play.’

15

‘I pass not for length,’ bold Arthur reply'd,
‘My staff is of oke so free;
Eight foot and a half, it will knock down a calf,
And I hope it will knock down thee.’

16

Then Robin Hood could no longer forbear;
He gave him such a knock,
Quickly and soon the blood came down,
Before it was ten a clock.

17

Then Arthur he soon recovered himself,
And gave him such a knock on the crown,
That on every hair of bold Robin Hoods head,
The blood came trickling down.

18

Then Robin Hood raged like a wild bore,
As soon as he saw his own blood;
Then Bland was in hast, he laid on so fast,
As though he had been staking of wood.

19

And about, and about, and about they went,
Like two wild bores in a chase;
Striving to aim each other to maim,
Leg, arm, or any other place.

20

And knock for knock they lustily dealt,
Which held for two hours and more;
That all the wood rang at every bang,
They ply'd their work so sore.

21

‘Hold thy hand, hold thy hand,’ said Robin Hood,
‘And let our quarrel fall;
For here we may thresh our bones into mesh,
And get no coyn at all.

22

‘And in the forrest of merry Sherwood
Hereafter thou shalt be free:’
‘God-a-mercy for naught, my freedom I bought,
I may thank my good staff, and not thee.’

23

‘What tradesman art thou?’ said jolly Robin,
‘Good fellow, I prethee me show:
And also me tell in what place thou dost dwel,
For both these fain would I know.’

139

24

‘I am a tanner,’ bold Arthur reply'd,
‘In Nottingham long have I wrought;
And if thou'lt come there, I vow and do swear
I will tan thy hide for naught.’

25

‘God a mercy, good fellow,’ said jolly Robin,
‘Since thou art so kind to me;
And if thou wilt tan my hide for naught,
I will do as much for thee.

26

‘But if thou'lt forsake thy tanners trade,
And live in green wood with me,
My name's Robin Hood, I swear by the rood
I will give thee both gold and fee.’

27

‘If thou be Robin Hood,’ bold Arthur reply'd,
‘As I think well thou art,
Then here's my hand, my name's Arthur a Bland,
We two will never depart.

28

‘But tell me, O tell me, where is Little John?
Of him fain would I hear;
For we are alide by the mothers side,
And he is my kinsman near.’

29

Then Robin Hood blew on the beaugle horn,
He blew full lowd and shrill,
But quickly anon appeard Little John,
Come tripping down a green hill.

30

‘O what is the matter?’ then said Little John,
‘Master, I pray you tell;
Why do you stand with your staff in your hand?
I fear all is not well.’

31

‘O man, I do stand, and he makes me to stand,
The tanner that stands thee beside;
He is a bonny blade, and master of his trade,
For soundly he hath tand my hide.’

32

‘He is to be commended,’ then said Little John,
‘If such a feat he can do;
If he be so stout, we will have a bout,
And he shall tan my hide too.’

33

‘Hold thy hand, hold thy hand,’ said Robin Hood,
‘For as I do understand,
He's a yeoman good, and of thine own blood,
For his name is Arthur a Bland.’

34

Then Little John threw his staff away,
As far as he could it fling,
And ran out of hand to Arthur a Bland,
And about his neck did cling.

35

With loving respect, there was no neglect,
They were neither nice nor coy,
Each other did face, with a lovely grace,
And both did weep for joy.

36

Then Robin Hood took them both by the hand,
And danc'd round about the oke tree;
‘For three merry men, and three merry men,
And three merry men we be.

37

‘And ever hereafter, as long as I live,
We three will be all one;
The wood shall ring, and the old wife sing,
Of Robin Hood, Arthur, and John.’

140

127
ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER

ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 17 b.

b. Pepys, II, 107, No 94.

c. Douce, III, 118 b.

141

1

In summer time, when leaves grow green,
Down a down a down
And birds sing on every tree,
Hey down a down a down

Robin Hood went to Nottingham,
Down a down a down
As fast as hee could dree.
Hey down a down a down

2

And as hee came to Nottingham
A Tinker he did meet,
And seeing him a lusty blade,
He did him kindly greet.

3

‘Where dost thou live?’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘I pray thee now mee tell;
Sad news I hear there is abroad,
I fear all is not well.’

4

‘What is that news?’ the Tinker said;
‘Tell mee without delay;
I am a tinker by my trade,
And do live at Banbura.’

5

‘As for the news,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘It is but as I hear;
Two tinkers they were set ith' stocks,
For drinking ale and bear.’

6

‘If that be all,’ the Tinker said,
‘As I may say to you,
Your news it is not worth a fart,
Since that they all bee true.

7

‘For drinking of good ale and bear,
You wil not lose your part:’
‘No, by my faith,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘I love it with all my heart.

8

‘What news abroad?’ quoth Robin Hood;
‘Tell mee what thou dost hear;
Being thou goest from town to town,
Some news thou need not fear.’

9

‘All the news,’ the Tinker said,
‘I hear, it is for good;
It is to seek a bold outlaw,
Which they call Robin Hood.

10

‘I have a warrant from the king,
To take him where I can;
If you can tell me where hee is,
I will make you a man.

11

‘The king will give a hundred pound
That hee could but him see;
And if wee can but now him get,
It will serve you and mee.’

12

‘Let me see that warrant,’ said Robin Hood;
‘I'le see if it bee right;
And I will do the best I can
For to take him this night.’

13

‘That will I not,’ the Tinker said;
‘None with it I will trust;
And where hee is if you'l not tell,
Take him by force I must.’

14

But Robin Hood perceiving well
How then the game would go,
‘If you will go to Nottingham,
Wee shall find him I know.’

15

The Tinker had a crab-tree staff,
Which was both good and strong;
Robin hee had a good strong blade,
So they went both along.

142

16

And when they came to Nottingham,
There they both tooke one inn;
And they calld for ale and wine,
To drink it was no sin.

17

But ale and wine they drank so fast
That the Tinker hee forgot
What thing he was about to do;
It fell so to his lot

18

That while the Tinker fell asleep,
Hee made then haste away,
And left the Tinker in the lurch,
For the great shot to pay.

19

But when the Tinker wakened,
And saw that he was gone,
He calld then even for his host,
And thus hee made his moan.

20

‘I had a warrant from the king,
Which might have done me good,
That is to take a bold outlaw,
Some call him Robin Hood.

21

‘But now my warrant and mony's gone,
Nothing I have to pay;
And he that promisd to be my friend,
He is gone and fled away.’

22

‘That friend you tell on,’ said the host,
‘They call him Robin Hood;
And when that first hee met with you,
He ment you little good.’

23

‘Had I known it had been hee,
When that I had him here,
Th' one of us should have tri'd our strength
Which should have paid full dear.

24

‘In the mean time I must away;
No longer here I'le bide;
But I will go and seek him out,
What ever do me betide.

25

‘But one thing I would gladly know,
What here I have to pay;’
‘Ten shillings just,’ then said the host;
‘I'le pay without delay.

26

‘Or elce take here my working-bag,
And my good hammer too;
And if that I light but on the knave,
I will then soon pay you.’

27

‘The onely way,’ then said the host,
‘And not to stand in fear,
Is to seek him among the parks,
Killing of the kings deer.’

28

The Tinker hee then went with speed,
And made then no delay,
Till he had found then Robin Hood,
That they might have a fray.

29

At last hee spy'd him in a park,
Hunting then of the deer;
‘What knave is that,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘That doth come mee so near?’

30

‘No knave, no knave,’ the Tinker said,
‘And that you soon shall know;
Whether of us hath done most wrong,
My crab-tree staff shall show.’

31

Then Robin drew his gallant blade,
Made then of trusty steel;
But the Tinker laid on him so fast
That he made Robin reel.

32

Then Robins anger did arise;
He fought full manfully,
Vntil hee had made the Tinker
Almost then fit to fly.

33

With that they had a bout again,
They ply'd their weapons fast;
The Tinker threshed his bones so sore
He made him yeeld at last.

34

‘A boon, a boon,’ Robin hee cryes,
‘If thou wilt grant it mee;’
‘Before I do it,’ the Tinker said,
‘I'le hang thee on this tree.’

35

But the Tinker looking him about,
Robin his horn did blow;
Then came unto him Little John,
And William Scadlock too.

36

‘What is the matter,’ quoth Little John,
‘You sit in th' highway side?’
‘Here is a Tinker that stands by,
That hath paid well my hide.’

143

37

‘That Tinker,’ then said Little John,
‘Fain that blade I would see,
And I would try what I could do,
If hee'l do as much for mee.’

38

But Robin hee then wishd them both
They should the quarrel cease,
‘That henceforth wee may bee as one,
And ever live in peace.

39

‘And for the jovial Tinker's part,
A hundred pound I'le give,
In th' year to maintain him on,
As long as he doth live.

40

‘In manhood hee is a mettle man,
And a mettle man by trade;
I never thought that any man
Should have made me so fraid.

41

‘And if hee will bee one of us,
Wee will take all one fare,
And whatsoever wee do get,
He shall have his full share.’

42

So the Tinker was content
With them to go along,
And with them a part to take,
And so I end my song.

144

128
ROBIN HOOD NEWLY REVIVED

ROBIN HOOD NEWLY REVIVED

[_]

‘Robin Hood Newly Reviv'd.’ a. Wood, 401, leaf 27 b. b. Roxburghe, III, 18, in the Ballad Society's reprint, II, 426. c. Garland of 1663, No 3. d. Garland of 1670, No 2. e. Pepys, II, 101, No 88.

145

1

Come listen a while, you gentlemen all,
With a hey down down a down down
That are in this bower within,
For a story of gallant bold Robin Hood
I purpose now to begin.

2

‘What time of the day?’ quoth Robin Hood then;
Quoth Little John, 'Tis in the prime;
‘Why then we will to the green wood gang,
For we have no vittles to dine.’

3

As Robin Hood walkt the forrest along—
It was in the mid of the day—
There was he met of a deft young man
As ever walkt on the way.

4

His doublet it was of silk, he said,
His stockings like scarlet shone,
And he walkt on along the way,
To Robin Hood then unknown.

5

A herd of deer was in the bend,
All feeding before his face:
‘Now the best of ye I'le have to my dinner,
And that in a little space.’

6

Now the stranger he made no mickle adoe,
But he bends and a right good bow,
And the best buck in the herd he slew,
Forty good yards him full froe.

7

‘Well shot, well shot,’ quoth Robin Hood then,
‘That shot it was shot in time;
And if thou wilt accept of the place,
Thou shalt be a bold yeoman of mine.’

8

‘Go play the chiven,’ the stranger said,
‘Make haste and quickly go;
Or with my fist, be sure of this,
I'le give thee buffets store.’

9

‘Thou hadst not best buffet me,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘For though I seem forlorn,
Yet I can have those that will take my part,
If I but blow my horn.’

10

‘Thou wast not best wind thy horn,’ the stranger said,
‘Beest thou never so much in hast,
For I can draw out a good broad sword,
And quickly cut the blast.’

11

Then Robin Hood bent a very good bow,
To shoot, and that he would fain;
The stranger he bent a very good bow,
To shoot at bold Robin again.

12

‘O hold thy hand, hold thy hand,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘To shoot it would be in vain;
For if we should shoot the one at the other,
The one of us may be slain.

146

13

‘But let's take our swords and our broad bucklers,
And gang under yonder tree:’
‘As I hope to be sav'd,’ the stranger said,
‘One foot I will not flee.’

14

Then Robin Hood lent the stranger a blow
Most scar'd him out of his wit;
‘Thou never felt blow,’ the stranger he said,
‘That shall be better quit.’

15

The stranger he drew out a good broad sword,
And hit Robin on the crown,
That from every haire of bold Robins head
The blood ran trickling down.

16

‘God a mercy, good fellow!’ quoth Robin Hood then,
‘And for this that thou hast done;
Tell me, good fellow, what thou art,
Tell me where thou doest woon.’

17

The stranger then answered bold Robin Hood,
I'le tell thee where I did dwell;
In Maxfield was I bred and born,
My name is Young Gamwell.

18

For killing of my own fathers steward,
I am forc'd to this English wood,
And for to seek an vncle of mine;
Some call him Robin Hood.

19

‘But thou art a cousin of Robin Hoods then?
The sooner we should have done:’
‘As I hope to be sav'd,’ the stranger then said,
‘I am his own sisters son.’

20

But, Lord! what kissing and courting was there,
When these two cousins did greet!
And they went all that summers day,
And Little John did meet.

21

But when they met with Little John,
He there unto [him] did say,
O master, where have you been,
You have tarried so long away?

22

‘I met with a stranger,’ quoth Robin Hood then,
‘Full sore he hath beaten me:’
‘Then I'le have a bout with him,’ quoth Little John,
‘And try if he can beat me.’

23

‘Oh [no], oh no,’ quoth Robin Hood then,
‘Little John, it may [not] be so;
For he's my own dear sisters son,
And cousins I have no mo.

24

‘But he shall be a bold yeoman of mine,
My chief man next to thee;
And I Robin Hood, and thou Little John,
And Scarlet he shall be:

25

‘And wee'l be three of the bravest outlaws
That is in the North Country.’
If you will have any more of bold Robin Hood,
In his second part it will be.

147

129
ROBIN HOOD AND THE PRINCE OF ARAGON

ROBIN HOOD AND THE PRINCE OF ARAGON

[_]

‘Robin Hood, Will. Scadlock and Little John.’

[_]

a. Roxburghe, I, 358, in the Ballad Society's reprint, II, 431. b. Pepys, II, 120, No 106.

1

Now Robin Hood, Will Scadlock and Little John
Are walking over the plain,
With a good fat buck which Will Scadlock
With his strong bow had slain.

2

‘Jog on, jog on,’ cries Robin Hood,
‘The day it runs full fast;
For though my nephew me a breakfast gave,
I have not yet broke my fast.

3

‘Then to yonder lodge let us take our way,
I think it wondrous good,
Where my nephew by my bold yeomen
Shall be welcomd unto the green wood.’

4

With that he took the bugle-horn,
Full well he could it blow;
Streight from the woods came marching down
One hundred tall fellows and mo.

5

‘Stand, stand to your arms!’ crys Will Scadlock,
‘Lo! the enemies are within ken:’

148

With that Robin Hood he laughd aloud,
Crys, They are my bold yeomen.

6

Who, when they arriv'd and Robin espy'd,
Cry'd, Master, what is your will?
We thought you had in danger been,
Your horn did sound so shrill.

7

‘Now nay, now nay,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘The danger is past and gone;
I would have you to welcome my nephew here,
That hath paid me two for one.’

8

In feasting and sporting they passed the day,
Till Phœbus sunk into the deep;
Then each one to his quarters hy'd,
His guard there for to keep.

9

Long had they not walked within the green wood,
But Robin he was espy'd
Of a beautiful damsel all alone,
That on a black palfrey did ride.

10

Her riding-suit was of sable hew black,
Sypress over her face,
Through which her rose-like cheeks did blush,
All with a comely grace.

11

‘Come, tell me the cause, thou pritty one,’
Quoth Robin, ‘and tell me aright,
From whence thou comest, and whither thou goest,
All in this mournful plight?’

12

‘From London I came,’ the damsel reply'd,
‘From London upon the Thames,
Which circled is, O grief to tell!
Besieg'd with forraign arms.

13

‘By the proud Prince of Aragon,
Who swears by his martial hand
To have the princess for his spouse,
Or else to waste this land:

14

‘Except that champions can be found
That dare fight three to three,
Against the prince and giants twain,
Most horrid for to see:

15

‘Whose grisly looks, and eyes like brands,
Strike terrour where they come,
With serpents hissing on their helms,
Instead of feathered plume.

16

‘The princess shall be the victors prize,
The king hath vowd and said,
And he that shall the conquest win
Shall have her to his bride.

17

‘Now we are four damsels sent abroad,
To the east, west, north, and south,
To try whose fortune is so good
To find these champions forth.

18

‘But all in vaine we have sought about;
Yet none so bold there are
That dare adventure life and blood,
To free a lady fair.’

19

‘When is the day?’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘Tell me this and no more:’
‘On Midsummer next,’ the damsel said,
‘Which is June the twenty-four.’

20

With that the teares trickled down her cheeks,
And silent was her tongue;
With sighs and sobs she took her leave,
Away her palfrey sprung.

21

This news struck Robin to the heart,
He fell down on the grass;
His actions and his troubled mind
Shewd he perplexed was.

22

‘Where lies your grief?’ quoth Will Scadlock,
‘O master, tell to me;
If the damsels eyes have piercd your heart,
I'll fetch her back to thee.’

23

‘Now nay, now nay,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘She doth not cause my smart;
But it is the poor distressed princess
That wounds me to the heart.

24

‘I will go fight the giants all
To set the lady free:’
‘The devil take my soul,’ quoth Little John,
‘If I part with thy company.’

25

‘Must I stay behind?’ quoth Will Scadlock;
‘No, no, that must not be;
I'le make the third man in the fight,
So we shall be three to three.’

26

These words cheerd Robin at the heart,
Joy shone within his face;
Within his arms he huggd them both,
And kindly did imbrace.

27

Quoth he, We'll put on mothly gray,
With long staves in our hands,
A scrip and bottle by our sides,
As come from the Holy Land.

28

So may we pass along the high-way;
None will ask from whence we came,
But take us pilgrims for to be,
Or else some holy men.

149

29

Now they are on their journey gone,
As fast as they may speed,
Yet for all haste, ere they arriv'd,
The princess forth was led:

30

To be deliverd to the prince,
Who in the list did stand,
Prepar'd to fight, or else receive
His lady by the hand.

31

With that he walkt about the lists,
With giants by his side:
‘Bring forth,’ said he, ‘your champions,
Or bring me forth my bride.

32

‘This is the four and twentieth day,
The day prefixt upon;
Bring forth my bride, or London burns,
I swear by Acaron.’

33

Then cries the king, and queen likewise,
Both weeping as they speak,
Lo! we have brought our daughter dear,
Whom we are forcd to forsake.

34

With that stept out bold Robin Hood,
Crys, My liege, it must not be so;
Such beauty as the fair princess
Is not for a tyrants mow.

35

The prince he then began to storm;
Crys, Fool, fanatick, baboon!
How dares thou stop my valours prize?
I'll kill thee with a frown.

36

‘Thou tyrant Turk, thou infidel,’
Thus Robin began to reply,
‘Thy frowns I scorn; lo! here's my gage,
And thus I thee defie.

37

‘And for these two Goliahs there,
That stand on either side,
Here are two little Davids by,
That soon can tame their pride.’

38

Then did the king for armour send,
For lances, swords, and shields:
And thus all three in armour bright
Came marching to the field.

39

The trumpets began to sound a charge,
Each singled out his man;
Their arms in pieces soon were hewd,
Blood sprang from every vain.

40

The prince he reacht Robin a blow—
He struck with might and main—
Which forcd him to reel about the field,
As though he had been slain.

41

‘God-a-mercy,’ quoth Robin, ‘for that blow!
The quarrel shall soon be try'd;
This stroke shall shew a full divorce
Betwixt thee and thy bride.’

42

So from his shoulders he's cut his head,
Which on the ground did fall,
And grumbling sore at Robin Hood,
To be so dealt withal.

43

The giants then began to rage,
To see their prince lie dead:
‘Thou's be the next,’ quoth Little John,
‘Unless thou well guard thy head.’

44

With that his faulchion he whirld about—
It was both keen and sharp—
He clove the giant to the belt,
And cut in twain his heart.

45

Will Scadlock well had playd his part,
The giant he had brought to his knee;
Quoth he, The devil cannot break his fast,
Unless he have you all three.

46

So with his faulchion he run him through,
A deep and gashly wound;
Who damd and foamd, cursd and blasphemd,
And then fell to the ground.

47

Now all the lists with cheers were filld,
The skies they did resound,
Which brought the princess to herself,
Who was faln in a swound.

48

The king and queen and princess fair
Came walking to the place,
And gave the champions many thanks,
And did them further grace.

49

‘Tell me,’ quoth the king, ‘whence you are,
That thus disguised came,
Whose valour speaks that noble blood
Doth run through every vain.’

50

‘A boon, a boon,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘On my knees I beg and crave:’
‘By my crown,’ quoth the king, ‘I grant;
Ask what, and thou shalt have.’

51

‘Then pardon I beg for my merry men,
Which are within the green wood,
For Little John, and Will Scadlock,
And for me, bold Robin Hood.’

52

‘Art thou Robin Hood?’ then quoth the king;
‘For the valour you have shewn,
Your pardons I doe freely grant,
And welcome every one.

150

53

‘The princess I promised the victors prize;
She cannot have you all three:’
‘She shall chuse,’ quoth Robin; saith Little John,
Then little share falls to me.

54

Then did the princess view all three,
With a comely lovely grace,
Who took Will Scadlock by the hand,
Quoth, Here I make my choice.

55

With that a noble lord stept forth,
Of Maxfield earl was he,
Who lookt Will Scadlock in the face,
Then wept most bitterly.

56

Quoth he, I had a son like thee,
Whom I lovd wondrous well;
But he is gone, or rather dead;
His name is Young Gamwell.

57

Then did Will Scadlock fall on his knees,
Cries, Father! father! here,
Here kneels your son, your Young Gamwell
You said you lovd so dear.

58

But, lord! what imbracing and kissing was there,
When all these friends were met!
They are gone to the wedding, and so to bedding,
And so I bid you good night.

130
ROBIN HOOD AND THE SCOTCHMAN

151

ROBIN HOOD AND THE SCOTCHMAN—A

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 27 b. b. Roxburghe, III, 18, in the Ballad Society's reprint, II, 426. c. Garland of 1663, No 3. d. Garland of 1670, No 2. e. Pepys, II, 101, No 88.

1

Then bold Robin Hood to the north he would go,
With a hey down down a down down
With valour and mickle might,
With sword by his side, which oft had been tri'd,
To fight and recover his right.

2

The first that he met was a bony bold Scot,
His servant he said he would be;
‘No,’ quoth Robin Hood, ‘it cannot be good,
For thou wilt prove false unto me.

3

‘Thou hast not bin true to sire nor cuz:’
‘Nay, marry,’ the Scot he said,
‘As true as your heart, I'le never part,
Gude master, be not afraid.’

[OMITTED]

4

Then Robin Hood turnd his face to the east;
‘Fight on my merry men stout,
Our cause is good,’ quoth brave Robin Hood,
‘And we shall not be beaten out.’

5

The battel grows hot on every side,
The Scotchman made great moan;
Quoth Jockey, Gude faith, they fight on each side;
Would I were with my wife Ione!

6

The enemy compast brave Robin about,
'Tis long ere the battel ends;
Ther's neither will yeeld nor give up the field,
For both are supplied with friends.

[OMITTED]

7

This song it was made in Robin Hoods dayes;
Let's pray unto Iove above
To give us true peace, that mischief may cease,
And war may give place unto love.

ROBIN HOOD AND THE SCOTCHMAN—B

[_]

Gutch's Robin Hood, II, 392, from an Irish garland, printed at Monaghan, 1796.

1

Now bold Robin Hood to the north would go,
With valour and mickle might,
With sword by his side, which oft had been try'd,
To fight and recover his right.

2

The first that he met was a jolly stout Scot,
His servant he said he would be;
‘No,’ quoth Robin Hood, ‘it cannot be good,
For thou wilt prove false unto me.

3

‘Thou hast not been true to sire or cuz;’
‘Nay, marry,’ the Scot he said,
‘As true as your heart, I never will part;
Good master, be not afraid.’

4

‘But eer I employ you,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘With you I must have a bout;’
The Scotchman reply'd, Let the battle be try'd,
For I know I will beat you out.

5

Thus saying, the contest did quickly begin,
Which lasted two hours and more;
The blows Sawney gave bold Robin so brave
The battle soon made him give oer.

6

‘Have mercy, thou Scotchman,’ bold Robin Hood cry'd,
‘Full dearly this boon have I bought;
We will both agree, and my man you shall be,
For a stouter I never have fought.’

7

Then Sawny consented with Robin to go,
To be of his bowmen so gay;
Thus ended the fight, and with mickle delight
To Sherwood they hasted away.

152

131
ROBIN HOOD AND THE RANGER

Robin Hood and the Ranger

ROBIN HOOD AND THE RANGER

[_]

a. Robin Hood's Garland, London, C. Dicey, in Bow Church-Yard, n. d., but before 1741, p. 78. b. R. H.'s Garland, London, W. & C. Dicey, n. d. c. R. H.'s Garland, London, L. How, in Peticoat Lane, n. d. d. The English Archer, etc., York, N. Nickson, in Feasegate, n. d. e. The English Archer, etc., Paisley, John Neilson, 1786. f. R. H.'s Garland, York, T. Wilson & R. Spence, n. d. (All in the Bodleian Library.)

1

When Phœbus had melted the sickles of ice, With a hey down, &c.
And likewise the mountains of snow,
Bold Robin Hood he would ramble to see,
To frolick abroad with his bow.

2

He left all his merry men waiting behind,
Whilst through the green vallies he passd;
There did he behold a forester bold,
Who cry'd out, Friend, whither so fast?

3

‘I'm going,’ quoth Robin, ‘to kill a fat buck,
For me and my merry men all;
Besides, eer I go, I'll have a fat doe,
Or else it shall cost me a fall.’

4

‘You'd best have a care,’ said the forester then,
‘For these are his majesty's deer;
Before you shall shoot, the thing I'll dispute,
For I am head-forester here.’

5

‘These thirteen long summers,’ quoth Robin, ‘I'm sure,
My arrows I here have let fly,
Where freely I range; methinks it is strange,
You should have more power than I.

6

‘This forest,’ quoth Robin, ‘I think is my own,
And so are the nimble deer too;
Therefore I declare, and solemnly swear,
I wont be affronted by you.’

7

The forester he had a long quarter-staff,
Likewise a broad sword by his side;
Without more ado, he presently drew,
Declaring the truth should be try'd.

8

Bold Robin Hood had a sword of the best,
Thus, eer he would take any wrong,
His courage was flush, he'd venture a brush,
And thus they fell to it ding dong.

153

9

The very first blow that the forester gave,
He made his broad weapon cry twang;
'Twas over the head, he fell down for dead,
O that was a damnable bang!

10

But Robin he soon did recover himself,
And bravely fell to it again;
The very next stroke their weapons were broke,
Yet never a man there was slain.

11

At quarter-staff then they resolved to play,
Because they would have t'other bout;
And brave Robin Hood right valiantly stood,
Unwilling he was to give out.

12

Bold Robin he gave him very hard blows,
The other returnd them as fast;
At every stroke their jackets did smoke,
Three hours the combat did last.

13

At length in a rage the bold forester grew,
And cudgeld bold Robin so sore
That he could not stand, so shaking his hand,
He said, Let us freely give oer.

14

Thou art a brave fellow, I needs must confess
I never knew any so good;
Thou'rt fitting to be a yeoman for me,
And range in the merry green wood.

15

I'll give thee this ring as a token of love,
For bravely thou'st acted thy part;
That man that can fight, in him I delight,
And love him with all my whole heart.

16

Then Robin Hood setting his horn to his mouth,
A blast he merrily blows;
His yeomen did hear, and strait did appear,
A hundred, with trusty long bows.

17

Now Little John came at the head of them all,
Cloathd in a rich mantle of green;
And likewise the rest were gloriously drest,
A delicate sight to be seen.

18

‘Lo, these are my yeomen,’ said Robin Hood,
‘And thou shalt be one of the train;
A mantle and bow, a quiver also,
I give them whom I entertain.’

19

The forester willingly enterd the list,
They were such a beautiful sight;
Then with a long bow they shot a fat doe,
And made a rich supper that night.

20

What singing and dancing was in the green wood,
For joy of another new mate!
With mirth and delight they spent the long night,
And liv'd at a plentiful rate.

21

The forester neer was so merry before
As then he was with these brave souls,
Who never would fail, in wine, beer or ale,
To take off their cherishing bowls.

22

Then Robin Hood gave him a mantle of green,
Broad arrows, and a curious long bow;
This done, the next day, so gallant and gay,
He marched them all on a row.

23

Quoth he, My brave yeomen, be true to your trust,
And then we may range the woods wide:
They all did declare, and solemnly swear,
They'd conquer, or die by his side.

154

132
THE BOLD PEDLAR AND ROBIN HOOD

THE BOLD PEDLAR AND ROBIN HOOD

[_]

J. H. Dixon, Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England, p.71, Percy Society, vol. xvii, 1846.

1

There chanced to be a pedlar bold,
A pedlar bold he chanced to be;
He rolled his pack all on his back,
And he came tripping oer the lee.
Down a down a down a down,
Down a down a down

2

By chance he met two troublesome blades,
Two troublesome blades they chanced to be;
The one of them was bold Robin Hood,
And the other was Little John so free.

155

3

‘O pedlar, pedlar, what is in thy pack?
Come speedilie and tell to me:’
‘I've several suits of the gay green silks,
And silken bow-strings two or three.’

4

‘If you have several suits of the gay green silk,
And silken bow-strings two or three,
Then it's by my body,’ cries Little John,
‘One half your pack shall belong to me.’

5

‘O nay, o nay,’ says the pedlar bold,
‘O nay, o nay, that never can be;
For there's never a man from fair Nottingham
Can take one half my pack from me.’

6

Then the pedlar he pulled off his pack,
And put it a little below his knee,
Saying, If you do move me one perch from this,
My pack and all shall gang with thee.

7

Then Little John he drew his sword,
The pedlar by his pack did stand;
They fought until they both did sweat,
Till he cried, Pedlar, pray hold your hand!

8

Then Robin Hood he was standing by,
And he did laugh most heartilie;
Saying, I could find a man, of a smaller scale,
Could thrash the pedlar and also thee.

9

‘Go you try, master,’ says Little John,
‘Go you try, master, most speedilie,
Or by my body,’ says Little John,
‘I am sure this night you will not know me.’

10

Then Robin Hood he drew his sword,
And the pedlar by his pack did stand;
They fought till the blood in streams did flow,
Till he cried, Pedlar, pray hold your hand!

11

Pedlar, pedlar, what is thy name?
Come speedilie and tell to me:
‘My name! my name I neer will tell,
Till both your names you have told to me.’

12

‘The one of us is bold Robin Hood,
And the other Little John so free:’
‘Now,’ says the pedlar, ‘it lays to my good will,
Whether my name I chuse to tell to thee.

13

‘I am Gamble Gold of the gay green woods,
And travelled far beyond the sea;
For killing a man in my father's land
From my country I was forced to flee.’

14

‘If you are Gamble Gold of the gay green woods,
And travelled far beyond the sea,
You are my mother's own sister's son;
What nearer cousins then can we be?’

15

They sheathed their swords with friendly words,
So merrilie they did agree;
They went to a tavern, and there they dined,
And bottles cracked most merrilie.

133
ROBIN HOOD AND THE BEGGAR, I

ROBIN HOOD AND THE BEGGAR, I

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 23 b.

b. Garland of 1663, No 8.

c. Garland of 1670, No 7.

d. Pepys, II, 116, No 100.

156

1

Come light and listen, you gentlemen all,
Hey down, down, and a down
That mirth do love for to hear,
And a story true I'le tell unto you,
If that you will but draw near.

2

In elder times, when merriment was,
And archery was holden good,
There was an outlaw, as many did know,
Which men called Robin Hood.

3

Vpon a time it chanced so
Bold Robin was merry disposed,
His time to spend he did intend,
Either with friends or foes.

4

Then he got vp on a gallant brave steed,
The which was worth angels ten;
With a mantle of green, most brave to be seen,
He left all his merry men.

5

And riding towards fair Nottingham,
Some pastime for to spy,
There was he aware of a jolly beggar
As ere he beheld with his eye.

6

An old patcht coat the beggar had on,
Which he daily did vse for to wear;
And many a bag about him did wag,
Which made Robin Hood to him repair.

7

‘God speed, God speed,’ said Robin Hood,
‘What countryman? tell to me:’
‘I am Yorkeshire, sir; but, ere you go far,
Some charity give vnto me.’

8

‘Why, what wouldst thou have?’ said Robin Hood,
‘I pray thee tell vnto me:’
‘No lands nor livings,’ the beggar he said,
‘But a penny for charitie.’

9

‘I have no money,’ said Robin Hood then,
‘But, a ranger within the wood,
I am an outlaw, as many do know,
My name it is Robin Hood.

10

‘But yet I must tell thee, bonny beggar,
That a bout with [thee] I must try;

157

Thy coat of gray, lay down I say,
And my mantle of green shall lye by.’

11

‘Content, content,’ the beggar he cry'd,
‘Thy part it will be the worse;
For I hope this bout to give thee the rout,
And then have at thy purse.’

12

The beggar he had a mickle long staffe,
And Robin had a nut-brown sword;
So the beggar drew nigh, and at Robin let fly,
But gave him never a word.

13

‘Fight on, fight on,’ said Robin Hood then,
‘This game well pleaseth me;’
For every blow that Robin did give,
The beggar gave buffets three.

14

And fighting there full hard and sore,
Not far from Nottingham town,
They never fled, till from Robin['s] head
The blood came trickling down.

15

‘O hold thy hand,’ said Robin Hood then,
‘And thou and I will agree;’
‘If that be true,’ the beggar he said,
‘Thy mantle come give vnto me.’

16

‘Nay a change, a change,’ cri'd Robin Hood;
‘Thy bags and coat give me,
And this mantle of mine I'le to thee resign,
My horse and my braverie.’

17

When Robin Hood had got the beggars clothes,
He looked round about;
‘Methinks,’ said he, ‘I seem to be
A beggar brave and stout.

18

‘For now I have a bag for my bread,
So have I another for corn;
I have one for salt, and another for malt,
And one for my little horn.

19

‘And now I will a begging goe,
Some charitie for to find:’
And if any more of Robin you'l know,
In this second part it's behind.

20

Now Robin he is to Nottingham bound,
With his bags hanging down to his knee,
His staff, and his coat, scarce worth a groat,
Yet merrilie passed he.

21

As Robin he passed the streets along,
He heard a pittifull cry;
Three brethren deer, as he did hear,
Condemned were to dye.

22

Then Robin he highed to the sheriffs [house],
Some reliefe for to seek;
He skipt, and leapt, and capored full high,
As he went along the street.

23

But when to the sheriffs doore he came,
There a gentleman fine and brave,
‘Thou beggar,’ said he, ‘come tell vnto me
What is it that thou wouldest have?’

24

‘No meat, nor drink,’ said Robin Hood then,
‘That I come here to crave;
But to beg the lives of yeomen three,
And that I fain would have.’

25

‘That cannot be, thou bold beggar,
Their fact it is so cleer;
I tell to thee, hangd they must be,
For stealing of our kings deer.’

26

But when to the gallows they did come,
There was many a weeping eye:
‘O hold your peace,’ said Robin then,
‘For certainly they shall not dye.’

27

Then Robin he set his horn to his mouth,
And he blew but blastes three,
Till a hundred bold archers brave
Came kneeling down to his knee.

28

‘What is your will, master?’ they said,
‘We are here at your command:’
‘Shoot east, shoot west,’ said Robin Hood then,
‘And look that you spare no man.’

29

Then they shot east, and they shot west;
Their arrows were so keen
The sheriffe he, and his companie,
No longer must be seen.

30

Then he stept to these brethren three,
And away he had them tane;
But the sheriff was crost, and many a man lost,
That dead lay on the plain.

31

And away they went into the merry green wood,
And sung with a merry glee,
And Robin took these brethren good
To be of his yeomandrie.

158

134
ROBIN HOOD AND THE BEGGAR, II

ROBIN HOOD AND THE BEGGAR, II

[_]

a. ‘The History of Robin Hood and the Beggar,’ Aberdeen, Printed by and for A. Keith: Bodleian Library, Douce, HH 88, pasted between pp 68, 69 of Robin Hood's Garland, London, C. Dicey. A. Keith of Aberdeen printed from 1810 to 1835.

b. ‘A pretty dialogue betwixt Robin Hood and a Beggar,’ Newcastle, in Ritson's Robin Hood, 1795, I, 97.

159

1

Lyth and listen, gentlemen,
That's come of high born blood;
I'll tell you of a brave booting
That befel Robin Hood.

2

Robin Hood upon a day,
He went forth him alone,
And as he came from Barnesdale
Into a fair evening,

3

He met a beggar on the way,
That sturdily could gang;
He had a pike-staff in his hand,
That was baith stark and strang.

4

A clouted cloak about him was,
That held him from the cold;
The thinnest bit of it, I guess,
Was more than twenty fold.

160

5

His meal-pock hang about his neck,
Into a leathern fang,
Well fastened with a broad buckle,
That was both stark and strang.

6

He had three hats upon his head,
Together sticked fast;
He cared neither for wind nor weet,
In lands wherever he past.

7

Good Robin coost him in his way,
To see what he might be;
If any beggar had money,
He thought some part had he.

8

‘Tarry, tarry,’ good Robin says,
‘Tarry, and speak with me;’
He heard him as he heard [him] not,
And fast his way can hie.

9

‘It be's not so,’ says good Robin,
‘Nay, thou must tarry still;’
‘By my troth,’ says the bold beggar,
‘Of that I have no will.

10

‘It is far to my lodging-house,
And it is growing late;
If they have supt ere I come in,
I will look wondrous blate.’

11

‘Now, by my troth,’ says good Robin,
‘I see well by thy fare,
If thou chear well to thy supper,
Of mine thou takes no care;

12

‘Who wants my dinner all the day,
And wots not where to lie,
And should I to the tavern go,
I want money to buy.

13

‘Sir, thou must lend me some money,
Till we two meet again:’
The beggar answerd cankerdly,
I have no money to lend.

14

Thou art as young a man as I,
And seems to be as sweer;
If thou fast till thou get from me,
Thou shalt eat none this year.

15

‘Now, by my troth,’ says good Robin,
‘Since we are sembled so,
If thou have but a small farthing,
I'll have it ere thou go.

16

‘Therefore, lay down thy clouted cloak,
And do no longer stand,
And loose the strings of all thy pocks;
I'll ripe them with my hand.

17

‘And now to thee I make a vow,
If thou make any din,
I shall see if a broad arrow
Can pierce a beggar's skin.’

18

The beggar smil'd, and answer made:
Far better let me be;
Think not that I will be afraid
For thy nip crooked tree.

19

Or that I fear thee any whit
For thy curn nips of sticks;
I know no use for them so meet
As to be pudding-pricks.

20

Here I defy thee to do me ill,
For all thy boistrous fare;
Thou's get nothing from me but ill,
Would thou seek it evermair.

21

Good Robin bent his noble bow —
He was an angry man —
And in it set a broad arrow;
Yet er't was drawn a span,

22

The beggar, with his noble tree,
Reacht him so round a rout
That his bow and his broad arrow
In flinders flew about.

23

Good Robin bound him to his brand,
But that provd likewise vain;
The beggar lighted on his hand
With his pike-staff again.

24

I wot he might not draw a sword
For forty days and more;
Good Robin could not speak a word,
His heart was never so sore.

25

He could not fight, he could not flee,
He wist not what to do;
The beggar, with his noble tree,
Laid lusty flaps him to.

161

26

He paid good Robin back and side,
And beft him up and down,
And with his pike-staff still on laid
Till he fell in a swoon.

27

‘Fy! stand up, man,’ the beggar said,
‘'Tis shame to go to rest;
Stay still till thou get thy mony [told],
I think it were the best.

28

‘And syne go to the tavern-house,
And buy both wine and ale;
Hereat thy friends will crack full crouse,
Thou has been at a dale.’

29

Good Robin answerd never a word,
But lay still as a stane;
His cheeks were white as any clay,
And closed were his eyne.

30

The beggar thought him dead but fail,
And boldly bownd away;
I would you had been at the dale,
And gotten part of the play.

31

Now three of Robin's men, by chance,
Came walking on the way,
And found their master in a trance,
On ground where he did lie.

32

Up have they taken good Robin,
Making a piteous bier,
Yet saw they no man there at whom
They might the matter spear.

33

They looked him all round about,
But wounds on him saw none,
Yet at his mouth came bocking out
The blood of a good vein.

34

Cold water they have taken syne,
And cast into his face;
Then he began to lift his eyne,
And spake within short space.

35

‘Tell us, dear master,’ says his men,
‘How with you stands the case?’
Good Robin sighd ere he began
To tell of his disgrace.

36

‘I have been watchman in this wood
Near hand this forty year,
Yet I was never so hard bestead
As you have found me here.

37

‘A beggar with a clouted cloak,
In whom I feard no ill,
Hath with a pike-staff clawd my back;
I fear't shall never be well.

38

‘See, where he goes out oer yon hill,
With hat upon his head;
If ever you lovd your master well,
Go now revenge this deed.

39

‘And bring him back again to me,
If it lie in your might,
That I may see, before I die,
Him punisht in my sight.

40

‘And if you may not bring him back,
Let him not go loose on;
For to us all it were great shame
If he escapt again.’

41

‘One of us shall with you remain,
Because you're ill at ease;
The other two shall bring him back,
To use him as you please.’

42

‘Now, by my troth,’ says good Robin,
‘I trow there's enough said;
If he get scouth to weild his tree,
I fear you'll both be paid.’

43

‘Be ye not feard, our good master,
That we two can be dung
With any blutter base beggar,
That hath nought but a rung.

44

‘His staff shall stand him in no stead;
That you shall shortly see;
But back again he shall be led,
And fast bound shall he be,
To see if you will have him slain,
Or hanged on a tree.’

45

‘But cast you slily in his way,
Before he be aware,
And on his pike-staff first lay hands;
You'll speed the better far.’

162

46

Now leave we Robin with his man,
Again to play the child,
And learn himself to stand and gang
By haulds, for all his eild.

47

Now pass we to the bold beggar,
That raked oer the hill,
Who never mended his pace no more
Nor he had done no ill.

48

The young men knew the country well,
So soon where he would be,
And they have taken another way,
Was nearer by miles three.

49

They rudely ran with all their might,
Spar'd neither dub nor mire,
They stirred neither at laigh nor hight,
No travel made them tire,

50

Till they before the beggar wan,
And coost them in his way;
A little wood lay in a glen,
And there they both did stay.

51

They stood up closely by a tree,
In ilk side of the gate,
Until the beggar came them to,
That thought not of such fate.

52

And as he was betwixt them past,
They leapt upon him baith;
The one his pike-staff gripped fast,
They feared for its scaith.

53

The other he held in his sight
A drawn dirk to his breast,
And said, False carl, quit thy staff,
Or I shall be thy priest.

54

His pike-staff they have taken him frae,
And stuck it in the green;
He was full leath to let [it] gae,
If better might have been.

55

The beggar was the feardest man
Of one that ever might be;
To win away no way he can,
Nor help him with his tree.

56

He wist not wherefore he was tane,
Nor how many was there;
He thought his life-days had been gone,
And grew into despair.

57

‘Grant me my life,’ the beggar said,
‘For him that died on tree,
And take away that ugly knife,
Or then for fear I'll die.

58

‘I grievd you never in all my life,
By late nor yet by ayre;
Ye have great sin, if ye should slay
A silly poor beggar.’

59

‘Thou lies, false lown,’ they said again,
‘By all that may be sworn;
Thou hast near slain the gentlest man
That ever yet was born.

60

‘And back again thou shalt be led,
And fast bound shalt thou be,
To see if he will have thee slain,
Or hanged on a tree.’

61

The beggar then thought all was wrong;
They were set for his wrack;
He saw nothing appearing then
But ill upon worse back.

62

Were he out of their hands, he thought,
And had again his tree,
He should not be had back for nought,
With such as he did see.

63

Then he bethought him on a wile,
If it could take effect,
How he the young men might beguile,
And give them a begeck.

64

Thus for to do them shame or ill
His beastly breast was bent;
He found the wind grew something shril,
To further his intent.

65

He said, Brave gentlemen, be good,
And let the poor man be;
When ye have taken a beggar's blood,
It helps you not a flee.

66

It was but in my own defence,
If he hath gotten skaith;
But I will make a recompence,
Much better for you baith.

163

67

If ye will set me safe and free,
And do me no danger,
An hundred pounds I will you give,
And much more good silver,

68

That I have gathered these many years,
Under this clouted cloak,
And hid up wonder privately,
In bottom of my pock.

69

The young men to a council yeed,
And let the beggar gae;
They wist how well he had no speed
From them to run away.

70

They thought they would the money take,
Come after what so may,
And then they would not bring him back,
But in that part him slay.

71

By that good Robin would not know
That they had gotten coin;
It would content him for to show
That there they had him slain.

72

They said, False carl, soon have done
And tell forth that money;
For the ill turn thou hast done
'Tis but a simple fee.

73

And yet we will not have thee back,
Come after what so may,
If thou will do that which thou spake,
And make us present pay.

74

O then he loosd his clouted cloak,
And spread it on the ground,
And thereon laid he many a pock,
Betwixt them and the wind.

75

He took a great bag from his hase;
It was near full of meal;
Two pecks in it at least there was,
And more, I wot full well.

76

Upon his cloak he laid it down,
The mouth he opend wide,
To turn the same he made him bown,
The young men ready spy'd.

77

In every hand he took a nook
Of that great leathern meal,
And with a fling the meal he shook
Into their faces hail.

78

Wherewith he blinded them so close
A stime they could not see;
And then in heart he did rejoice,
And clapt his lusty tree.

79

He thought, if he had done them wrong
In mealing of their cloaths,
For to strike off the meal again
With his pike-staff he goes.

80

Or any one of them could red their eyne,
Or yet a glimmering could see,
Ilk ane of them a dozen had,
Well laid on with the tree.

81

The young men were right swift of foot,
And boldly ran away;
The beggar could them no more hit,
For all the haste he may.

82

‘What ails this haste?’ the beggar said,
‘May ye not tarry still,
Until your money be receivd?
I'll pay you with good will.

83

‘The shaking of my pocks, I fear,
Hath blown into your eyne;
But I have a good pike-staff here
Will ripe them out full clean.’

84

The young men answerd neer a word,
They were dumb as a stane;
In the thick wood the beggar fled,
Eer they riped their eyne.

85

And syne the night became so late,
To seek him was but vain:
But judge ye, if they looked blate
When they came home again.

86

Good Robin speard how they had sped;
They answerd him, Full ill;
‘That cannot be,’ good Robin says;
‘Ye have been at the mill.

87

‘The mill it is a meatrif place,
They may lick what they please;
Most like ye have been at that art,
Who would look to your cloaths.’

164

88

They hangd their heads, and droped down,
A word they could not speak:
Robin said, Because I fell a-swoon,
I think you'll do the like.

89

Tell on the matter, less and more,
And tell me what and how
Ye have done with the bold beggar
I sent you for right now.

90

And then they told him to an end,
As I have said before,
How that the beggar did them blind,
What misters process more.

91

And how he lin'd their shoulders broad
With his great trenchen tree,
And how in the thick wood he fled,
Eer they a stime could see.

92

And how they scarcely could win home,
Their bones were beft so sore:
Good Robin cry'd, Fy! out, for shame!
We're sham'd for evermore.

93

Altho good Robin would full fain
Of his wrong revenged be,
He smil'd to see his merry young men
Had gotten a taste of the tree.

165

135
ROBIN HOOD AND THE SHEPHERD

ROBIN HOOD AND THE SHEPHERD

[_]

a. Garland of 1663, No 13.

b. Garland of 1670, No 12.

c. Wood, 401, leaf 13 b.

d. Pepys, II, 115, No 102.

1

All gentlemen and yeomen good,
Down a down a down a down
I wish you to draw near;
For a story of gallant brave Robin Hood
Vnto you I wil declare.
Down, etc.

2

As Robin Hood walkt the forrest along,
Some pastime for to spie,
There was he aware of a jolly shepherd,
That on the ground did lie.

166

3

‘Arise, arise,’ cryed jolly Robin,
‘And now come let me see
What is in thy bag and bottle, I say;
Come tell it unto me.’

4

‘What's that to thee, thou proud fellow?
Tell me as I do stand
What thou hast to do with my bag and bottle?
Let me see thy command.’

5

‘My sword, which hangeth by my side,
Is my command I know;
Come, and let me taste of thy bottle,
Or it may breed thee wo.’

6

‘Tut, the devil a drop, thou proud fellow,
Of my bottle thou shalt see,
Untill thy valour here be tried,
Whether thou wilt fight or flee.’

7

‘What shall we fight for?’ cries bold Robin Hood;
‘Come tell it soon to me;
Here is twenty pounds in good red gold;
Win it, and take it thee.’

8

The Shepherd stood all in a maze,
And knew not what to say:
‘I have no money, thou proud fellow,
But bag and bottle I'le lay.’

9

‘I am content, thou shepherd-swain,
Fling them down on the ground;
But it will breed thee mickle pain,
To win my twenty pound.’

10

‘Come draw thy sword, thou proud fellow,
Thou stands too long to prate;
This hook of mine shall let thee know
A coward I do hate.’

11

So they fell to it, full hardy and sore;
It was on a summers day;
From ten till four in the afternoon
The Shepherd held him play.

12

Robins buckler proved his chief defence,
And saved him many a bang,
For every blow the Shepherd gave
Made Robins sword cry twang.

13

Many a sturdy blow the Shepherd gave,
And that bold Robin found,
Till the blood ran trickling from his head;
Then he fell to the ground.

14

‘Arise, arise, thou proud fellow,
And thou shalt have fair play,
If thou wilt yield, before thou go,
That I have won the day.’

15

‘A boon, a boon,’ cried bold Robin;
‘If that a man thou be,
Then let me take my beaugle-horn,
And blow but blasts three.’

16

‘To blow three times three,’ the Shepherd said,
‘I will not thee deny;
For if thou shouldst blow till to-morrow morn,
I scorn one foot to fly.’

17

Then Robin set his horn to his mouth,
And he blew with mickle main,
Until he espied Little John
Come tripping over the plain.

18

‘O who is yonder, thou proud fellow,
That comes down yonder hill?’
‘Yonder is Little John, bold Robin Hoods man,
Shall fight with thee thy fill.’

19

‘What is the matter?’ saies Little John,
‘Master, come tell to me:’
‘My case is great,’ saies Robin Hood,
‘For the Shepherd hath conquered me.’

20

‘I am glad of that,’ cries Little John,
‘Shepherd, turn thou to me;
For a bout with thee I mean to have,
Either come fight or flee.’

21

‘With all my heart, thou proud fellow,
For it never shall be said
That a shepherds hook of thy sturdy look
Will one jot be dismaid.’

22

So they fell to it, full hardy and sore,
Striving for victory;
‘I will know,’ saies John, ‘ere we give ore,
Whether thou wilt fight or flye.’

23

The Shepherd gave John a sturdy blow,
With his hook under the chin;
‘Beshrew thy heart,’ said Little John,
‘Thou basely dost begin.’

167

24

‘Nay, that's nothing,’ said the Shepherd;
‘Either yield to me the day,
Or I will bang thee back and sides,
Before thou goest thy way.

25

‘What? dost thou think, thou proud fellow,
That thou canst conquer me?
Nay, thou shalt know, before thou go,
I'le fight before I'le flee.’

26

With that to thrash Little John like mad
The Shepherd he begun;
‘Hold, hold,’ cryed bold Robin Hood,
‘And I'le yield the wager won.’

27

‘With all my heart,’ said Little John,
‘To that I will agree;
For he is the flower of shepherd-swains,
The like I never did see.’

28

Thus have you heard of Robin Hood,
Also of Little John,
How a shepherd-swain did conquer them;
The like did never none.

168

136
ROBIN HOOD'S DELIGHT

(ROBIN HOOD, JOHN, SCARLOCK AND THREE KEEPERS)

ROBIN HOOD'S DELIGHT

(ROBIN HOOD, JOHN, SCARLOCK AND THREE KEEPERS)

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 41 b.

b. Garland of 1663, No 17.

c. Garland of 1670, No 16.

d. Pepys, II, 112, No 99.

1

There is some will talk of lords and knights,
Doun a doun a doun a doun
And some of yeoman good,
But I will tell you of Will Scarlock,
Little John and Robin Hood.
Doun a doun a doun a doun

2

They were outlaws, as't is well known,
And men of a noble blood;
And a many a time was their valour shown
In the forrest of merry Sheerwood.

3

Vpon a time it chanced so,
As Robin Hood would have it be,
They all three would a walking go,
Some pastime for to see.

4

And as they walked the forest along,
Upon a midsummer day,
There was they aware of three keepers,
Clade all in green aray.

5

With brave long faucheons by their sides,
And forest-bills in hand,
They calld aloud to those bold outlaws,
And charged them to stand.

6

‘Why who are you,’ cry'd bold Robin,
‘That speaks so boldly here?’
‘We three belong to King Henry,
And are keepers of his deer.’

7

‘The devil thou art!’ sayes Robin Hood,
‘I am sure that it is not so;

169

We be the keepers of this forest,
And that you soon shall know.

8

‘Come, your coats of green lay on the ground,
And so will we all three,
And take your swords and bucklers round,
And try the victory.’

9

‘We be content,’ the keepers said,
‘We be three, and you no less;
Then why should we be of you afraid,
And we never did transgress?’

10

‘Why, if you be three keepers in this forest,
Then we be three rangers good,
And we will make you to know, before you do go,
You meet with bold Robin Hood.’

11

‘We be content, thou bold outlaw,
Our valour here to try,
And we will make you know, before we do go,
We will fight before we will fly.

12

‘Then, come draw your swords, you bold outlaws,
And no longer stand to prate,
But let us try it out with blows,
For cowards we do hate.

13

‘Here is one of us for Will Scarlock,
And another for Little John,
And I my self for Robin Hood,
Because he is stout and strong.’

14

So they fell to it full hard and sore;
It was on a midsummers day;
From eight a clock till two and past,
They all shewed gallant play.

15

There Robin, and Will, and Little John,
They fought most manfully,
Till all their winde was spent and gone,
Then Robin aloud did cry:

16

‘O hold, O hold,’ cries bold Robin,
‘I see you be stout men;
Let me blow one blast on my bugle-horn,
Then I'le fight with you again.’

17

‘That bargain's to make, bold Robin Hood,
Therefore we it deny;
Though a blast upon thy bugle-horn
Cannot make us fight nor fly.

18

‘Therefore fall on, or else be gone,
And yield to us the day:
It shall never be said that we were afraid
Of thee, nor thy yeomen gay.’

19

‘If that be so,’ cries bold Robin,
‘Let me but know your names,
And in the forest of merry Sheerwood
I shall extol your fames.’

20

‘And with our names,’ one of them said,
‘What hast thou here to do?
Except that you will fight it out,
Our names thou shalt not know.’

21

‘We will fight no more,’ sayes bold Robin,
‘You be men of valour stout;
Come and go with me to Nottingham,
And there we will fight it out.

22

‘With a but of sack we will bang it out,
To see who wins the day;
And for the cost, make you no doubt
I have gold and money to pay

23

‘And ever after, so long as we live,
We all will brethren be;
For I love those men with heart and hand
That will fight, and never flee.’

24

So away they went to Nottingham,
With sack to make amends;
For three dayes space they wine did chase,
And drank themselves good friends.

170

137
ROBIN HOOD AND THE PEDLARS

Robinhood and the Peddlers

[_]

The fourth ballad in a MS. formerly in the possession of J. Payne Collier, now in the British Museum; previously printed in Gutch's Robin Hood, II, 351.

171

1

Will you heare a tale of Robin Hood,
Will Scarlett, and Little John?
Now listen awhile, it will make you smile,
As before it hath many done.

2

They were archers three, of hie degree,
As good as ever drewe bowe;
Their arrowes were long and their armes were strong,
As most had cause to knowe.

3

But one sommers day, as they toke their way
Through the forrest of greene Sherwood,
To kill the kings deare, you shall presently heare
What befell these archers good.

4

They were ware on the roade of three peddlers with loade,
Ffor each had his packe,
Ffull of all wares for countrie faires,
Trusst up upon his backe.

5

A good oke staffe, a yard and a halfe,
Each one had in his hande;
And they were all bound to Nottingham towne,
As you shall understand.

6

‘Yonder I see bolde peddlers three,’
Said Robin to Scarlett and John;
‘We'le search their packes upon their backes
Before that they be gone.

7

‘Holla, good fellowes!’ quod Robin Hood,
‘Whither is it ye doe goe?
Now stay and rest, for that is the best,
'Tis well ye should doe soe.’

8

‘Noe rest we neede, on our roade we speede,
Till to Nottingham we get:’
‘Thou tellst a lewde lye,’ said Robin, ‘for I
Can see that ye swinke and swet.’

9

The peddlers three crosst over the lee,
They did not list to fight:
‘I charge you tarrie,’ quod Robin, ‘for marry,
This is my owne land by right.

10

‘This is my mannor and this is my parke,
I would have ye for to knowe;
Ye are bolde outlawes, I see by cause
Ye are so prest to goe.’

11

The peddlers three turned round to see
Who it might be they herd;
Then agen went on as they list to be gone,
And never answered word.

12

Then toke Robin Hood an arrow so good,
Which he did never lacke,
And drew his bowe, and the swift arrowe
Went through the last peddlers packe.

13

Ffor him it was well on the packe it fell,
Or his life had found an ende;
And it pierst the skin of his backe within,
Though the packe did stand his frend.

14

Then downe they flung their packes eche one,
And stayde till Robin came:
Quod Robin, I saide ye had better stayde;
Good sooth, ye were to blame.

15

‘And who art thou? by S. Crispin, I vowe
I'le quickly cracke thy head!’
Cried Robin, Come on, all three, or one;
It is not so soone done as said.

16

My name, by the roode, is Robin Hood,
And this is Scarlett and John;
It is three to three, ye may plainelie see,
Soe now, brave fellowes, laye on.

17

The first peddlars blowe brake Robins bowe
That he had in his hand;
And Scarlett and John, they eche had one
That they unneath could stand.

18

‘Now holde your handes,’ cride Robin Hood,
‘Ffor ye have got oken staves;
But tarie till wee can get but three,
And a fig for all your braves.’

172

19

Of the peddlers the first, his name Kit o Thirske,
Said, We are all content;
Soe eche tooke a stake for his weapon, to make
The peddlers to repent.

20

Soe to it they fell, and their blowes did ring well
Uppon the others backes;
And gave the peddlers cause to wish
They had not cast their packes.

21

Yet the peddlers three of their blowes were so free
That Robin began for to rue;
And Scarlett and John had such loade laide on
It made the sunne looke blue.

22

At last Kits oke caught Robin a stroke
That made his head to sound;
He staggerd, and reelde, till he fell on the fielde,
And the trees with him went round.

23

‘Now holde your handes,’ cride Little John,
And soe said Scarlett eke;
‘Our maister is slaine, I tell you plaine,
He never more will speake.’

24

‘Now, heaven forefend he come to that ende,’
Said Kit, ‘I love him well;
But lett him learne to be wise in turne,
And not with pore peddlers mell.

25

‘In my packe, God wot, I a balsame have got
That soone his hurts will heale;’
And into Robin Hoods gaping mouth
He presentlie powrde some deale.

26

‘Now fare ye well, tis best not to tell
How ye three peddlers met;
Or if ye doe, prithee tell alsoe
How they made ye swinke and swett.’

27

Poore Robin in sound they left on the ground,
And hied them to Nottingham,
While Scarlett and John Robin tended on,
Till at length his senses came.

28

Noe soone[r], in haste, did Robin Hood taste
The balsame he had tane,
Than he gan to spewe, and up he threwe
The balsame all againe.

29

And Scarlett and John, who were looking on
Their maister as he did lie,
Had their faces besmeard, both eies and beard,
Therewith most piteously.

30

Thus ended that fray; soe beware alwaye
How ye doe challenge foes;
Looke well aboute they are not to stoute,
Or you may have worst of the blowes.

138
ROBIN HOOD AND ALLEN A DALE

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLEN A DALE

[_]

a. ‘Robin Hood and Allin of Dale,’ Douce, II, leaf 185.

b. ‘Robin Hood and Allin of Dale,’ Pepys, II, 110, No 97.

c. ‘Robin Hood and Allen a Dale,’ Douce, III, 119 b.

173

1

Come listen to me, you gallants so free,
All you that loves mirth for to hear,
And I will you tell of a bold outlaw,
That lived in Nottinghamshire.

[_]

(bis.)

2

As Robin Hood in the forrest stood,
All under the green-wood tree,
There was he ware of a brave young man,
As fine as fine might be.

3

The youngster was clothed in scarlet red,
In scarlet fine and gay,
And he did frisk it over the plain,
And chanted a roundelay.

4

As Robin Hood next morning stood,
Amongst the leaves so gay,
There did he espy the same young man
Come drooping along the way.

5

The scarlet he wore the day before,
It was clean cast away;
And every step he fetcht a sigh,
‘Alack and a well a day!’

6

Then stepped forth brave Little John,
And Nick the millers son,
Which made the young man bend his bow,
When as he see them come.

7

‘Stand off, stand off,’ the young man said,
‘What is your will with me?’
‘You must come before our master straight,
Vnder yon green-wood tree.’

8

And when he came bold Robin before,
Robin askt him courteously,
O hast thou any money to spare
For my merry men and me?

9

‘I have no money,’ the young man said,
‘But five shillings and a ring;
And that I have kept this seven long years,
To have it at my wedding.

10

‘Yesterday I should have married a maid,
But she is now from me tane,
And chosen to be an old knights delight,
Whereby my poor heart is slain.’

174

11

‘What is thy name?’ then said Robin Hood,
‘Come tell me, without any fail:’
‘By the faith of my body,’ then said the young man,
‘My name it is Allin a Dale.’

12

‘What wilt thou give me,’ said Robin Hood,
‘In ready gold or fee,
To help thee to thy true-love again,
And deliver her unto thee?’

13

‘I have no money,’ then quoth the young man,
‘No ready gold nor fee,
But I will swear upon a book
Thy true servant for to be.’

14

‘How many miles is it to thy true-love?
Come tell me without any guile:’
‘By the faith of my body,’ then said the young man,
‘It is but five little mile.’

15

Then Robin he hasted over the plain,
He did neither stint nor lin,
Vntil he came unto the church
Where Allin should keep his wedding.

16

‘What dost thou do here?’ the bishop he said,
‘I prethee now tell to me:’
‘I am a bold harper,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘And the best in the north countrey.’

17

‘O welcome, O welcome,’ the bishop he said,
‘That musick best pleaseth me;’
‘You shall have no musick,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘Till the bride and the bridegroom I see.’

18

With that came in a wealthy knight,
Which was both grave and old,
And after him a finikin lass,
Did shine like glistering gold.

19

‘This is no fit match,’ quoth bold Robin Hood,
‘That you do seem to make here;
For since we are come unto the church,
The bride she shall chuse her own dear.’

20

Then Robin Hood put his horn to his mouth,
And blew blasts two or three;
When four and twenty bowmen bold
Came leaping over the lee.

21

And when they came into the church-yard,
Marching all on a row,
The first man was Allin a Dale,
To give bold Robin his bow.

22

‘This is thy true-love,’ Robin he said,
‘Young Allin, as I hear say;
And you shall be married at this same time,
Before we depart away.’

23

‘That shall not be,’ the bishop he said,
‘For thy word shall not stand;
They shall be three times askt in the church,
As the law is of our land.’

24

Robin Hood pulld off the bishops coat,
And put it upon Little John;
‘By the faith of my body,’ then Robin said,
‘This cloath doth make thee a man.’

25

When Little John went into the quire,
The people began for to laugh;
He askt them seven times in the church,
Least three times should not be enough.

26

‘Who gives me this maid,’ then said Little John;
Quoth Robin, That do I,
And he that doth take her from Allin a Dale
Full dearly he shall her buy.

27

And thus having ended this merry wedding,
The bride lookt as fresh as a queen,
And so they returnd to the merry green wood,
Amongst the leaves so green.

175

139
ROBIN HOOD'S PROGRESS TO NOTTINGHAM

ROBIN HOOD'S PROGRESS TO NOTTINGHAM

[_]

a. Wood, 402, leaf 14 b. b. Wood, 401, leaf 37 b. c. Garland of 1663, No 2. d. Garland of 1670, No. 1. e. Pepys, II, 104, No 92.

176

1

Robin Hood hee was and a tall young man,
Derry derry down
And fifteen winters old,
And Robin Hood he was a proper young man,
Of courage stout and bold.
Hey down derry derry down

2

Robin Hood he would and to fair Nottingham,
With the general for to dine;
There was he ware of fifteen forresters,
And a drinking bear, ale, and wine.

3

‘What news? What news?’ said bold Robin Hood;
‘What news, fain wouldest thou know?
Our king hath provided a shooting-match:’
‘And I'm ready with my bow.’

4

‘We hold it in scorn,’ then said the forresters,
‘That ever a boy so young
Should bear a bow before our king,
That's not able to draw one string.’

5

‘I'le hold you twenty marks,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘By the leave of Our Lady,
That I'le hit a mark a hundred rod,
And I'le cause a hart to dye.’

6

‘We'l hold you twenty mark,’ then said the forresters,
‘By the leave of Our Lady,
Thou hitst not the marke a hundred rod,
Nor causest a hart to dye.’

7

Robin Hood he bent up a noble bow,
And a broad arrow he let flye,
He hit the mark a hundred rod,
And he caused a hart to dy.

8

Some said hee brake ribs one or two,
And some said hee brake three;
The arrow within the hart would not abide,
But it glanced in two or three.

9

The hart did skip, and the hart did leap,
And the hart lay on the ground;
‘The wager is mine,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘If't were for a thousand pound.’

10

‘The wager's none of thine,’ then said the forresters,
‘Although thou beest in haste;
Take up thy bow, and get thee hence,
Lest wee thy sides do baste.’

11

Robin Hood hee took up his noble bow,
And his broad arrows all amain,
And Robin Hood he laught, and begun to smile,
As hee went over the plain.

12

Then Robin Hood hee bent his noble bow,
And his broad arrows he let flye,
Till fourteen of these fifteen forresters
Vpon the ground did lye.

13

He that did this quarrel first begin
Went tripping over the plain;
But Robin Hood he bent his noble bow,
And hee fetcht him back again.

14

‘You said I was no archer,’ said Robin Hood,
‘But say so now again;’
With that he sent another arrow
That split his head in twain.

15

‘You have found mee an archer,’ saith Robin Hood,
‘Which will make your wives for to wring,

177

And wish that you had never spoke the word,
That I could not draw one string.’

16

The people that lived in fair Nottingham
Came runing out amain,
Supposing to have taken bold Robin Hood,
With the forresters that were slain.

17

Some lost legs, and some lost arms,
And some did lose their blood,
But Robin Hood hee took up his noble bow,
And is gone to the merry green wood.

18

They carryed these forresters into fair Nottingham,
As many there did know;
They digd them graves in their church-yard,
And they buried them all a row.

140
ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THREE SQUIRES

179

ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THREE SQUIRES—A

[_]

Percy MS., p.5; Hales and Furnivall, I, 13; Jamieson's Popular Ballads, II, 49.

[OMITTED]

1

‘[OMITTED]
In faith thou shal[t] haue mine,
And twenty pound in thy purse,
To spend att ale and wine.’

2

‘Though your clothes are of light Lincolne green,
And mine gray russett and torne,
Yet it doth not you beseeme
To doe an old man scorne.’

3

‘I scorne thee not, old man,’ says Robin,
‘By the faith of my body;
Doe of thy clothes, thou shalt haue mine,
For it may noe better bee.’

4

But Robin did on this old mans hose,
The were torne in the wrist;
‘When I looke on my leggs,’ said Robin,
‘Then for to laugh I list.’

5

But Robin did on the old mans shooes,
And the were cliitt full cleane;
‘Now, by my faith,’ sayes Litle Iohn,
‘These are good for thornës keene.’

6

But Robin did on the old mans cloake,
And it was torne in the necke;
‘Now, by my faith,’ said William Scarlett,
‘Heere shold be set a specke.’

7

But Robin did on this old mans hood,
Itt gogled on his crowne;
‘When I come into Nottingham,’ said Robin,
‘My hood it will lightly downe.

8

‘But yonder is an outwood,’ said Robin,
‘An outwood all and a shade,

180

And thither I reede you, my merrymen all,
The ready way to take.

9

‘And when you heare my litle horne blow,
Come raking all on a rowte
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

[OMITTED]

10

But Robin he lope, and Robin he threw,
He lope over stocke and stone;
But those that saw Robin Hood run
Said he was a liuer old man.

11

[Then Robin set his] horne to his mowth,
A loud blast cold h[e] blow;
Ffull three hundred bold yeomen
Came rakinge all on a row.

12

But Robin cast downe his baggs of bread,
Soe did he his staffe with a face,
And in a doublet of red veluett
This yeoman stood in his place.

13

‘But bend your bowes, and stroke your strings,
Set the gallow-tree aboute,
And Christs cursse on his heart,’ said Robin,
‘That spares the sheriffe and the sergiant!’

14

When the sheriffe see gentle Robin wold shoote,
He held vp both his hands;
Sayes, Aske, good Robin, and thou shalt haue,
Whether it be house or land.

15

‘I will neither haue house nor land,’ said Robin,
‘Nor gold, nor none of thy ffee,
But I will haue those three squires
To the greene fforest with me.

16

‘Now marry, Gods forbott,’ said the sheriffe,
‘That euer that shold bee;
For why, they be the kings ffelons,
They are all condemned to dye.’

17

‘But grant me my askinge,’ said Robin,
‘Or by the faith of my body
Thou shalt be the first man
Shall flower this gallow-tree.’

18

‘But I wi[ll haue t]hose three squires
[OMITTED]

Robin Hood rescuing the Widow's Three Sons from the Sheriff, when going to be executed

ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THREE SQUIRES—B

[_]

a. The English Archer, Robin Hood's Garland, York, N. Nickson, n. d., p. 65. b. The English Archer, etc., Paisley, John Neilson, 1786. c. Adventures of Robin Hood, Falkirk, T. Johnston, 1808.

1

There are twelve months in all the year,
As I hear many men say,
But the merriest month in all the year
Is the merry month of May.

2

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
With a link a down and a day,
And there he met a silly old woman,
Was weeping on the way.

3

‘What news? what news, thou silly old woman?
What news hast thou for me?’
Said she, There's three squires in Nottingham town
To-day is condemned to die.

4

‘O have they parishes burnt?’ he said,
‘Or have they ministers slain?
Or have they robbed any virgin,
Or with other men's wives have lain?’

5

‘They have no parishes burnt, good sir,
Nor yet have ministers slain,
Nor have they robbed any virgin,
Nor with other men's wives have lain.’

6

‘O what have they done?’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘I pray thee tell to me:’
‘It's for slaying of the king's fallow deer,
Bearing their long bows with thee.’

7

‘Dost thou not mind, old woman,’ he said,
‘Since thou made me sup and dine?
By the truth of my body,’ quoth bold Robin Hood,
‘You could not tell it in better time.’

8

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
With a link a down and a day,
And there he met with a silly old palmer,
Was walking along the highway.

181

9

‘What news? what news, thou silly old man?
What news, I do thee pray?’
Said he, Three squires in Nottingham town
Are condemnd to die this day.

10

‘Come change thy apparel with me, old man,
Come change thy apparel for mine;
Here is forty shillings in good silver,
Go drink it in beer or wine.’

11

‘O thine apparel is good,’ he said,
‘And mine is ragged and torn;
Whereever you go, wherever you ride,
Laugh neer an old man to scorn.’

12

‘Come change thy apparel with me, old churl,
Come change thy apparel with mine;
Here are twenty pieces of good broad gold,
Go feast thy brethren with wine.’

13

Then he put on the old man's hat,
It stood full high on the crown:
‘The first bold bargain that I come at,
It shall make thee come down.’

14

Then he put on the old man's cloak,
Was patchd black, blew, and red;
He thought no shame all the day long
To wear the bags of bread.

15

Then he put on the old man's breeks,
Was patchd from ballup to side;
‘By the truth of my body,’ bold Robin can say,
‘This man lovd little pride.’

16

Then he put on the old man's hose,
Were patchd from knee to wrist;
‘By the truth of my body,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘I'd laugh if I had any list.’

17

Then he put on the old man's shoes,
Were patchd both beneath and aboon;
Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath,
It's good habit that makes a man.

18

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
With a link a down and a down,
And there he met with the proud sheriff,
Was walking along the town.

19

‘O save, O save, O sheriff,’ he said,
‘O save, and you may see!
And what will you give to a silly old man
To-day will your hangman be?’

20

‘Some suits, some suits,’ the sheriff he said,
‘Some suits I'll give to thee;
Some suits, some suits, and pence thirteen
To-day's a hangman's fee.’

21

Then Robin he turns him round about,
And jumps from stock to stone;
‘By the truth of my body,’ the sheriff he said,
‘That's well jumpt, thou nimble old man.’

22

‘I was neer a hangman in all my life,
Nor yet intends to trade;
But curst be he,’ said bold Robin,
‘That first a hangman was made.

23

‘I've a bag for meal, and a bag for malt,
And a bag for barley and corn;
A bag for bread, and a bag for beef,
And a bag for my little small horn.

24

‘I have a horn in my pocket,
I got it from Robin Hood,
And still when I set it to my mouth,
For thee it blows little good.’

25

‘O wind thy horn, thou proud fellow,
Of thee I have no doubt;
I wish that thou give such a blast
Till both thy eyes fall out.’

26

The first loud blast that he did blow,
He blew both loud and shrill;
A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood's men
Came riding over the hill.

27

The next loud blast that he did give,
He blew both loud and amain,
And quickly sixty of Robin Hood's men
Came shining over the plain.

28

‘O who are yon,’ the sheriff he said,
‘Come tripping over the lee?’
‘The're my attendants,’ brave Robin did say,
‘They'll pay a visit to thee.’

29

They took the gallows from the slack,
They set it in the glen,
They hangd the proud sheriff on that,
Releasd their own three men.

182

Robin Hood rescuing the Three Squires from Nottingham Gallows

ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THREE SQUIRES—C

[_]

Robin Hood's Garland. a. London, printed by W. & C. Dicey, in St. Mary Aldermary Church Yard, Bow Lane, Cheapside, and sold at the Warehouse at Northampton, n. d.: p. 74, No 24. b. London, printed by L. How, in Peticoat Lane, n. d.: p. 23. c. York, T. Wilson and R. Spence, n. d.: p. 27. d. Preston, W. Sergent, n. d.: p. 62. e. London, printed and sold by J. Marshall & Co., Aldermary Church Yard, Bow Lane, n. d.: No 24. f. Wolverhampton, printed and sold by J. Smart, n. d.

1

Bold Robin Hood ranging the forest all round,
The forest all round ranged he;
O there did he meet with a gay lady,
She came weeping along the highway.

2

‘Why weep you, why weep you?’ bold Robin he said,
‘What, weep you for gold or fee?
Or do you weep for your maidenhead,
That is taken from your body?’

3

‘I weep not for gold,’ the lady replyed,
‘Neither do I weep for fee;
Nor do I weep for my maidenhead,
That is taken from my body.’

4

‘What weep you for then?’ said jolly Robin,
‘I prithee come tell unto me;’
‘Oh! I do weep for my three sons,
For they are all condemned to die.’

5

‘What church have they robbed?’ said jolly Robin,
‘Or parish-priest have they slain?
What maids have they forced against their will?
Or with other men's wives have lain?’

6

‘No church have they robbd,’ this lady replied,
‘Nor parish-priest have they slain;
No maids have they forc'd against their will,
Nor with other men's wives have lain.’

7

‘What have they done then?’ said jolly Robin,
‘Come tell me most speedily:’
‘Oh! it is for killing the king's fallow deer,
And they are all condemned to die.’

8

‘Get you home, get you home,’ said jolly Robin,
‘Get you home most speedily,
And I will unto fair Nottingham go,
For the sake of the squires all three.’

9

Then bold Robin Hood for Nottingham goes,
For Nottingham town goes he,
O there did he meet with a poor beggar-man,
He came creeping along the highway.

10

‘What news, what news, thou old beggar-man?
What news, come tell unto me:’
‘O there is weeping and wailing in fair Nottingham,
For the death of the squires all three.’

11

This beggar-man had a coat on his back,
'T was neither green, yellow, nor red;
Bold Robin Hood thought 'twas no disgrace
To be in a beggar-man's stead.

12

‘Come, pull off thy coat, you old beggar-man,
And you shall put on mine;
And forty good shillings I'll give thee to boot,
Besides brandy, good beer, ale and wine.’

13

Bold Robin Hood then unto Nottingham came,
Unto Nottingham town came he;
O there did he meet with great master sheriff,
And likewise the squires all three.

14

‘One boon, one boon,’ says jolly Robin,
‘One boon I beg on my knee;
That, as for the deaths of these three squires,
Their hangman I may be.’

15

‘Soon granted, soon granted,’ says great master sheriff,
‘Soon granted unto thee;
And you shall have all their gay cloathing,
Aye, and all their white money.’

16

‘O I will have none of their gay cloathing,
Nor none of their white money,
But I'll have three blasts on my bugle-horn,
That their souls to heaven may flee.’

17

Then Robin Hood mounted the gallows so high,
Where he blew loud and shrill,
Till an hundred and ten of Robin Hood's men
They came marching all down the green hill.

18

‘Whose men are they all these?’ says great master sheriff,
‘Whose men are they? tell unto me:’
‘O they are mine, but none of thine,
And they're come for the squires all three.’

183

19

‘O take them, O take them,’ says great master sheriff,
‘O take them along with thee;
For there's never a man in all Nottingham
Can do the like of thee.’

185

141
ROBIN HOOD RESCUING WILL STUTLY

ROBIN HOOD RESCUING WILL STUTLY

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 35 b.

b. Garland of 1663, No 7.

c. Garland of 1670, No 6.

d. Pepys, II, 106, No 93.

1

When Robin Hood in the green-wood livd,
Derry derry down
Vnder the green-wood tree,
Tidings there came to him with speed,
Tidings for certainty,
Hey down derry derry down

2

That Will Stutly surprized was,
And eke in prison lay;
Three varlets that the sheriff had hired
Did likely him betray.

3

I, and to-morrow hanged must be,
To-morrow as soon as it is day;
But before they could this victory get,
Two of them did Stutly slay.

4

When Robin Hood he heard this news,
Lord! he was grieved sore,
I, and unto his merry men [said],
Who altogether swore,

186

5

That Will Stutly should rescued be,
And be brought safe again;
Or else should many a gallant wight
For his sake there be slain.

6

He cloathed himself in scarlet then,
His men were all in green;
A finer show, throughout the world,
In no place could be seen.

7

Good lord! it was a gallant sight
To see them all on a row;
With every man a good broad sword,
And eke a good yew bow.

8

Forth of the green wood are they gone,
Yea, all couragiously,
Resolving to bring Stutly home,
Or every man to die.

9

And when they came the castle neer
Whereas Will Stutly lay,
‘I hold it good,’ saith Robin Hood,
‘Wee here in ambush stay,

10

‘And send one forth some news to hear,
To yonder palmer fair,
That stands under the castle-wall;
Some news he may declare.’

11

With that steps forth a brave young man,
Which was of courage bold;
Thus hee did say to the old man:
I pray thee, palmer old,

12

Tell me, if that thou rightly ken,
When must Will Stutly die,
Who is one of bold Robins men,
And here doth prisoner lie?

13

‘Alack, alass,’ the palmer said,
‘And for ever wo is me!
Will Stutly hanged must be this day,
On yonder gallows-tree.

14

‘O had his noble master known,
Hee would some succour send;
A few of his bold yeomandree
Full soon would fetch him hence.’

15

‘I, that is true,’ the young man said;
‘I, that is true,’ said hee;
‘Or, if they were neer to this place,
They soon would set him free.

16

‘But fare thou well, thou good old man,
Farewell, and thanks to thee;
If Stutly hanged be this day,
Revengd his death will be.’

17

He was no sooner from the palmer gone,
But the gates was opened wide,
And out of the castle Will Stutly came,
Guarded on every side.

18

When hee was forth from the castle come,
And saw no help was nigh,
Thus he did say unto the sheriff,
Thus he said gallantly:

19

Now seeing that I needs must die,
Grant me one boon, says he;
For my noble master nere had man
That yet was hangd on the tree.

20

Give me a sword all in my hand,
And let mee be unbound,
And with thee and thy men I'le fight,
Vntill I lie dead on the ground.

21

But his desire he would not grant,
His wishes were in vain;
For the sheriff had sworn he hanged should be,
And not by the sword be slain.

22

‘Do but unbind my hands,’ he saies,
‘I will no weapons crave,
And if I hanged be this day,
Damnation let me have.’

23

‘O no, O no,’ the sheriff he said,
‘Thou shalt on the gallows die,
I, and so shall thy master too,
If ever in me it lie.’

24

‘O dastard coward!’ Stutly cries,
‘Thou faint-heart pesant slave!
If ever my master do thee meet,
Thou shalt thy paiment have.

25

‘My noble master thee doth scorn,
And all thy cowardly crew;
Such silly imps unable are
Bold Robin to subdue.’

187

26

But when he was to the gallows come,
And ready to bid adiew,
Out of a bush leaps Little John,
And steps Will Stutly to.

27

‘I pray thee, Will, before thou die,
Of thy dear friends take leave;
I needs must borrow him a while,
How say you, master sheriff?’

28

‘Now, as I live,’ the sheriff he said,
‘That varlet will I know;
Some sturdy rebell is that same,
Therefore let him not go.’

29

With that Little John so hastily
Away cut Stutly's bands,
And from one of the sheriff his men,
A sword twicht from his hands.

30

‘Here, Will, here, take thou this same,
Thou canst it better sway;
And here defend thy self a while,
For aid will come straight way.’

31

And there they turnd them back to back,
In the middle of them that day,
Till Robin Hood approached neer,
With many an archer gay.

32

With that an arrow by them flew,
I wist from Robin Hood;
‘Make haste, make haste,’ the sheriff he said,
‘Make haste, for it is good.’

33

The sheriff is gone; his doughty men
Thought it no boot to stay,
But, as their master had them taught,
They run full fast away.

34

‘O stay, O stay,’ Will Stutly said,
‘Take leave ere you depart;
You nere will catch bold Robin Hood
Vnless you dare him meet.’

35

‘O ill betide you,’ quoth Robin Hood,
‘That you so soon are gone;
My sword may in the scabbord rest,
For here our work is done.’

36

‘I little thought when I came here,
When I came to this place,
For to have met with Little John,
Or seen my masters face.’

37

Thus Stutly was at liberty set,
And safe brought from his foe;
‘O thanks, O thanks to my master,
Since here it was not so.’

38

‘And once again, my fellows,
We shall in the green woods meet,
Where we will make our bow-strings twang,
Musick for us most sweet.’

188

142
LITTLE JOHN A BEGGING

LITTLE JOHN A BEGGING—A

[_]

Percy MS., p. 20; Hales and Furnivall, I, 47.

[OMITTED]

1

[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED] beggar,’ he sayes,
‘With none such fellows as thee.’

2

‘I am not in iest,’ said Litle Iohn,
‘I sweare all by the roode;
Change with mee,’ said Little Iohn,
‘And I will giue thee some boote.’

3

But he has gotten on this old mans gowne,
It reacht not to his wrist;
‘Christ's curse on's hart,’ said Litle Iohn,
‘That thinkes my gowne amisse.’

4

But he has gotten on this old mans shoes,
Are clouted nine fold about;
‘Beshrew his hart,’ says Litle Iohn,
‘That bryer or thorne does doubt.

5

‘Wilt teach me some phrase of thy begging?’ says Iohn;
‘I pray thee, tell it mee,
How I may be as beggar-like
As any in my companie.’

6

‘Thou must goe two foote on a staffe,
The third vpon a tree;
Full loud that thou must cry and fare,
When nothing ayleth thee.’

7

But Iohn he walket the hills soe high,
Soe did [he] the hills soe browne;

189

The ready way that he cold take
Was towards Nottingham towne.

8

But as he was on the hills soe high,
He mett with palmers three;
Sayes, God you saue, my brethren all,
Now God you saue and see!

9

This seuen yeere I haue you sought;
Before I cold neuer you see!
Said they, Wee had leuer such a cankred carle
Were neuer in our companie.

10

But one of them tooke Litle Iohn on his head,
The blood ran over his eye;
Little Iohn turned him twise about
[OMITTED]

[OMITTED]

11

‘If I [OMITTED]
As I haue beene but one day,
I shold haue purcchased three of the best churches
That stands by any highway.’

Little John and the Four Beggers

LITTLE JOHN A BEGGING—B

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 33 b. b. Garland of 1663, No 16. c. Garland of 1670, No 15. d. Pepys, II, 119, No 105.

1

All you that delight to spend some time
With a hey down down a down down
A merry song for to sing,
Vnto me draw neer, and you shall hear
How Little John went a begging.

2

As Robin Hood walked the forrest along,
And all his yeomandree,
Sayes Robin, Some of you must a begging go,
And, Little John, it must be thee.

3

Sayes John, If I must a begging go,
I will have a palmers weed,
With a staff and a coat, and bags of all sort,
The better then I shall speed.

4

Come, give me now a bag for my bread,
And another for my cheese,
And one for a peny, when as I get any,
That nothing I may leese.

5

Now Little John he is a begging gone,
Seeking for some relief;
But of all the beggers he met on the way,
Little John he was the chief.

6

But as he was walking himself alone,
Four beggers he chanced to spy,
Some deaf, and some blind, and some came behind;
Says John, Here's brave company!

7

‘Good-morrow,’ said John, ‘my brethren dear,
Good fortune I had you to see;
Which way do you go? pray let me know,
For I want some company.

8

‘O what is here to do?’ then said Little John,
‘Why rings all these bells?’ said he;
‘What dog is a hanging? come, let us be ganging,
That we the truth may see.’

9

‘Here is no dog a hanging,’ then one of them said,
‘Good fellow, we tell unto thee;
But here is one dead wil give us cheese and bred,
And it may be one single peny.’

10

‘We have brethren in London,’ another he said,
‘So have we in Coventry,
In Barwick and Dover, and all the world over,
But nere a crookt carril like thee.

11

‘Therefore stand thee back, thou crooked carel,
And take that knock on the crown;’
‘Nay,’ said Little John, ‘I'le not yet be gone,
For a bout will I have with you round.

12

‘Now have at you all,’ then said Little John,
‘If you be so full of your blows;
Fight on, all four, and nere give ore,
Whether you be friends or foes.’

13

John nipped the dumb, and made him to rore,
And the blind that could not see,
And he that a cripple had been seven years,
He made him run faster then he.

14

And flinging them all against the wall,
With many a sturdie bang,

190

It made John sing, to hear the gold ring,
Which against the walls cryed twang.

15

Then he got out of the beggers cloak
Three hundred pound in gold;
‘Good fortune had I,’ then said Little John,
‘Such a good sight to behold.’

16

But what found he in a beggers bag,
But three hundred pound and three?
‘If I drink water while this doth last,
Then an ill death may I dye!

17

‘And my begging-trade I will now give ore,
My fortune hath bin so good;
Therefore I'le not stay, but I will away
To the forrest of merry Sherwood.’

18

And when to the forrest of Sherwood he came,
He quickly there did see
His master good, bold Robin Hood,
And all his company.

19

‘What news? What news?’ then said Robin Hood,
‘Come, Little John, tell unto me;
How hast thou sped with thy beggers trade?
For that I fain would see.’

20

‘No news but good,’ then said Little John,
‘With begging ful wel I have sped;
Six hundred and three I have here for thee,
In silver and gold so red.’

21

Then Robin took Little John by the hand,
And danced about the oak-tree:
‘If we drink water while this doth last,
Then an il death may we die!’

22

So to conclude my merry new song,
All you that delight it to sing,
'Tis of Robin Hood, that archer good,
And how Little John went a begging.

191

143
ROBIN HOOD AND THE BISHOP

Robin Hood and the Bishop

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 11 b.

b. Garland of 1663, No 5.

c. Garland of 1670, No 4.

d. Pepys, II, 109, No 96.

e. Roxburghe, I, 362, in the Ballad Societys reprint, II, 448.

1

Come, gentlemen all, and listen a while,
Hey down down an a down
And a story I'le to you unfold;
I'le tell you how Robin Hood served the Bishop,
When he robbed him of his gold.

2

As it fell out on a sun-shining day,
When Phebus was in his prime,
Then Robin Hood, that archer good,
In mirth would spend some time.

3

And as he walkd the forrest along,
Some pastime for to spy,
There was he aware of a proud bishop,
And all his company.

4

‘O what shall I do?’ said Robin Hood then,
‘If the Bishop he doth take me,
No mercy he'l show unto me, I know,
But hanged I shall be.’

192

5

Then Robin was stout, and turnd him about,
And a little house there he did spy;
And to an old wife, for to save his life,
He loud began for to cry.

6

‘Why, who art thou?’ said the old woman,
‘Come tell it to me for good:’
‘I am an out-law, as many do know,
My name it is Robin Hood.

7

‘And yonder's the Bishop and all his men,
And if that I taken be,
Then day and night he'l work me spight,
And hanged I shall be.’

8

‘If thou be Robin Hood,’ said the old wife,
‘As thou dost seem to be,
I'le for thee provide, and thee I will hide
From the Bishop and his company.

9

‘For I well remember, one Saturday night
Thou bought me both shoos and hose;
Therefore I'le provide thy person to hide,
And keep thee from thy foes.’

10

‘Then give me soon thy coat of gray,
And take thou my mantle of green;
Thy spindle and twine unto me resign,
And take thou my arrows so keen.’

11

And when that Robin Hood was so araid,
He went straight to his company;
With his spindle and twine, he oft lookt behind
For the Bishop and his company.

12

‘O who is yonder,’ quoth Little John,
‘That now comes over the lee?
An arrow I will at her let flie,
So like an old witch looks she.’

13

‘O hold thy hand, hold thy hand,’ said Robin then,
‘And shoot not thy arrows so keen;
I am Robin Hood, thy master good,
And quickly it shall be seen.’

14

The Bishop he came to the old womans house,
And he called with furious mood,
‘Come let me soon see, and bring unto me,
That traitor Robin Hood.’

15

The old woman he set on a milk-white steed,
Himselfe on a dapple-gray,
And for joy he had got Robin Hood,
He went laughing all the way.

16

But as they were riding the forrest along,
The Bishop he chanc'd for to see
A hundred brave bow-men bold
Stand under the green-wood tree.

17

‘O who is yonder,’ the Bishop then said,
‘That's ranging within yonder wood?’
‘Marry,’ says the old woman, ‘I think it to be
A man calld Robin Hood.’

18

‘Why, who art thou,’ the Bishop he said,
‘Which I have here with me?’
‘Why, I am an old woman, thou cuckoldly bishop;
Lift up my leg and see.’

19

‘Then woe is me,’ the Bishop he said,
‘That ever I saw this day!’
He turnd him about, but Robin so stout
Calld him, and bid him stay.

20

Then Robin took hold of the Bishops horse,
And ty'd him fast to a tree;
Then Little John smil'd his master upon,
For joy of that company.

21

Robin Hood took his mantle from's back,
And spread it upon the ground,
And out of the Bishops portmantle he
Soon told five hundred pound.

22

‘So now let him go,’ said Robin Hood;
Said Little John, That may not be;
For I vow and protest he shall sing us a mass
Before that he goe from me.

23

Then Robin Hood took the Bishop by the hand,
And bound him fast to a tree,
And made him sing a mass, God wot,
To him and his yeomandree.

24

And then they brought him through the wood,
And set him on his dapple-gray,
And gave the tail within his hand,
And bade him for Robin Hood pray.

193

144
ROBIN HOOD AND THE BISHOP OF HEREFORD

194

Robin Hood and the Bishop of Hereford

ROBIN HOOD AND THE BISHOP OF HEREFORD—A

[_]

a. Robin Hood's Garland, Aldermary Churchyard, No 23. b. Douce Ballads, III, 123 b, 1791. c. Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, p. 395, from a broadside printed for Daniel Wright. d. Robin Hood's Garland, without place, 1749, No 23, p. 98.

1

Some they will talk of bold Robin Hood,
And some of barons bold,
But I'll tell you how he servd the Bishop of Hereford,
When he robbd him of his gold.

2

As it befel in merry Barnsdale,
And under the green-wood tree,
The Bishop of Hereford was to come by,
With all his company.

3

‘Come, kill a venson,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘Come, kill me a good fat deer;
The Bishop of Hereford is to dine with me to-day,
And he shall pay well for his cheer.

4

‘We'll kill a fat venson,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘And dress it by the highway-side;
And we will watch the Bishop narrowly,
Lest some other way he should ride.’

5

Robin Hood dressd himself in shepherd's attire,
With six of his men also;
And, when the Bishop of Hereford came by,
They about the fire did go.

6

‘O what is the matter?’ then said the Bishop,
‘Or for whom do you make this a-do?
Or why do you kill the king's venson,
When your company is so few?’

7

‘We are shepherds,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘And we keep sheep all the year,
And we are disposed to be merry this day,
And to kill of the king's fat deer.’

8

‘You are brave fellows!’ said the Bishop,
‘And the king of your doings shall know;
Therefore make haste and come along with me,
For before the king you shall go.’

9

‘O pardon, O pardon,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘O pardon, I thee pray!
For it becomes not your lordship's coat
To take so many lives away.’

10

‘No pardon, no pardon,’ says the Bishop,
‘No pardon I thee owe;
Therefore make haste, and come along with me,
For before the king you shall go.’

195

11

Then Robin set his back against a tree,
And his foot against a thorn,
And from underneath his shepherd's coat
He pulld out a bugle-horn.

12

He put the little end to his mouth,
And a loud blast did he blow,
Till threescore and ten of bold Robin's men
Came running all on a row;

13

All making obeysance to bold Robin Hood;
'Twas a comely sight for to see:
‘What is the matter, master,’ said Little John,
‘That you blow so hastily?’

14

‘O here is the Bishop of Hereford,
And no pardon we shall have:’
‘Cut off his head, master,’ said Little John,
‘And throw him into his grave.’

15

‘O pardon, O pardon,’ said the Bishop,
‘O pardon, I thee pray!
For if I had known it had been you,
I'd have gone some other way.’

16

‘No pardon, no pardon,’ said Robin Hood,
‘No pardon I thee owe;
Therefore make haste and come along with me,
For to merry Barnsdale you shall go.’

17

Then Robin he took the Bishop by the hand,
And led him to merry Barnsdale;
He made him to stay and sup with him that night,
And to drink wine, beer, and ale.

18

‘Call in the reckoning,’ said the Bishop,
‘For methinks it grows wondrous high:’
‘Lend me your purse, Bishop,’ said Little John,
‘And I'll tell you bye and bye.’

19

Then Little John took the bishop's cloak,
And spread it upon the ground,
And out of the bishop's portmantua
He told three hundred pound.

20

‘Here's money enough, master,’ said Little John,
‘And a comely sight't is to see;
It makes me in charity with the Bishop,
Tho he heartily loveth not me.’

21

Robin Hood took the Bishop by the hand,
And he caused the music to play,
And he made the Bishop to dance in his boots,
And glad he could so get away.

ROBIN HOOD AND THE BISHOP OF HEREFORD—B

[_]

E. Cochrane's Song-Book, p. 149, No 113.

1

Some talk of lords, and some talk of lairds,
And some talk of barrons bold,
But I'll tell you a story of bold Robin Hood,
How he robbed the Bishop of his gold.

2

‘Cause kill us a venison,’ sayes Robin Hood,
‘And we'll dress it by the high-way side,
And we will watch narrowly for the Bishop,
Lest some other way he do ride.’

3

‘Now who is this,’ sayes the Bishop,
‘That makes so boldly here
To kill the king's poor small venison,
And so few of his company here?’

4

‘We are shepherds,’ says Robin Hood,
‘And do keep sheep all the year;
And we thought it fit to be merry on a day,
And kill one of the king's fallow deer.’

5

‘Thou art a bold fellow,’ the Bishop replyes,
‘And your boldness you do show;
Make hast, make hast, and go along with me,
For the king of your doings shall know.’

6

He leand his back unto a brae,
His foot against a thorn,
And out from beneath his long shepherds coat
He pulled a blowing-horn.

7

He put his horn in to his mouth,
And a snell blast he did blow,
Till four and twenty of bold Robins men
Came riding up all in a row.

8

‘Come, give us a reckoning,’ says the Bishop,
‘For I think you drink wondrous large:’

196

‘Come, give me your purse,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘And I will pay all your charge.’

9

He pulled off his long shepherds coat,
And he spread it on the ground,
And out of the Bishops long trunk-hose,
He pulled a hundred pound.

10

‘O master,’ quoth Litle John,
‘It's a very bony sight for to see;
It makes me to favour the Bishop,
Tho in heart he loves not me.’

11

‘Come, sing us a mass,’ sayes bold Robin Hood,
‘Come, sing us a mass all anon;
Come, sing us a mass,’ sayes bold Robin Hood,
‘Take a kick in the a*se, and be gone.’

145
ROBIN HOOD AND QUEEN KATHERINE

198

Robin Hoode and Quene Kath[erine]

ROBIN HOOD AND QUEEN KATHERINE—A

[_]

Percy MS., p. 15; Hales and Furnivall, I, 37.

1

Now list you, lithe you, gentlemen,
A while for a litle space,
And I shall tell you how Queene Katterine
Gott Robin Hood his grace.

2

Gold taken from the kings harbengers
Seldome times hath beene seene,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

[OMITTED]

3

[OMITTED]
‘Queene Katherine, I say to thee;’
‘That's a princly wager,’ quoth Queene Katherine,
‘Betweene your grace and me.

4

‘Where must I haue mine archers?’ says Queene Katherine;
‘You haue the flower of archery:’
‘Now take your choice, dame,’ he sayes,
‘Thorow out all England free.

5

‘Yea from North Wales to Westchester,
And also to Couentry;
And when you haue chosen the best you can,
The wager must goe with mee.’

6

‘If that prooue,’ says Queene Katherine,
‘Soone that wilbe tride and knowne;
Many a man counts of another mans pursse,
And after looseth his owne.’

7

The queene is to her palace gone,
To her page thus shee can say:
Come hither to me, Dicke Patrinton,
Trusty and trew this day.

8

Thou must bring me the names of my archers all,
All strangers must they bee,
Yea from North Wales to West Chester,
And alsoe to Couentrie.

9

Commend me to Robin Hood, says Queene Katherine,
And alsoe to Litle John,
And specially to Will Scarlett,
Ffryar Tucke and Maid Marryan.

10

Robin Hood we must call Loxly,
And Little John the Millers sonne;
Thus wee then must change their names,
They must be strangers euery one.

11

Commend mee to Robin Hood, sayes Queene Katherine,
And marke, page, what I say;
In London they must be with me
[Vpon St Georges day.]

[OMITTED]

12

[OMITTED]
‘These words hath sent by me;
Att London you must be with her
Vpon St Georg[e]s day.

13

‘Vpon St Georg[e]s day att noone
Att London needs must you bee;

199

Shee wold not misse your companie
For all the gold in Cristinty.

14

‘Shee hath tane a shooting for your sake,
The greatest in Christentie,
And her part you must needs take
Against her prince, Henery.

15

‘Shee sends you heere her gay gold ring
A trew token for to bee;
And, as you are [a] banisht man,
Shee trusts to sett you free.’

16

‘And I loose that wager,’ says bold Robin Hoode,
‘I'le bring mony to pay for me;
And wether that I win or loose,
On my queenes part I will be.’

17

In sommer time when leaues grow greene,
And flowers are fresh and gay,
Then Robin Hood he deckt his men
Eche one in braue array.

18

He deckt his men in Lincolne greene,
Himselfe in scarlett red;
Fayre of theire brest then was it seene
When his siluer armes were spread.

19

With hattis white and fethers blacke,
And bowes and arrowes keene,
And thus he ietted towards louly London,
To present Queene Katherine.

20

But when they cam to louly London,
They kneeled vpon their knee;
Sayes, God you saue, Queene Katherine,
And all your dignitie!

[OMITTED]

21

[OMITTED] of my guard,’
Thus can King Henry say,
‘And those that wilbe of Queene Katerines side,
They are welcome to me this day.’

22

‘Then come hither to me, Sir Richard Lee,
Thou art a knight full good;
Well it is knowen ffrom thy pedygree
Thou came from Gawiins blood.

23

‘Come hither, Bishopp of Hereford,’ quoth Queene Katherine —
A good preacher I watt was hee —
‘And stand thou heere vpon a odd side,
On my side for to bee.’

24

‘I like not that,’ sayes the bishopp then,
‘By faikine of my body,
For if I might haue my owne will,
On the kings I wold bee.’

25

‘What will thou be[t] against vs,’ says Loxly then,
‘And stake it on the ground?’
‘That will I doe, fine fellow,’ he says,
‘And it drawes to fiue hundreth pound.’

26

‘There is a bett,’ says Loxly then;
‘Wee'le stake it merrily;’
But Loxly knew full well in his mind
And whose that gold shold bee.

27

Then the queenes archers they shot about
Till it was three and three;
Then the lady's gaue a merry shout,
Sayes, Woodcocke, beware thine eye!

28

‘Well, gam and gam,’ then quoth our king,
‘The third three payes for all;’
Then Robine rounded with our queene,
Says, The kings part shall be small.

29

Loxly puld forth a broad arrowe,
He shott it vnder hand,
[OMITTED] s vnto [OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

[OMITTED]

30

[OMITTED]
‘For once he vndidd mee;
If I had thought it had beene bold Robin Hoode,
I wold not haue betted one peny.

31

‘Is this Robin Hood?’ says the bishopp againe;
‘Once I knew him to soone;
He made me say a masse against my will,
Att two a clocke in the afternoone.

32

‘He bound me fast vnto a tree,
Soe did he my merry men;

200

He borrowed ten pound against my will,
But he neuer paid me againe.’

33

‘What and if I did?’ says bold Robin Hood,
‘Of that masse I was full faine;
In recompence, befor king and queene
Take halfe of thy gold againe.’

34

‘I thanke thee for nothing,’ says the bishopp,
‘Thy large gift to well is knowne,
That will borrow a mans mony against his will,
And pay him againe with his owne.’

35

‘What if he did soe?’ says King Henery,
‘For that I loue him neuer the worsse;
Take vp thy gold againe, bold Robin Hood,
And put [it] in thy pursse.

36

‘If thou woldest leaue thy bold outlawes,
And come and dwell with me,
Then I wold say thou art welcome, bold Robin Hood,
The flower of archery.’

37

‘I will not leaue my bold outlawes
For all the gold in Christentie;
In merry Sherwood I'le take my end,
Vnder my trusty tree.

38

‘And gett your shooters, my leeig[e], where you will,
For in faith you shall haue none of me;
And when Queene Katherine puts up her f[inger]
Att her Graces commandement I'le bee.’

[OMITTED]

Renowned Robin Hood

ROBIN HOOD AND QUEEN KATHERINE—B

[_]

a. Wood, 402, leaf 10. b. Roxburghe, I, 356, in the Ballad Society's reprint, II, 419. c. Garland of 1663, No 9. d. Garland of 1670, No 8. e. Wood, 401, leaf 31 b. f. Pepys, II, 103, No 90.

1

Gold tane from the kings harbengers,
Down a down a down
As seldome hath been seen,
Down a down a down
And carried by bold Robin Hood
For a present to the queen.
Down a down a down

2

‘If that I live a year to an end,’
Thus gan Queen Katherin say,
‘Bold Robin Hood, I will be thy friend,
And all thy yeomen gay.’

3

The queen is to her chamber gone,
As fast as she can wen;
She cals unto her her lovely page,
His name was Richard Patringten.

4

‘Come hither to mee, thou lovely page,
Come thou hither to mee;
For thou must post to Notingham,
As fast as thou canst dree.

5

‘And as thou goest to Notingham,
Search all those English wood;
Enquire of one good yeoman or another
That can tell thee of Robin Hood.’

6

Sometimes he went, sometimes hee ran,
As fast as he could win;
And when hee came to Notingham,
There he took up his inne.

7

And when he came to Notingham,
And had took up his inne,
He calls for a pottle of Renish wine,
And drank a health to his queen.

8

There sat a yeoman by his side;
‘Tell mee, sweet page,’ said hee,
‘What is thy business or the cause,
So far in the North Country?’

9

‘This is my business and the cause,
Sir, I'le tell it you for good,
To inquire of one good yeoman or another
To tell mee of Robin Hood.’

10

‘I'le get my horse betime in the morn,
By it be break of day,
And I will shew thee bold Robin Hood,
And all his yeomen gay.’

11

When that he came at Robin Hoods place,
Hee fell down on his knee:

201

‘Queen Katherine she doth greet you well,
She greets you well by mee.

12

‘She bids you post to fair London court,
Not fearing any thing;
For there shall be a little sport,
And she hath sent you her ring.’

13

Robin took his mantle from his back —
It was of the Lincoln green —
And sent it by this lovely page,
For a present unto the queen.

14

In summer time, when leaves grow green,
It is a seemly sight to see
How Robin Hood himself had drest,
And all his yeomandry.

15

He cloathed his men in Lincoln green,
And himself in scarlet red,
Black hats, white feathers, all alike;
Now bold Robin Hood is rid.

16

And when he came at Londons court,
Hee fell downe on his knee:
‘Thou art welcome, Locksly,’ said the queen,
‘And all thy good yeomendree.’

17

The king is into Finsbury field,
Marching in battel ray,
And after follows bold Robin Hood,
And all his yeomen gay.

18

‘Come hither, Tepus,’ said the king,
‘Bow-bearer after mee,
Come measure mee out with this line
How long our mark shall be.’

19

‘What is the wager?’ said the queen,
‘That must I now know here:’
‘Three hundred tun of Renish wine,
Three hundred tun of beer.

20

‘Three hundred of the fattest harts
That run on Dallom lee;
That's a princely wager,’ said the king,
‘That needs must I tell thee.’

21

With that bespake one Clifton then,
Full quickly and full soon;
‘Measure no mark for us, most soveraign leige,
Wee'l shoot at sun and moon.’

22

‘Ful fifteen score your mark shall be,
Ful fifteen score shall stand;’
‘I'le lay my bow,’ said Clifton then,
‘I'le cleave the willow wand.’

23

With that the kings archers led about,
While it was three and none;
With that the ladies began to shout,
Madam, your game is gone!

24

‘A boon, a boon,’ Queen Katherine cries,
‘I crave on my bare knee;
Is there any knight of your privy counsel
Of Queen Katherines part will be?

25

‘Come hither to mee, Sir Richard Lee,
Thou art a knight full good;
For I do know by thy pedigree
Thou springst from Goweres blood.

26

‘Come hither to me, thou Bishop of Hereford-shire’ —
For a noble priest was he —
‘By my silver miter,’ said the bishop then,
‘I'le not bet one peny.

27

‘The king hath archers of his own,
Full ready and full light,
And these be strangers every one,
No man knows what they height.’

28

‘What wilt thou bet,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Thou seest our game the worse?’
‘By my silver miter,’ said the bishop then,
‘All the mony within my purse.’

29

‘What is in thy purse?’ said Robin Hood,
‘Throw it down on the ground;’
‘Fifteen score nobles,’ said the bishop then,
‘It's neer an hundred pound.’

30

Robin Hood took his bagge from his side,
And threw it down on the green;
William Scadlocke went smiling away,
‘I know who this mony must win.’

31

With that the queens archers led about,
While it was three and three;
With that the ladies gave a shout,
‘Woodcock, beware thyn ee!’

32

‘It is three and three, now,’ said the king,
‘The next three pays for all;’

202

Robin Hood went and whispered to the queen,
‘The kings part shall be but small.’

33

Robin Hood he led about,
He shot it under hand,
And Clifton, with a bearing arrow,
He clave the willow wand.

34

And little Midge, the Miller's son,
Hee shot not much the worse;
He shot within a finger of the prick;
‘Now, bishop, beware thy purse!’

35

‘A boon, a boon,’ Queen Katherine cries,
‘I crave on my bare knee, —
That you will angry be with none
That is of my party.’

36

‘They shall have forty days to come,
And forty days to go,
And three times forty to sport and play;
Then welcome friend or fo.’

37

‘Then thou art welcome, Robin Hood,’ said the queen,
‘And so is Little John,
So is Midge, the Miller's son;
Thrice welcome every one.’

38

‘Is this Robin Hood?’ the king now said;
‘For it was told to mee
That he was slain in the pallace-gate,
So far in the North Country.’

39

‘Is this Robin Hood,’ said the bishop then,
‘As I see well to be?
Had I knowne that had been that bold outlaw,
I would not have bet one peny.

40

‘Hee took me late one Saturday at night,
And bound mee fast to a tree,
And made mee sing a mass, God wot,
To him and his yeomendree.’

41

‘What and if I did?’ says Robin Hood,
‘Of that mass I was full fain;
For recompense to thee,’ he says,
‘Here's half thy gold again.’

42

‘Now nay, now nay,’ saies Little John,
‘Master, that shall not be;
We must give gifts to the kings officers;
That gold will serve thee and mee.’

Robin Hood, Scarlet and John

ROBIN HOOD AND QUEEN KATHERINE—C

[_]

The Garland of 1663, No 1.

1

Stout Robin Hood, a most lusty out-law,
As ever yet lived in this land,
As ever yet lived in this land.
His equal I'm sure you never yet saw,
So valiant was he of his hand,
So valiant was he of his hand.

2

No archers could ever compare with these three,
Although from us they are gone;
The like was never, nor never will be,
To Robin Hood, Scarlet and John.

3

Many stout robberies by these men were done,
Within this our kingdom so wide;
Vpon the highway much treasure they have won,
No one that his purse ere deny'd.

4

Great store of money they from the kings men
Couragiously did take away;
Vnto fair Queen Katherine they gave it again,
Who to them these words did say.

5

If that I live but another fair year,
Kind Robin Hood, said the fair queen,
The love for this courtesie that I thee bear,
Assure thy self it shall be seen.

6

Brave Robin Hood courteously thanked her Grace,
And so took his leave of the queen;
He with his bold archers then hied him apace,
In summer time, to the woods green.

7

‘Now wend we together, my merry men all,
To the green wood to take up our stand:’
These archers were ready at Robin Hoods call,
With their bent bows all in their hand.

203

8

‘Come, merrily let us now valiantly go
With speed unto the green wood,
And there let us kill a stout buck or a do,
For our master, Robin Hood.’

9

At London must now be a game of shooting,
Where archers should try their best skill;
It was so commanded by their gracious king;
The queen then thought to have her will.

10

Her little foot-page she sent with all speed,
To find out stout Robin Hood,
Who in the North bravely did live, as we read,
With his bow-men in the green wood.

11

When as this young page unto the North came,
He staid under a hill at his inn;
Within the fair town of sweet Nottingham,
He there to enquire did begin.

12

The page then having enquired aright
The way unto Robin Hoods place,
As soon as the page had obtained of him sight,
He told him strange news from her Grace.

13

‘Her Majestie praies you to haste to the court,’
And therewithall shewd him her ring;
We must not delay his swift haste to this sport,
Which then was proclaimd by the king.

14

Then Robin Hood hies him with all speed he may,
With his fair men attired in green,
And towards fair London he then takes his way;
His safety lay all on the queen.

15

Now Robin Hood welcome was then to the court,
Queen Katharine so did allow;
Now listen, my friends, and my song shal report
How the queen performed her vow.

16

The king then went marching in state with his peers
To Finsbury field most gay,
Where Robin Hood follows him, void of all fears,
With his lusty brave shooters that day.

17

The king did command that the way should be
Straight mete with a line that was good;
The answer was made to him presently,
By lusty bold Robin Hood.

18

‘Let there be no mark measured,’ then said he soon;
‘I,’ so said Scarlet and John,
‘For we will shoot to the sun or the moon;
We scorn to be outreacht with none.’

19

‘What shall the wager be?’ then said the queen,
‘Pray tell me before you begin:’
‘Three hundred tuns of good wine shall be seen,
And as much of strong bear for to win.

20

‘Three hundred of lusty fat bucks, sweet, beside,
Shall now be our royal lay:’
Quoth Robin Hood, What ere does betide,
I'le bear this brave purchase away.

21

‘Full fifteenscore,’ saith the king, ‘it shall be;’
Then straight did the bow-men begin,
And Robin Hoods side gave them leave certainly
A while some credit to win.

22

The royal queen Katharine aloud cried she,
Is here no lord, nor yet knight,
That will take my part in this bold enmity?
Sir Robert Lee, pray do me right.

23

Then to the bold Bishop of Herefordshire
Most mildly spoke our good queen;
But he straight refused to lay any more,
Such ods on their parties were seen.

24

‘What wilt thou bet, seeing our game is the worse?’
Unto him then said Robin Hood:
‘Why then,’ quoth the bishop, ‘all that's in my purse;’
Quoth Scarlet, That bargain is good.

25

‘A hundred good pounds there is in the same,’
The bishop unto him did say;
Then said Robin Hood, Now here's for the game,
And to bear this your money away.

26

Then did the kings archer his arrows command
Most bravely and with great might,

204

But brave jolly Robin shot under his hand,
And then did hit the mark right.

27

And Clifton he then, with his arrow so good,
The willow-wood cleaved in two;
The Miller's young son came not short, by the rood,
His skill he most bravely did show.

28

Thus Robin Hood and his crew won the rich prize,
From all archers that there could be;
Then loudly unto the king Queen Katherine cries,
Forgive all my company!

29

The king then did say, that for forty daies,
Free leave then to come or go,
For any man there, though he got the praise,
‘Be he friend,’ quoth he, ‘or be he foe.’

30

Then quoth the queen, Welcome thou art, Robin Hood,
And welcome, brave bow-men all three;
Then straight quoth the king, I did hear, by the rood,
That slain he was in the countrey.

31

‘Is this Robin Hood?’ the bishop did say,
‘Is this Robin Hood certainly?
He made me to say him mass last Saturday,
To him and his bold yeomendry.’

32

‘Well,’ quoth Robin Hood, ‘in requital thereof,
Half thy gold I give unto thee;’
‘Nay, nay,’ then said Little John in a scoff,
‘'T will serue us ith’ North Countrey.’

33

Then Robin Hood pardon had straight of the king,
And so had they every one;
The fame of these days most loudly does ring,
Of Robin Hood, Scarlet and John.

34

Great honours to Robin Hood after were done,
As stories for certain do say;
The king made him Earl of fair Huntington,
Whose fame will never decay.

35

Thus have you heard the fame of these men,
Good archers they were every one;
We never shal see the like shooters again
As Robin Hood, Scarlet and John.

205

146
ROBIN HOOD'S CHASE

ROBIN HOOD'S CHASE

[_]

a. Garland of 1663, No 15.

b. Garland of 1670, No 14.

c. Wood, 401, leaf 29 b.

d. Pepys, II, 104, No 91.

206

1

Come you gallants all, to you I do call,
With a hey down down a down down
That now is within this place,
For a song I will sing of Henry the king,
How he did Robin Hood chase.

2

Queen Katherine she a match then did make,
As plainly doth appear,
For three hundred tun of good red wine,
And three hundred tun of beer.

3

But yet her archers she had to seek,
With their bows and arrows so good;
But her mind it was bent, with a good intent,
To send for bold Robin Hood.

4

But when bold Robin Hood he came there,
Queen Katherine she did say,
Thou art welcome, Locksley, said the queen,
And all thy yeomen gay.

5

For a match at shooting I have made,
And thou my part must be:
‘If I miss the mark, be it light or dark,
Then hanged I will be.’

6

But when the game came to be playd,
Bold Robin he then drew nigh;
With his mantle of green, most brave to be seen,
He let his arrows fly.

7

And when the game it ended was,
Bold Robin wan it with a grace,
But after, the king was angry with him,
And vowed he would him chase.

8

What though his pardon granted was
While he with them did stay,
But yet the king was vexed at him
When as he was gone his way.

9

Soon after the king from the court did hie,
In a furious angry mood,
And often enquire, both far and near,
After bold Robin Hood.

10

But when the king to Nottingham came,
Bold Robin was then in the wood;
‘O come now,’ said he, ‘and let me see
Who can find me bold Robin Hood.’

11

But when that Robin Hood he did hear
The king had him in chase,
Then said Little John, Tis time to be gone,
And go to some other place.

12

Then away they went from merry Sherwood,
And into Yorkshire he did hie,
And the king did follow, with a hoop and a hallow,
But could not come him nigh.

13

Yet jolly Robin he passed along,
He [went] straight to Newcastle town,
And there stayed he hours two or three,
And then he for Berwick was gone.

14

When the king he did see how Robin did flee,
He was vexed wondrous sore;
With a hoop and a hallow he vowed to follow,
And take him, or never give ore.

15

‘Come now, let's away,’ then cries Little John,
‘Let any man follow that dare;
To Carlile wee'l hie with our company,
And so then to Lancaster.’

16

From Lancaster then to Chester they went,
And so did king Henery;
But Robin away, for he durst not stay,
For fear of some treachery.

207

17

Saies Robin, Come, let us to London go,
To see our noble queens face;
It may be she wants our company,
Which makes the king so us chase.

18

When Robin he came Queen Katherine before,
He fell upon his knee:
‘If it please your Grace, I am come to this place,
To speak with king Henery.’

19

Queen Katherine she answered bold Robin again,
The king is gone to merry Sherwood;
And when he went he to me did say
He would go seek Robin Hood.

20

‘Then fare you well, my gracious queen,
For to Sherwood I will hie apace;
For fain would I see what he would with me,
If I could but meet with his Grace.’

21

But when King Henery he came home,
Full weary, and vexed in mind,
When he did hear Robin had been there,
He blamed Dame Fortune unkind.

22

‘You are welcome home,’ Queen Katherine cried,
‘Henry, my soveraign liege;
Bold Robin Hood, that archer good,
Your person hath been to seek.’

23

But when King Henry he did hear
That Robin had been there him to seek,
This answer he gave, He's a cunning knave,
For I have sought him this whole three weeks.

24

‘A boon! a boon!’ Queen Katherine cried,
‘I beg it here on your Grace,
To pardon his life, and seek no more strife:’
And so endeth Robin Hoods chase.

208

147
ROBIN HOOD'S GOLDEN PRIZE

ROBIN HOOD'S GOLDEN PRIZE

[_]

a. Wood, 401, leaf 39 b.

b. Garland of 1663, No 14.

c. Garland of 1670, No 13.

d. Pepys, II, 114, No 101.

209

1

I have heard talk of bold Robin Hood,
Derry derry down
And of brave Little John,
Of Fryer Tuck, and Will Scarlet,
Loxley, and Maid Marion.
Hey down derry derry down

2

But such a tale as this before
I think there was never none;
For Robin Hood disguised himself,
And to the wood is gone.

3

Like to a fryer, bold Robin Hood
Was accoutered in his array;
With hood, gown, beads and crucifix,
He past upon the way.

4

He had not gone [past] miles two or three,
But it was his chance to spy
Two lusty priests, clad all in black,
Come riding gallantly.

5

‘Benedicete,’ then said Robin Hood,
‘Some pitty on me take;
Cross you my hand with a silver groat,
For Our dear Ladies sake.

6

‘For I have been wandring all this day,
And nothing could I get;
Not so much as one poor cup of drink,
Nor bit of bread to eat.’

7

‘Now, by my holydame,’ the priests repli'd,
‘We never a peny have;
For we this morning have been robd,
And could no mony save.’

8

‘I am much afraid,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘That you both do tell a lye;
And now before that you go hence,
I am resolvd to try.’

9

When as the priests heard him say so,
Then they rode away amain;
But Robin Hood betook him to his heels,
And soon overtook them again.

10

Then Robin Hood laid hold of them both,
And pulld them down from their horse:
‘O spare us, fryer!’ the priests cry'd out,
‘On us have some remorse!’

11

‘You said you had no mony,’ quoth he,
‘Wherefore, without delay,
We three will fall down on our knees,
And for mony we will pray.’

12

The priests they could not him gainsay,
But down they kneeled with speed;
‘Send us, O send us,’ then quoth they,
‘Some mony to serve our need.’

13

The priests did pray with mournful chear,
Sometimes their hands did wring,
Sometimes they wept and cried aloud,
Whilst Robin did merrily sing.

14

When they had been praying an hours space,
The priests did still lament;
Then quoth bold Robin, Now let's see
What mony heaven hath us sent.

15

We will be sharers now all alike
Of the mony that we have;
And there is never a one of us
That his fellows shall deceive.

16

The priests their hands in their pockets put,
But mony would find none:
‘We'l search our selves,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Each other, one by one.’

17

Then Robin Hood took pains to search them both,
And he found good store of gold;
Five hundred peeces presently
Vpon the grass was told.

18

‘Here is a brave show,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Such store of gold to see,
And you shall each one have a part,
Cause you prayed so heartily.’

19

He gave them fifty pound a-peece,
And the rest for himself did keep;
The priests durst not speak one word,
But they sighed wondrous deep.

20

With that the priests rose up from their knees,
Thinking to have parted so;
‘Nay, stay,’ said Robin Hood, ‘one thing more
I have to say ere you go.

210

21

‘You shall be sworn,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘Vpon this holy grass,
That you will never tell lies again,
Which way soever you pass.

22

‘The second oath that you here must take,
All the days of your lives
You never shall tempt maids to sin,
Nor lye with other mens wives.

23

‘The last oath you shall take, it is this,
Be charitable to the poor;
Say you have met with a holy fryer,
And I desire no more.’

24

He set them upon their horses again,
And away then they did ride;
And hee returnd to the merry green-wood,
With great joy, mirth and pride.

211

148
THE NOBLE FISHERMAN, OR, ROBIN HOOD'S PREFERMENT

THE NOBLE FISHERMAN, OR, ROBIN HOOD'S PREFERMENT

[_]

a. Wood, 402, p. 18. b. Wood, 401, leaf 25 b. c. Garland of 1663, No 12. d. Garland of 1670, No 11. e. Rawlinson, 566. f. Pepys, II, 108, No 95. g. Pepys, II, 123, No 108.

1

In summer time, when leaves grow green,
When they doe grow both green and long,
Of a bould outlaw, calld Robin Hood,
It is of him I sing this song.

2

When the lilly leafe and the elephant
Doth bud and spring with a merry good cheere,
This outlaw was weary of the wood-side,
And chasing of the fallow deere.

3

‘The fishermen brave more mony have
Then any merchant, two or three;
Therefore I will to Scarborough goe,
That I a fisherman brave may be.’

212

4

This outlaw calld his merry men all,
As they sate under the green-wood tree:
‘If any of you have gold to spend,
I pray you heartily spend it with me.

5

‘Now,’ quoth Robin, ‘I'le to Scarborough goe,
It seemes to be a very faire day;’
Who tooke up his inne at a widdow-womans house,
Hard by upon the water gray.

6

Who asked of him, Where wert thou borne?
Or tell to me, where dost thou fare?
‘I am a poore fisherman,’ saith he then,
‘This day intrapped all in care.’

7

‘What is thy name, thou fine fellow?
I pray thee heartily tell to me;’
‘In mine own country where I was borne,
Men called me Simon over the Lee.’

8

‘Simon, Simon,’ said the good wife,
‘I wish thou maist well brook thy name;’
The outlaw was ware of her courtesie,
And rejoycd he had got such a dame.

9

‘Simon, wilt thou be my man?
And good round wages I'le give thee;
I have as good a ship of mine owne
As any sayle upon the sea.

10

‘Anchors and planks thou shalt want none,
Masts and ropes that are so long;’
‘And if that you thus furnish me,’
Said Simon, ‘nothing shall goe wrong.’

11

They pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle,
More of a day then two or three;
When others cast in their baited hooks,
The bare lines into the sea cast he.

12

‘It will be long,’ said the master then,
‘Ere this great lubber do thrive on the sea;
I'le assure you he shall have no part of our fish,
For in truth he is of no part worthy.’

13

‘O woe is me,’ said Simon then,
‘This day that ever I came here!
I wish I were in Plomton Parke,
In chasing of the fallow deere.

14

‘For every clowne laughs me to scorne,
And they by me set nought at all;
If I had them in Plomton Park,
I would set as little by them all.’

15

They pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle,
More of a day then two or three;
But Simon spied a ship of warre,
That sayld towards them most valourously.

16

‘O woe is me,’ said the master then,
‘This day that ever I was borne!
For all our fish we have got to-day
Is every bit lost and forlorne.

17

‘For your French robbers on the sea,
They will not spare of us one man,
But carry us to the coast of France,
And ligge us in the prison strong.’

18

But Simon said, Doe not feare them,
Neither, master, take you no care;
Give me my bent bow in my hand,
And never a Frenchman will I spare.

19

‘Hold thy peace, thou long lubber,
For thou art nought but braggs and boast;
If I should cast the over-board,
There were nothing but a lubber lost.’

20

Simon grew angry at these words,
And so angry then was he
That he tooke his bent bow in his hand,
And to the ship-hatch goe doth he.

21

‘Master, tye me to the mast,’ saith he,
‘That at my mark I may stand fair,
And give me my bended bow in my hand,
And never a Frenchman will I spare.’

22

He drew his arrow to the very head,
And drew it with all might and maine,
And straightway, in the twinkling of an eye,
Doth the Frenchmans heart the arow gain.

23

The Frenchman fell downe on the ship-hatch,
And under the hatches down below;
Another Frenchman that him espy'd
The dead corps into the sea doth throw.

24

‘O master, loose me from the mast,’ he said,
‘And for them all take you no care,
And give me my bent bow in my hand,
And never a Frenchman will I spare.’

213

25

Then streight [they] did board the Frenchmans ship,
They lying all dead in their sight;
They found within the ship of warre
Twelve thousand pound of money bright.

26

‘The one halfe of the ship,’ said Simon then,
‘I'le give to my dame and children small;
The other halfe of the ship I'le bestow
On you that are my fellowes all.’

27

But now bespake the master then,
For so, Simon, it shall not be;
For you have won her with your own hand,
And the owner of it you shall bee.

28

‘It shall be so, as I have said;
And, with this gold, for the opprest
An habitation I will build,
Where they shall live in peace and rest.’

214

149
ROBIN HOOD'S BIRTH, BREEDING, VALOR AND MARRIAGE

ROBIN HOOD'S BIRTH, BREEDING, VALOR AND MARRIAGE

[_]

a. Roxburghe, I, 360, in The Ballad Society's reprint, II, 440.

b. Pepys, II, 116, No 103. c. Pepys, II, 118, No 104.

215

1

Kind gentlemen, will you be patient awhile?
Ay, and then you shall hear anon
A very good ballad of bold Robin Hood,
And of his man, brave Little John.

2

In Locksly town, in Nottinghamshire,
In merry sweet Locksly town,
There bold Robin Hood he was born and was bred,
Bold Robin of famous renown.

3

The father of Robin a forrester was,
And he shot in a lusty long bow,
Two north country miles and an inch at a shot,
As the Pinder of Wakefield does know.

4

For he brought Adam Bell, and Clim of the Clugh,
And William a Clowdesle
To shoot with our forrester for forty mark,
And the forrester beat them all three.

5

His mother was neece to the Coventry knight,
Which Warwickshire men call Sir Guy;
For he slew the blue bore that hangs up at the gate,
Or mine host of The Bull tells a lye.

6

Her brother was Gamwel, of Great Gamwel Hall,
And a noble house-keeper was he,
Ay, as ever broke bread in sweet Nottinghamshire,
And a squire of famous degree.

7

The mother of Robin said to her husband,
My honey, my love, and my dear,
Let Robin and I ride this morning to Gamwel,
To taste of my brothers good cheer.

8

And he said, I grant thee thy boon, gentle Joan,
Take one of my horses, I pray;
The sun is a rising, and therefore make haste,
For to-morrow is Christmas-day.

9

Then Robin Hoods fathers grey gelding was brought,
And sadled and bridled was he;
God wot, a blew bonnet, his new suit of cloaths,
And a cloak that did reach to his knee.

10

She got on her holiday kirtle and gown,
They were of a light Lincoln green;
The cloath was homespun, but for colour and make
It might a beseemed our queen.

11

And then Robin got on his basket-hilt sword,
And his dagger on his tother side,
And said, My dear mother, let's haste to be gone,
We have forty long miles to ride.

12

When Robin had mounted his gelding so grey,
His father, without any trouble,
Set her up behind him, and bad her not fear,
For his gelding had oft carried double.

13

And when she was settled, they rode to their neighbours,
And drank and shook hands with them all;
And then Robin gallopt, and never gave ore,
Till they lighted at Gamwel Hall.

14

And now you may think the right worshipful squire
Was joyful his sister to see;
For he kist her and kist her, and swore a great oath,
Thou art welcome, kind sister, to me.

15

To-morrow, when mass had been said in the chappel,
Six tables were coverd in the hall,
And in comes the squire, and makes a short speech,
It was, Neighbours, you're welcome all.

16

But not a man here shall taste my March beer,
Till a Christmas carrol he sing:
Then all clapt their hands, and they shouted and sung,
Till the hall and the parlour did ring.

17

Now mustard and braun, roast beef and plumb pies,
Were set upon every table:
And noble George Gamwel said, Eat and be merry,
And drink too, as long as you're able.

18

When dinner was ended, his chaplain said grace,
And, ‘Be merry, my friends,’ said the squire;
‘It rains, and it blows, but call for more ale,
And lay some more wood on the fire.

19

‘And now call ye Little John hither to me,
For Little John is a fine lad
At gambols and juggling, and twenty such tricks
As shall make you merry and glad.’

20

When Little John came, to gambols they went,
Both gentleman, yeoman and clown;
And what do you think? Why, as true as I live,
Bold Robin Hood put them all down.

216

21

And now you may think the right worshipful squire
Was joyful this sight for to see;
For he said, Cousin Robin, thou'st go no more home,
But tarry and dwell here with me.

22

Thou shalt have my land when I dye, and till then
Thou shalt be the staff of my age;
‘Then grant me my boon, dear uncle,’ said Robin,
‘That Little John may be my page.’

23

And he said, Kind cousin, I grant thee thy boon;
With all my heart, so let it be;
‘Then come hither, Little John,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Come hither, my page, unto me.

24

‘Go fetch me my bow, my longest long bow,
And broad arrows, one, two, or three;
For when it is fair weather we'll into Sherwood,
Some merry pastime to see.’

25

When Robin Hood came into merry Sherwood,
He winded his bugle so clear,
And twice five and twenty good yeomen and bold
Before Robin Hood did appear.

26

‘Where are your companions all?’ said Robin Hood,
‘For still I want forty and three;’
Then said a bold yeoman, Lo, yonder they stand,
All under a green-wood tree.

27

As that word was spoke, Clorinda came by;
The queen of the shepherds was she;
And her gown was of velvet as green as the grass,
And her buskin did reach to her knee.

28

Her gait it was graceful, her body was straight,
And her countenance free from pride;
A bow in her hand, and quiver and arrows
Hung dangling by her sweet side.

29

Her eye-brows were black, ay, and so was her hair,
And her skin was as smooth as glass;
Her visage spoke wisdom, and modesty too;
Sets with Robin Hood such a lass!

30

Said Robin Hood, Lady fair, whither away?
O whither, fair lady, away?
And she made him answer, To kill a fat buck;
For to-morrow is Titbury day.

31

Said Robin Hood, Lady fair, wander with me
A little to yonder green bower;
There sit down to rest you, and you shall be sure
Of a brace or a lease in an hour.

32

And as we were going towards the green bower,
Two hundred good bucks we espy'd;
She chose out the fattest that was in the herd,
And she shot him through side and side.

33

‘By the faith of my body,’ said bold Robin Hood,
‘I never saw woman like thee;
And comst thou from east, ay, or comst thou from west,
Thou needst not beg venison of me.

34

‘However, along to my bower you shall go,
And taste of a forresters meat:’
And when we come thither, we found as good cheer
As any man needs for to eat.

35

For there was hot venison, and warden pies cold,
Cream clouted, with honey-combs plenty;
And the sarvitors they were, beside Little John,
Good yeomen at least four and twenty.

36

Clorinda said, Tell me your name, gentle sir;
And he said, 'Tis bold Robin Hood:
Squire Gamwel's my uncle, but all my delight
Is to dwell in the merry Sherwood.

37

For 'tis a fine life, and 'tis void of all strife.
‘So 'tis, sir,’ Clorinda reply'd;
‘But oh,’ said bold Robin, ‘how sweet would it be,
If Clorinda would be my bride!’

38

She blusht at the motion; yet, after a pause
Said, Yes, sir, and with all my heart;
‘Then let's send for a priest,’ said Robin Hood,
‘And be married before we do part.’

39

But she said, It may not be so, gentle sir,
For I must be at Titbury feast;
And if Robin Hood will go thither with me,
I'll make him the most welcome guest.

40

Said Robin Hood, Reach me that buck, Little John,
For I'll go along with my dear;
Go bid my yeomen kill six brace of bucks,
And meet me to-morrow just here.

41

Before we had ridden five Staffordshire miles,
Eight yeomen, that were too bold,
Bid Robin Hood stand, and deliver his buck;
A truer tale never was told.

42

‘I will not, faith!’ said bold Robin: ‘come, John,
Stand to me, and we'll beat em all:’
Then both drew their swords, an so cut em and slasht em
That five of them did fall.

217

43

The three that remaind calld to Robin for quarter,
And pitiful John beggd their lives;
When John's boon was granted, he gave them good counsel,
And so sent them home to their wives.

44

This battle was fought near to Titbury town,
When the bagpipes bated the bull;
I am king of the fidlers, and sware 'tis a truth,
And I call him that doubts it a gull.

45

For I saw them fighting, and fidld the while,
And Clorinda sung, Hey derry down!
The bumpkins are beaten, put up thy sword, Bob,
And now let's dance into the town.

46

Before we came to it, we heard a strange shouting,
And all that were in it lookd madly;
For some were a bull-back, some dancing a morris,
And some singing Arthur-a-Bradly.

47

And there we see Thomas, our justices clerk,
And Mary, to whom he was kind;
For Tom rode before her, and calld Mary, Madam,
And kist her full sweetly behind.

48

And so may your worships. But we went to dinner,
With Thomas and Mary and Nan;
They all drank a health to Clorinda, and told her
Bold Robin Hood was a fine man.

49

When dinner was ended, Sir Roger, the parson
Of Dubbridge, was sent for in haste;
He brought his mass-book, and he bade them take hands,
And he joynd them in marriage full fast.

50

And then, as bold Robin Hood and his sweet bride
Went hand in hand to the green bower,
The birds sung with pleasure in merry Sherwood,
And 'twas a most joyful hour.

51

And when Robin came in the sight of the bower,
‘Where are my yeomen?’ said he;
And Little John answered, Lo, yonder they stand,
All under the green-wood tree.

52

Then a garland they brought her, by two and by two,
And plac'd them upon the bride's head;
The music struck up, and we all fell to dance,
Till the bride and the groom were a-bed.

53

And what they did there must be counsel to me,
Because they lay long the next day,
And I had haste home, but I got a good piece
Of the bride-cake, and so came away.

54

Now out, alas! I had forgotten to tell ye
That marryd they were with a ring;
And so will Nan Knight, or be buried a maiden,
And now let us pray for the king:

55

That he may get children, and they may get more,
To govern and do us some good;
And then I'll make ballads in Robin Hood's bower,
And sing em in merry Sherwood.

218

150
ROBIN HOOD AND MAID MARIAN

ROBIN HOOD AND MAID MARIAN

[_]

Wood, 401, leaf 21 b.

1

A bonny fine maid of a noble degree,
With a hey down down a down down
Maid Marian calld by name,
Did live in the North, of excellent worth,
For she was a gallant dame.

2

For favour and face, and beauty most rare,
Queen Hellen shee did excell;
For Marian then was praisd of all men
That did in the country dwell.

3

'Twas neither Rosamond nor Jane Shore,
Whose beauty was clear and bright,
That could surpass this country lass,
Beloved of lord and knight.

4

The Earl of Huntington, nobly born,
That came of noble blood,
To Marian went, with a good intent,
By the name of Robin Hood.

5

With kisses sweet their red lips meet,
For shee and the earl did agree;
In every place, they kindly imbrace,
With love and sweet unity.

219

6

But fortune bearing these lovers a spight,
That soon they were forced to part,
To the merry green wood then went Robin Hood,
With a sad and sorrowfull heart.

7

And Marian, poor soul, was troubled in mind,
For the absence of her friend;
With finger in eye, shee often did cry,
And his person did much comend.

8

Perplexed and vexed, and troubled in mind,
Shee drest her self like a page,
And ranged the wood to find Robin Hood,
The bravest of men in that age.

9

With quiver and bow, sword, buckler, and all,
Thus armed was Marian most bold,
Still wandering about to find Robin out,
Whose person was better then gold.

10

But Robin Hood, hee himself had disguisd,
And Marian was strangly attir'd,
That they provd foes, and so fell to blowes,
Whose vallour bold Robin admir'd.

11

They drew out their swords, and to cutting they went,
At least an hour or more,
That the blood ran apace from bold Robins face,
And Marian was wounded sore.

12

‘O hold thy hand, hold thy hand,’ said Robin Hood,
‘And thou shalt be one of my string,
To range in the wood with bold Robin Hood,
To hear the sweet nightingall sing.’

13

When Marian did hear the voice of her love,
Her self shee did quickly discover,
And with kisses sweet she did him greet,
Like to a most loyall lover.

14

When bold Robin Hood his Marian did see,
Good lord, what clipping was there!
With kind imbraces, and jobbing of faces,
Providing of gallant cheer.

15

For Little John took his bow in his hand,
And wandring in the wood,
To kill the deer, and make good chear,
For Marian and Robin Hood.

16

A stately banquet the[y] had full soon,
All in a shaded bower,
Where venison sweet they had to eat,
And were merry that present hour.

17

Great flaggons of wine were set on the board,
And merrily they drunk round
Their boules of sack, to strengthen the back,
Whilst their knees did touch the ground.

18

First Robin Hood began a health
To Marian his onely dear,
And his yeomen all, both comly and tall,
Did quickly bring up the rear.

19

For in a brave veine they tost off the[ir] bouls,
Whilst thus they did remain,
And every cup, as they drunk up,
They filled with speed again.

20

At last they ended their merryment,
And went to walk in the wood,
Where Little John and Maid Marian
Attended on bold Robin Hood.

21

In sollid content together they livd,
With all their yeomen gay;
They livd by their hands, without any lands,
And so they did many a day.

22

But now to conclude, an end I will make
In time, as I think it good,
For the people that dwell in the North can tell
Of Marian and bold Robin Hood.

220

151
THE KING'S DISGUISE, AND FRIENDSHIP WITH ROBIN HOOD

THE KING'S DISGUISE, AND FRIENDSHIP WITH ROBIN HOOD

[_]

a. Robin Hood's Garland, London, W. & C. Dicey, in St Mary Aldermary Church Yard, Bow Lane, Cheapside, n. d. (but not older than 1753), p. 76, No 25. b. Robin Hood's Garland, London, Printed by L. How, in Peticoat Lane, n. d. c. ‘The King's Disguise and True Friendship with Robin Hood,’ London, Printed by L. How, in Petticoat Lane, Douce Ballads, III, 113 b (not black letter). d. Robin Hood's Garland, London, R. Marshall, in Aldermary Church-Yard, Bow-Lane, n. d., p. 80, No 25.

1

King Richard hearing of the pranks
Of Robin Hood and his men,
He much admir'd, and more desir'd,
To see both him and them.

2

Then with a dozen of his lords
To Nottingham he rode;
When he came there, he made good cheer,
And took up his abode.

3

He having staid there some time,
But had no hopes to speed,
He and his lords, with [free] accord,
All put on monk's weeds.

4

From Fountain-abby they did ride,
Down to Barnsdale;
Where Robin Hood preparëd stood
All company to assail.

5

The king was higher then the rest,
And Robin thought he had
An abbot been whom he did spleen;
To rob him he was glad.

6

He took the king's horse by the head,
‘Abbot,’ says he, ‘abide;
I am bound to rue such knaves as you,
That live in pomp and pride.’

7

‘But we are messengers from the king,’
The king himself did say;
‘Near to this place his royal Grace
To speak with thee does stay.’

221

8

‘God save the king,’ said Robin Hood,
‘And all that wish him well;
He that does deny his sovereignty,
I wish he was in hell.’

9

‘O thyself thou curses,’ says the king,
‘For thou a traitor art:’
‘Nay, but that you are his messenger,
I swear you lie in heart.

10

‘For I never yet hurt any man
That honest is and true;
But those that give their minds to live
Upon other men's due.

11

‘I never hurt the husbandman,
That use to till the ground;
Nor spill their blood that range the wood
To follow hawk or hound.

12

‘My chiefest spite to clergy is,
Who in these days bear a great sway;
With fryars and monks, with their fine sprunks,
I make my chiefest prey.

13

‘But I am very glad,’ says Robin Hood,
‘That I have met you here;
Come, before we end, you shall, my friend,
Taste of our green-wood cheer.’

14

The king did then marvel much,
And so did all his men;
They thought with fear, what kind of cheer
Robin would provide for them.

15

Robin took the king's horse by the head,
And led him to the tent;
‘Thou would not be so usd,’ quoth he,
‘But that my king thee sent.

16

‘Nay, more than that,’ said Robin Hood,
‘For good king Richard's sake,
If you had as much gold as ever I told,
I would not one penny take.’

17

Then Robin set his horn to his mouth,
And a loud blast he did blow,
Till a hundred and ten of Robin Hood's men
Came marching all of a row.

18

And when they came bold Robin before,
Each man did bend his knee;
‘O,’ thought the king, ‘'tis a gallant thing,
And a seemly sight to see.’

19

Within himself the king did say,
These men of Robin Hood's
More humble be than mine to me;
So the court may learn of the woods.

20

So then they all to dinner went,
Upon a carpet green;
Black, yellow, red, finely minglëd,
Most curious to be seen.

21

Venison and fowls were plenty there,
With fish out of the river:
King Richard swore, on sea or shore,
He neer was feasted better.

22

Then Robin takes a can of ale:
‘Come, let us now begin;
Come, every man shall have his can;
Here's a health unto the king.’

23

The king himself drank to the king,
So round about it went;
Two barrels of ale, both stout and stale,
To pledge that health were spent.

24

And after that, a bowl of wine
In his hand took Robin Hood;
‘Until I die, I'll drink wine,’ said he,
‘While I live in the green-wood.

25

‘Bend all your bows,’ said Robin Hood,
‘And with the grey goose wing
Such sport now shew as you would do
In the presence of the king.’

26

They shewd such brave archery,
By cleaving sticks and wands,
That the king did say, Such men as they
Live not in many lands.

27

‘Well, Robin Hood,’ then says the king,
‘If I could thy pardon get,
To serve the king in every thing
Wouldst thou thy mind firm set?’

28

‘Yes, with all my heart,’ bold Robin said,
So they flung off their hoods;
To serve the king in every thing,
They swore they would spend their bloods.

29

‘For a clergyman was first my bane,
Which makes me hate them all;
But if you'll be so kind to me,
Love them again I shall.’

30

The king no longer could forbear,
For he was movd with ruth;
[‘Robin,’ said he, ‘I now tell thee
The very naked truth.]

31

‘I am the king, thy sovereign king,
That appears before you all;’
When Robin see that it was he,
Strait then he down did fall.

222

32

‘Stand up again,’ then said the king,
‘I'll thee thy pardon give;
Stand up, my friend; who can contend,
When I give leave to live?’

33

So they are all gone to Nottingham,
All shouting as they came;
But when the people them did see,
They thought the king was slain,

34

And for that cause the outlaws were come,
To rule all as they list;
And for to shun, which way to run
The people did not wist.

35

The plowman left the plow in the fields,
The smith ran from his shop;
Old folks also, that scarce could go,
Over their sticks did hop.

36

The king soon let them understand
He had been in the green wood,
And from that day, for evermore,
He'd forgiven Robin Hood.

37

When the people they did hear,
And the truth was known,
They all did sing, ‘God save the king!
Hang care, the town's our own!’

38

‘What's that Robin Hood?’ then said the sheriff;
‘That varlet I do hate;
Both me and mine he causd to dine,
And servd us all with one plate.’

39

‘Ho, ho,’ said Robin, ‘I know what you mean;
Come, take your gold again;
Be friends with me, and I with thee,
And so with every man.

40

‘Now, master sheriff, you are paid,
And since you are beginner,
As well as you give me my due;
For you neer paid for that dinner.

41

‘But if that it should please the king
So much your house to grace
To sup with you, for to speak true,
[I] know you neer was base.’

42

The sheriff could not [that] gain say,
For a trick was put upon him;
A supper was drest, the king was guest,
But he thought 'twould have undone him.

43

They are all gone to London court,
Robin Hood, with all his train;
He once was there a noble peer,
And now he's there again.

44

Many such pranks brave Robin playd
While he lived in the green wood:
Now, my friends, attend, and hear an end
Of honest Robin Hood.

223

152
ROBIN HOOD AND THE GOLDEN ARROW

ROBIN HOOD AND THE GOLDEN ARROW

[_]

a. Robin Hood's Garland, London, W. and C. Dicey, St Mary Aldermary Church-yard, Bow-Lane, n. d., p. 80, No 26. b. Robin Hood's Garland, London, R. Marshall, in Aldermary Church-yard, Bow-Lane, n. d., p. 84, No 26. c. Robin Hood's Garland, Preston, Printed and sold by W. Sergent, n. d.

1

When as the sheriff of Nottingham
Was come, with mickle grief,
He talkd no good of Robin Hood,
That strong and sturdy thief.
Fal lal dal de

2

So unto London-road he past,
His losses to unfold
To King Richard, who did regard
The tale that he had told.

3

‘Why,’ quoth the king, ‘what shall I do?
Art thou not sheriff for me?
The law is in force, go take thy course
Of them that injure thee.

4

‘Go get thee gone, and by thyself
Devise some tricking game
For to enthral yon rebels all;
Go take thy course with them.’

5

So away the sheriff he returnd,
And by the way he thought
Of the words of the king, and how the thing
To pass might well be brought.

6

For within his mind he imagined
That when such matches were,
Those outlaws stout, without [all] doubt,
Would be the bowmen there.

7

So an arrow with a golden head
And shaft of silver white,
Who won the day should bear away
For his own proper right.

8

Tidings came to brave Robin Hood,
Under the green-wood tree:
‘Come prepare you then, my merry men,
We'll go yon sport to see.’

9

With that stept forth a brave young man,
David of Doncaster:
‘Master,’ said he, ‘be ruld by me,
From the green-wood we'll not stir.

10

‘To tell the truth, I'm well informed
Yon match is a wile;
The sheriff, I wiss, devises this
Us archers to beguile.’

224

11

‘O thou smells of a coward,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Thy words does not please me;
Come on't what will, I'll try my skill
At yon brave archery.’

12

O then bespoke brave Little John:
Come, let us thither gang;
Come listen to me, how it shall be
That we need not be kend.

13

Our mantles, all of Lincoln green,
Behind us we will leave;
We'll dress us all so several
They shall not us perceive.

14

One shall wear white, another red,
One yellow, another blue;
Thus in disguise, to the exercise
We'll gang, whateer ensue.

15

Forth from the green-wood they are gone,
With hearts all firm and stout,
Resolving [then] with the sheriff's men
To have a hearty bout.

16

So themselves they mixed with the rest,
To prevent all suspicion;
For if they should together hold
They thought [it] no discretion.

17

So the sheriff looking round about,
Amongst eight hundred men,
But could not see the sight that he
Had long expected then.

18

Some said, If Robin Hood was here,
And all his men to boot,
Sure none of them could pass these men,
So bravely they do shoot.

19

‘Ay,’ quoth the sheriff, and scratchd his head,
‘I thought he would have been here;
I thought he would, but, tho he's bold,
He durst not now appear.’

20

O that word grieved Robin Hood to the heart;
He vexëd in his blood;
Eer long, thought he, thou shalt well see
That here was Robin Hood.

21

Some cried, Blue jacket! another cried, Brown!
And the third cried, Brave Yellow!
But the fourth man said, Yon man in red
In this place has no fellow.

22

For that was Robin Hood himself,
For he was cloathd in red;
At every shot the prize he got,
For he was both sure and dead.

23

So the arrow with the golden head
And shaft of silver white
Brave Robin Hood won, and bore with him
For his own proper right.

24

These outlaws there, that very day,
To shun all kind of doubt,
By three or four, no less no more,
As they went in came out.

25

Until they all assembled were
Under the green-wood shade,
Where they report, in pleasant sport,
What brave pastime they made.

26

Says Robin Hood, All my care is,
How that yon sheriff may
Know certainly that it was I
That bore his arrow away.

27

Says Little John, My counsel good
Did take effect before,
So therefore now, if you'll allow,
I will advise once more.

28

‘Speak on, speak on,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Thy wit's both quick and sound;
[I know no man amongst us can
For wit like thee be found.’]

29

‘This I advise,’ said Little John;
‘That a letter shall be pend,
And when it is done, to Nottingham
You to the sheriff shall send.’

30

‘That is well advised,’ said Robin Hood,
‘But how must it be sent?’
‘Pugh! when you please, it's done with ease,
Master, be you content.

31

‘I'll stick it on my arrow's head,
And shoot it into the town;
The mark shall show where it must go,
When ever it lights down.’

32

The project it was full performd;
The sheriff that letter had;
Which when he read, he scratchd his head,
And rav'd like one that's mad.

33

So we'll leave him chafing in his grease,
Which will do him no good;
Now, my friends, attend, and hear the end
Of honest Robin Hood.

225

153
ROBIN HOOD AND THE VALIANT KNIGHT

ROBIN HOOD AND THE VALIANT KNIGHT

[_]

a. Robin Hood's Garland, London, C. Dicey, Bow Church Yard, n. d., but before 1741, p. 88, Bodleian Library, Douce H H, 88. b. Robin Hood's Garland, 1749, without place or printer, p. 101, No 24. c. Robin Hood's Garland, London, R. Marshall, in Aldermary Church-Yard, Bow-Lane, n. d., p. 87, No 27.

1

When Robin Hood, and his merry men all,
Derry, etc.
Had reigned many years,
The king was then told they had been too bold
To his bishops and noble peers.
Hey, etc.

2

Therefore they called a council of state,
To know what was best to be done
For to quell their pride, or else, they reply'd,
The land would be over-run.

3

Having consulted a whole summers day,
At length it was agreed
That one should be sent to try the event,
And fetch him away with speed.

4

Therefore a trusty and worthy knight
The king was pleasd to call,
Sir William by name; when to him he came,
He told him his pleasure all.

5

‘Go you from hence to bold Robin Hood,
And bid him, without more a-do,
Surrender himself, or else the proud elf
Shall suffer with all his crew.

6

‘Take here a hundred bowmen brave,
All chosen men of might,
Of excellent art for to take thy part,
In glittering armour bright.’

7

Then said the knight, My sovereign liege,
By me they shall be led;
I'll venture my blood against bold Robin Hood,
And bring him alive or dead.

8

One hundred men were chosen straight,
As proper as eer men saw;
On Midsummer-day they marched away,
To conquer that brave outlaw.

9

With long yew bows and shining spears,
They marchd in mickle pride,
And never delayd, or halted, or stayd,
Till they came to the greenwood-side.

10

Said he to his archers, Tarry here;
Your bows make ready all,
That, if need should be, you may follow me;
And see you observe my call.

226

11

‘I'll go in person first,’ he cry'd,
‘With the letters of my good king,
Both signd and seald, and if he will yield,
We need not draw one string.’

12

He wanderd about till at length he came
To the tent of Robin Hood;
The letter he shews; bold Robin arose,
And there on his guard he stood.

13

‘They'd have me surrender,’ quoth bold Robin Hood,
‘And lie at their mercy then;
But tell them from me, that never shall be,
While I have full seven-score men.’

14

Sir William the knight, both hardy and bold,
Did offer to seize him there,
Which William Locksly by fortune did see,
And bid him that trick forbear.

15

Then Robin Hood set his horn to his mouth,
And blew a blast or twain,
And so did the knight, at which there in sight
The archers came all amain.

16

Sir William with care he drew up his men,
And plac'd them in battle array;
Bold Robin, we find, he was not behind;
Now this was a bloody fray.

17

The archers on both sides bent their bows,
And the clouds of arrows flew;
The very first flight, that honoured knight
Did there bid the world adieu.

18

Yet nevertheless their fight did last
From morning till almost noon;
Both parties were stout, and loath to give out;
This was on the last [day] of June.

19

At length they went off; one part they went
To London with right good will;
And Robin Hood he to the green-wood tree,
And there he was taken ill.

20

He sent for a monk, who let him blood,
And took his life away;
Now this being done, his archers they run,
It was not a time to stay.

21

Some got on board and crossd the seas,
To Flanders, France, and Spain,
And others to Rome, for fear of their doom,
But soon returnd again.

22

Thus he that never feard bow nor spear
Was murderd by letting of blood;
And so, loving friends, the story doth end
Of valiant bold Robin Hood.

23

There's nothing remains but his epitaph now,
Which, reader, here you have;
To this very day, and read it you may,
As it was upon his grave.

Robin Hood's Epitaph, Set on his tomb By the Prioress of Birkslay Monastery, in Yorkshire.

Robin, Earl of Huntington,
Lies under this little stone.
No archer was like him so good;
His wildness nam'd him Robin Hood.
Full thirteen years, and something more,
These northern parts he vexed sore.
Such outlaws as he and his men
May England never know again!

227

154
A TRUE TALE OF ROBIN HOOD

A TRUE TALE OF ROBIN HOOD

[_]

Martin Parker's True Tale of Robin Hood was entered to Francis Grove the 29th of February, 1632: Stationers' Registers, Arber, IV, 273. A copy in the British Museum (press-mark C. 39. a. 52), is here reprinted.

1

Both gentlemen, or yeomen bould,
Or whatsoever you are,
To have a stately story tould,
Attention now prepare.

2

It is a tale of Robin Hood,
Which I to you will tell,
Which being rightly understood,
I know will please you well.

3

This Robbin, so much talked on,
Was once a man of fame,
Instiled Earle of Huntington,
Lord Robert Hood by name.

228

4

In courtship and magnificence,
His carriage won him prayse,
And greater favour with his prince
Than any in his dayes.

5

In bounteous liberality
He too much did excell,
And loved men of quality
More than exceeding well.

6

His great revennues all he sould
For wine and costly cheere;
He kept three hundred bowmen bold,
He shooting lovd so deare.

7

No archer living in his time
With him might well compare;
He practisd all his youthfull prime
That exercise most rare.

8

At last, by his profuse expence,
He had consumd his wealth,
And being outlawed by his prince,
In woods he livd by stealth.

9

The abbot of Saint Maries rich,
To whom he mony ought,
His hatred to this earle was such
That he his downefall wrought.

10

So being outlawed, as 'tis told,
He with a crew went forth
Of lusty cutters, stout and bold,
And robbed in the North.

11

Among the rest, one Little John,
A yeoman bold and free,
Who could, if it stood him upon,
With ease encounter three.

12

One hundred men in all he got,
With whom, the story sayes,
Three hundred common men durst not
Hold combate any wayes.

13

They Yorkshire woods frequented much,
And Lancashire also,
Wherein their practises were such
That they wrought mickle woe.

14

None rich durst travell to and fro,
Though nere so strongly armd,
But by these theeves, so strong in show,
They still were robd and harmd.

15

His chiefest spight to the clergie was,
That lived in monstrous pride;
No one of them he would let passe
Along the high-way side,

16

But first they must to dinner goe,
And afterwards to shrift:
Full many a one he served so,
Thus while he livd by theft.

17

No monkes nor fryers he would let goe,
Without paying their fees:
If they thought much to be usd so,
Their stones he made them leese.

18

For such as they the country filld
With bastards in those dayes;
Which to prevent, these sparkes did geld
All that came by their wayes.

19

But Robbin Hood so gentle was,
And bore so brave a minde,
If any in distresse did passe,
To them he was so kinde

20

That he would give and lend to them,
To helpe them at their neede:
This made all poore men pray for him,
And wish he well might speede.

21

The widdow and the fatherlesse
He would send meanes unto,
And those whom famine did oppresse
Found him a friendly foe.

22

Nor would he doe a woman wrong,
But see her safe conveid;
He would protect with power strong
All those who crav'd his ayde.

23

The abbot of Saint Maries then,
Who him undid before,
Was riding with two hundred men,
And gold and silver store.

24

But Robbin Hood upon him set
With his couragious sparkes,
And all the coyne perforce did get,
Which was twelve thousand markes.

25

He bound the abbot to a tree,
And would not let him passe
Before that to his men and he
His lordship had sayd masse.

26

Which being done, upon his horse
He set him fast astride,
And with his face towards his ar—
He forced him to ride.

27

His men were faine to be his guide,
For he rode backward home;
The abbot, being thus villifide,
Did sorely chafe and fume.

229

28

Thus Robbin Hood did vindicate
His former wrongs receivd;
For 'twas this covetous prelate
That him of land bereavd.

29

The abbot he rode to the king
With all the haste he could,
And to his Grace he every thing
Exactly did unfold.

30

And sayd if that no course were tane,
By force or stratagem,
To take this rebell and his traine,
No man should passe for them.

31

The king protested by and by
Unto the abbot then
That Robbin Hood with speed should dye,
With all his merry men.

32

But ere the king did any send,
He did another feate,
Which did his Grace much more offend;
The fact indeed was great.

33

For in a short time after that,
The kings receivers went
Towards London with the coyne they got,
For's Highnesse northerne rent.

34

Bold Robbin Hood and Little John,
With the rest of their traine,
Not dreading law, set them upon,
And did their gold obtaine.

35

The king much moved at the same,
And the abbots talke also,
In this his anger did proclaime,
And sent word to and fro,

36

That whosoere, alive or dead,
Could bring him Robbin Hood,
Should have one thousand markes, well payd
In gold and silver good.

37

This promise of the king did make
Full many yeomen bold
Attempt stout Robbin Hood to take,
With all the force they could.

38

But still when any came to him,
Within the gay greene wood,
He entertainement gave to them,
With venison fat and good.

39

And shewd to them such martiall sport,
With his long bow and arrow,
That they of him did give report,
How that it was great sorow,

40

That such a worthy man as he
Should thus be put to shift,
Being late a lord of high degree,
Of living quite bereft.

41

The king, to take him, more and more
Sent men of mickle might,
But he and his still beate them sore,
And conquered them in fight.

42

Or else, with love and courtesie,
To him he won their hearts:
Thus still he lived by robbery,
Throughout the northerne parts.

43

And all the country stood in dread
Of Robbin Hood and's men;
For stouter lads nere livd by bread,
In those dayes nor since then.

44

The abbot which before I nam'd
Sought all the meanes he could
To have by force this rebell tane,
And his adherents bold.

45

Therefore he armd five hundred men,
With furniture compleate,
But the outlawes slew halfe of them,
And made the rest retreate.

46

The long bow and the arrow keene
They were so usd unto
That still they kept the forest greene,
In spight o th' proudest foe.

47

Twelve of the abbots men he tooke,
Who came him to have tane,
When all the rest the field forsooke;
These he did entertaine

48

With banquetting and merriment,
And, having usd them well,
He to their lord them safely sent,
And willd them him to tell

49

That if he would be pleasd at last
To beg of our good king
That he might pardon what was past,
And him to favour bring,

50

He would surrender backe agen
The money which before
Was taken by him and his men,
From him and many more.

51

Poore men might safely passe by him,
And some that way would chuse,
For well they knew that to helpe them
He evermore did use.

230

52

But where he knew a miser rich,
That did the poore oppresse,
To feele his coyne his hand did itch;
Hee'de have it, more or lesse.

53

And sometimes, when the high-way fayld,
Then he his courage rouses;
He and his men have oft assayld
Such rich men in their houses.

54

So that, through dread of Robbin then
And his adventurous crew,
The mizers kept great store of men,
Which else maintaynd but few.

55

King Richard, of that name the first,
Sirnamed Cuer de Lyon,
Went to defeate the Pagans curst,
Who kept the coasts of Syon.

56

The Bishop of Ely, chancelor,
Was left as vice-roy here,
Who like a potent emperor
Did proudly domminere.

57

Our chronicles of him report
That commonly he rode
With a thousand horse from court to court,
Where he would make abode.

58

He, riding downe towards the north,
With his aforesayd traine,
Robbin and his did issue forth,
Them all to entertaine.

59

And, with the gallant gray-goose wing,
They shewed to them such play,
That made their horses kicke and fling,
And downe their riders lay.

60

Full glad and faine the bishop was,
For all his thousand men,
To seeke what meanes he could to passe
From out of Robbins ken.

61

Two hundred of his men were kil'd,
And fourescore horses good;
Thirty, who did as captives yeeld,
Were carryed to the greene wood.

62

Which afterwards were ransomed,
For twenty markes a man;
The rest set spurres to horse, and fled
To th' town of Warrington.

63

The bishop, sore enraged then,
Did, in King Richards name,
Muster a power of northerne men,
These outlawes bold to tame.

64

But Robbin, with his courtesie,
So wonne the meaner sort,
That they were loath on him to try
What rigor did import.

65

So that bold Robbin and his traine
Did live unhurt of them,
Vntill King Richard came againe
From faire Jerusalem.

66

And then the talke of Robbin Hood
His royall eares did fill;
His Grace admir'd that ith' greene wood
He thus continued still.

67

So that the country farre and neare
Did give him great applause;
For none of them neede stand in feare,
But such as broke the lawes.

68

He wished well unto the king,
And prayed still for his health,
And never practised any thing
Against the common wealth.

69

Onely, because he was undone
By th' crewell clergie then,
All meanes that he could thinke upon
To vexe such kinde of men

70

He enterprized, with hatefull spleene;
In which he was to blame,
For fault of some, to wreeke his teene
On all that by him came.

71

With wealth which he by robbery got
Eight almes-houses he built,
Thinking thereby to purge the blot
Of blood which he had spilt.

72

Such was their blinde devotion then,
Depending on their workes;
Which, if 'twere true, we Christian men
Inferiour were to Turkes.

73

But, to speake true of Robbin Hood,
And wrong him not a iot,
He never would shed any mans blood
That him invaded not.

74

Nor would he iniure husbandmen,
That toyld at cart and plough;
For well he knew, were 'tnot for them,
To live no man knew how.

75

The king in person, with some lords,
To Notingham did ride,
To try what strength and skill affords
To crush these outlawes pride.

231

76

And, as he once before had done,
He did againe proclaime,
That whosoere would take upon
To bring to Notingham,

77

Or any place within the land,
Rebellious Robbin Hood,
Should be preferd in place to stand
With those of noble blood.

78

When Robbin Hood heard of the same,
Within a little space,
Into the towne of Notingham
A letter to his Grace

79

He shot upon an arrow-head,
One evening cunningly;
Which was brought to the king, and read
Before his Maiestie.

80

The tennour of this letter was
That Robbin would submit,
And be true leigeman to his Grace,
In any thing that's fit,

81

So that his Highnesse would forgive
Him and his merry men all;
If not, he must i th' greene wood live,
And take what chance did fall.

82

The king would faine have pardoned him,
But that some lords did say,
This president will much condemne
Your Grace another day.

83

While that the king and lords did stay
Debating on this thing,
Some of these outlawes fled away
Unto the Scottish king.

84

For they supposd, if he were tane,
Or to the king did yeeld,
By th' commons all the rest on's traine
Full quickely would be quelld.

85

Of more than full a hundred men
But forty tarryed still,
Who were resolvd to sticke to him,
Let fortune worke her will.

86

If none had fled, all for his sake
Had got their pardon free;
The king to favour meant to take
His merry men and he.

87

But ere the pardon to him came,
This famous archer dy'd:
His death, and manner of the same,
I'le presently describe.

88

For, being vext to thinke upon
His followers revolt,
In melancholly passion
He did recount their fault.

89

‘Perfideous traytors!’ sayd he then,
‘In all your dangers past
Have I you guarded as my men
To leave me thus at last?’

90

This sad perplexity did cause
A fever, as some say,
Which him unto confusion drawes,
Though by a stranger way.

91

This deadly danger to prevent,
He hide him with all speede
Vnto a nunnery, with intent
For his healths sake to bleede.

92

A faithlesse fryer did pretend
In love to let him blood;
But he by falshood wrought the end
Of famous Robbin Hood.

93

The fryer, as some say, did this
To vindicate the wrong
Which to the clergie he and his
Had done by power strong.

94

Thus dyed he by trechery,
That could not dye by force;
Had he livd longer, certainely,
King Richard, in remorse,

95

Had unto favour him receavd;
He brave men elevated;
'Tis pitty he was of life bereavd
By one which he so hated.

96

A treacherous leech this fryer was,
To let him bleed to death;
And Robbin was, me thinkes, an asse,
To trust him with his breath.

97

His corpes the priores of the place,
The next day that he dy'd,
Caused to be buried, in mean case,
Close by the high-way side.

98

And over him she caused a stone
To be fixed on the ground;
An epitaph was set thereon,
Wherein his name was found.

99

The date o th' yeare, and day also,
Shee made to be set there,
That all who by the way did goe
Might see it plaine appeare

232

100

That such a man as Robbin Hood
Was buried in that place;
And how he lived in the greene wood,
And robd there for a space.

101

It seemes that though the clergie he
Had put to mickle woe,
He should not quite forgotten be,
Although he was their foe.

102

This woman, though she did him hate,
Yet loved his memory;
And thought it wondrous pitty that
His fame should with him dye.

103

This epitaph, as records tell,
Within this hundred yeares
By many was discerned well,
But time all things outweares.

104

His followers, when he was dead,
Were some received to grace;
The rest to forraigne countries fled,
And left their native place.

105

Although his funerall was but meane,
This woman had in minde
Least his fame should be buried cleane
From those that came behind.

106

For certainely, before nor since,
No man ere understood,
Vnder the reigne of any prince,
Of one like Robbin Hood.

107

Full thirteene yeares, and something more,
These outlawes lived thus,
Feared of the rich, loved of the poore,
A thing most marvelous.

108

A thing impossible to us
This story seemes to be;
None dares be now so venturous;
But times are chang'd, we see.

109

We that live in these latter dayes
Of civill government,
If neede be, have a hundred wayes
Such outlawes to prevent.

110

In those dayes men more barbarous were,
And lived lesse in awe;
Now, God be thanked! people feare
More to offend the law.

111

No roaring guns were then in use,
They dreampt of no such thing;
Our English men in fight did chuse
The gallant gray-goose wing.

112

In which activity these men,
Through practise, were so good,
That in those dayes non equald them,
Specially Robbin Hood.

113

So that, it seemes, keeping in caves,
In woods and forrests thicke,
Thei'd beate a multitude with staves,
Their arrowes did so pricke.

114

And none durst neare unto them come,
Unlesse in courtesie;
All such he bravely would send home,
With mirth and iollity.

115

Which courtesie won him such love,
As I before have told;
'Twas the cheefe cause that he did prove
More prosperous than he could.

116

Let us be thankefull for these times
Of plenty, truth and peace,
And leave our great and horrid crimes,
Least they cause this to cease.

117

I know there's many fained tales
Of Robbin Hood and's crew;
But chronicles, which seldome fayles,
Reports this to be true.

118

Let none then thinke this a lye,
For, if 'twere put to th' worst,
They may the truth of all discry
I th' raigne of Richard the first.

119

If any reader please to try,
As I direction show,
The truth of this brave history,
Hee'l finde it true I know.

120

And I shall thinke my labour well
Bestowed, to purpose good,
When 'tshall be sayd that I did tell
True tales of Robbin Hood.

233

155
SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER

243

Hugh of Lincoln

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—A

[_]

Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 151, as taken down by the editor from Mrs Brown's recitation.

1

Four and twenty bonny boys
Were playing at the ba,
And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh,
And he playd oer them a'.

2

He kickd the ba with his right foot,
And catchd it wi his knee,
And throuch-and-thro the Jew's window
He gard the bonny ba flee.

3

He's doen him to the Jew's castell,
And walkd it round about;
And there he saw the Jew's daughter,
At the window looking out.

4

‘Throw down the ba, ye Jew's daughter,
Throw down the ba to me!’
‘Never a bit,’ says the Jew's daughter,
‘Till up to me come ye.’

5

‘How will I come up? How can I come up?
How can I come to thee?
For as ye did to my auld father,
The same ye'll do to me.’

6

She's gane till her father's garden,
And pu'd an apple red and green;
'Twas a' to wyle him sweet Sir Hugh,
And to entice him in.

7

She's led him in through ae dark door,
And sae has she thro nine;
She's laid him on a dressing-table,
And stickit him like a swine.

8

And first came out the thick, thick blood,
And syne came out the thin,
And syne came out the bonny heart's blood;
There was nae mair within.

244

9

She's rowd him in a cake o lead,
Bade him lie still and sleep;
She's thrown him in Our Lady's draw-well,
Was fifty fathom deep.

10

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
And a' the bairns came hame,
When every lady gat hame her son,
The Lady Maisry gat nane.

11

She's taen her mantle her about,
Her coffer by the hand,
And she's gane out to seek her son,
And wanderd oer the land.

12

She's doen her to the Jew's castell,
Where a' were fast asleep:
‘Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh,
I pray you to me speak.’

13

She's doen her to the Jew's garden,
Thought he had been gathering fruit:
‘Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh,
I pray you to me speak.’

14

She neard Our Lady's deep draw-well,
Was fifty fathom deep:
‘Whareer ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh,
I pray you to me speak.’

15

‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,
Prepare my winding sheet,
And at the back o merry Lincoln
The morn I will you meet.’

16

Now Lady Maisry is gane hame,
Made him a winding sheet,
And at the back o merry Lincoln
The dead corpse did her meet.

17

And a' the bells o merry Lincoln
Without men's hands were rung,
And a' the books o merry Lincoln
Were read without man's tongue,
And neer was such a burial
Sin Adam's days begun.

The Jew's Daughter

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—B

[_]

Percy's Reliques, I, 32, 1765; from a manuscript copy sent from Scotland.

1

The rain rins doun through Mirry-land toune,
Sae dois it doune the Pa;
Sae dois the lads of Mirry-land toune,
Whan they play at the ba.

2

Than out and cam the Jewis dochter,
Said, Will ye cum in and dine?
‘I winnae cum in, I cannae cum in,
Without my play-feres nine.’

3

Scho powd an apple reid and white,
To intice the yong thing in:
Scho powd an apple white and reid,
And that the sweit bairne did win.

4

And scho has taine out a little pen-knife,
And low down by her gair;
Scho has twin'd the yong thing and his life,
A word he nevir spak mair.

5

And out and cam the thick, thick bluid,
And out and cam the thin,
And out and cam the bonny herts bluid;
Thair was nae life left in.

6

Scho laid him on a dressing-borde,
And drest him like a swine,
And laughing said, Gae nou and pley
With your sweit play-feres nine.

7

Scho rowd him in a cake of lead,
Bade him lie stil and sleip;
Scho cast him in a deip draw-well,
Was fifty fadom deip.

8

Whan bells wer rung, and mass was sung,
And every lady went hame,
Than ilka lady had her yong sonne,
Bot Lady Helen had nane.

9

Scho rowd hir mantil hir about,
And sair, sair gan she weip,
And she ran into the Jewis castel,
Whan they wer all asleip.

10

‘My bonny Sir Hew, my pretty Sir Hew,
I pray thee to me speik:’
‘O lady, rinn to the deip draw-well,
Gin ye your sonne wad seik.’

245

11

Lady Helen ran to the deip draw-well,
And knelt upon her kne:
‘My bonny Sir Hew, an ye be here,
I pray thee speik to me.’

12

‘The lead is wondrous heavy, mither,
The well is wondrous deip;
A keen pen-knife sticks in my hert,
A word I dounae speik.

13

‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither deir,
Fetch me my windling sheet,
And at the back o Mirry-land toun,
It's thair we twa sall meet.’

The Jewis Daughter

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—C

[_]

Percy papers; communicated to Percy by Paton, in 1768 or 69, and derived from a friend of Paton's.

1

Four and twenty bonny boys
War playing at the ba;
Then up and started sweet Sir Hew,
The flower amang them a'.

2

He hit the ba a kick wi's fit,
And kept it wi his knee,
That up into the Jew's window
He gart the bonny ba flee.

3

‘Cast doun the ba to me, fair maid,
Cast doun the ba to me;’
‘O neer a bit o the ba ye get
Till ye cum up to me.

4

‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew,
Cum up and get the ba;’
‘I canna cum, I darna cum,
Without my play-feres twa.’

5

‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew,
Cum up and play wi me;’
‘I canna cum, I darna cum,
Without my play-feres three.’

6

She's gane into the Jew's garden,
Where the grass grew lang and green;
She powd an apple red and white,
To wyle the young thing in.

7

She wyl'd him into ae chamber,
She wyl'd him into twa,
She wyl'd him to her ain chamber,
The fairest o them a'.

8

She laid him on a dressing-board,
Where she did sometimes dine;
She put a penknife in his heart,
And dressed him like a swine.

9

Then out and cam the thick, thick blude,
Then out and cam the thin;
Then out and cam the bonny heart's blude,
Where a' the life lay in.

10

She rowd him in a cake of lead,
Bad him lie still and sleep;
She cast him in the Jew's draw-well,
Was fifty fadom deep.

11

She's tane her mantle about her head,
Her pike-staff in her hand,
And prayed Heaven to be her guide
Unto some uncouth land.

12

His mither she cam to the Jew's castle,
And there ran thryse about:
‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,
I pray ye to me speak.’

13

She cam into the Jew's garden,
And there ran thryse about:
‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,
I pray ye to me speak.’

14

She cam unto the Jew's draw-well,
And there ran thryse about:
‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,
I pray ye to me speak.’

15

‘How can I speak, how dare I speak,
How can I speak to thee?
The Jew's penknife sticks in my heart,
I canna speak to thee.

16

‘Gang hame, gang hame, O mither dear,
And shape my winding sheet,
And at the birks of Mirryland town
There you and I shall meet.’

17

Whan bells war rung, and mass was sung,
And a' men bound for bed,
Every mither had her son,
But sweet Sir Hew was dead.

246

Sir Hugh

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—D

[_]

Herd's MS., I, 213; stanzas 7-10, II, 219.

1

A' the boys of merry Linkim
War playing at the ba,
An up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh,
The flower amang them a'.

2

He keppit the ba than wi his foot,
And catchd it wi his knee,
And even in at the Jew's window
He gart the bonny ba flee.

3

‘Cast out the ba to me, fair maid,
Cast out the ba to me!’
‘Ah never a bit of it,’ she says,
‘Till ye come up to me.

4

‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,
Come up and get the ba'!’
‘I winna come up, I mayna come [up],
Without my bonny boys a'.’

5

‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,
Come up and speak to me!’
‘I mayna come up, I winna come up,
Without my bonny boys three.’

6

She's taen her to the Jew's garden,
Where the grass grew lang and green,
She's pu'd an apple reid and white,
To wyle the bonny boy in.

7

She's wyl'd him in thro ae chamber,
She's wyl'd him in thro twa,
She's wyl'd him till her ain chamber,
The flower out owr them a'.

8

She's laid him on a dressin-board,
Whare she did often dine;
She stack a penknife to his heart,
And dressd him like a swine.

9

She rowd him in a cake of lead,
Bade him lie still and sleep;
She threw him i the Jew's draw-well,
'Twas fifty fathom deep.

10

Whan bells was rung, and mass was sung,
An a' man bound to bed,
Every lady got hame her son,
But sweet Sir Hugh was dead.

Sir Hugh, or, The Jew's Daughter

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—E

[_]

Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 51, as taken down from the recitation of a lady.

1

Yesterday was brave Hallowday,
And, above all days of the year,
The schoolboys all got leave to play,
And little Sir Hugh was there.

2

He kicked the ball with his foot,
And kepped it with his knee,
And even in at the Jew's window
He gart the bonnie ba flee.

3

Out then came the Jew's daughter:
‘Will ye come in and dine?’
‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,
Till I get that ball of mine.

4

‘Throw down that ball to me, maiden,
Throw down the ball to me!’
‘I winna throw down your ball, Sir Hugh,
Till ye come up to me.’

5

She pu'd the apple frae the tree,
It was baith red and green;
She gave it unto little Sir Hugh,
With that his heart did win.

6

She wiled him into ae chamber,
She wiled him into twa,
She wiled him into the third chamber,
And that was warst o't a'.

7

She took out a little penknife,
Hung low down by her spare,
She twined this young thing o his life,
And a word he neer spak mair.

8

And first came out the thick, thick blood,
And syne came out the thin,
And syne came out the bonnie heart's blood,
There was nae mair within.

9

She laid him on a dressing-table,
She dressd him like a swine;
Says, Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh,
Wi yere apples red and green!

247

10

She put him in a case of lead,
Says, Lie ye there and sleep!
She threw him into the deep draw-well,
Was fifty fathom deep.

11

A schoolboy walking in the garden
Did grievously hear him moan;
He ran away to the deep draw-well,
And fell down on his knee.

12

Says, Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh,
I pray you speak to me!
If you speak to any body in this world,
I pray you speak to me.

13

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
And every body went hame,
Then every lady had her son,
But Lady Helen had nane.

14

She rolled her mantle her about,
And sore, sore did she weep;
She ran away to the Jew's castle,
When all were fast asleep.

15

She cries, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,
I pray you speak to me!
If you speak to any body in this world,
I pray you speak to me.

16

‘Lady Helen, if ye want your son,
I'll tell ye where to seek;
Lady Helen, if ye want your son,
He's in the well sae deep.’

17

She ran away to the deep draw-well,
And she fell down on her knee,
Saying, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,
I pray ye speak to me!
If ye speak to any body in the world,
I pray ye speak to me.

18

‘Oh the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother,
The well it is wondrous deep;
The little penknife sticks in my throat,
And I downa to ye speak.

19

‘But lift me out o this deep draw-well,
And bury me in yon churchyard;
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

20

‘Put a Bible at my head,’ he says,
‘And a Testament at my feet,
And pen and ink at every side,
And I'll lie still and sleep.

21

‘And go to the back of Maitland town,
Bring me my winding sheet;
For it's at the back of Maitland town
That you and I shall meet.’

22

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,
The broom that makes full sore,
A woman's mercy is very little,
But a man's mercy is more.

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—F

[_]

Hume's Sir Hugh of Lincoln, p. 35, obtained from recitation in Ireland.

1

'Twas on a summer's morning
Some scholars were playing at ball,
When out came the Jew's daughter
And leand her back against the wall.

2

She said unto the fairest boy,
Come here to me, Sir Hugh;
‘No! I will not,’ said he,
‘Without my playfellows too.’

3

She took an apple out of her pocket,
And trundled it along the plain,
And who was readiest to lift it
Was little Sir Hugh again.

4

She took him by the milk-white han,
An led him through many a hall,
Until they came to one stone chamber,
Where no man might hear his call.

5

She set him in a goolden chair,
And jaggd him with a pin,
And called for a goolden cup
To houl his heart's blood in.

6

She tuk him by the yellow hair,
An also by the feet,
An she threw him in the deep draw-well;
It was fifty fadom deep.

248

7

Day bein over, the night came on,
And the scholars all went home;
Then every mother had her son,
But little Sir Hugh's had none.

8

She put her mantle about her head,
Tuk a little rod in her han,
An she says, Sir Hugh, if I fin you here,
I will bate you for stayin so long.

9

First she went to the Jew's door,
But they were fast asleep;
An then she went to the deep draw-well,
That was fifty fadom deep.

10

She says, Sir Hugh, if you be here,
As I suppose you be,
If ever the dead or quick arose,
Arise and spake to me.

11

‘Yes, mother dear, I am here,
I know I have staid very long;
But a little penknife was stuck in my heart,
Till the stream ran down full strong.

12

‘And mother dear, when you go home,
Tell my playfellows all
That I lost my life by leaving them,
When playing that game of ball.

13

‘And ere another day is gone,
My winding-sheet prepare,
And bury me in the green churchyard,
Where the flowers are bloomin fair.

14

‘Lay my Bible at my head,
My Testament at my feet;
The earth and worms shall be my bed,
Till Christ and I shall meet.’

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—G

[_]

a. Written down by Mrs Dulany, January 14, 1885, from the recitation of her mother, Mrs Nourse, aged above ninety, as learned when a child, in Philadelphia. b. From the same source, furnished several years earlier by Miss Perine, of Baltimore.

1

It rains, it rains in old Scotland,
And down the rain does fa,
And all the boys in our town
Are out a playing at ba.

2

‘You toss your balls too high, my boys,
You toss your balls too low;
You'll toss them into the Jew's garden,
Wherein you darst not go.’

3

Then out came one of the Jew's daughters,
All dressed in red and green:
‘Come in, come in, my pretty little boy,
And get your ball again.’

4

‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,
Without my playmates all,
And without the will of my mother dear,
Which would cause my heart's blood to fall.’

5

She shewed him an apple as green as grass,
She shewed him a gay gold ring,
She shewed him a cherry as red as blood,
Which enticed the little boy in.

6

She took him by the lily-white hand,
And led him into the hall,
And laid him on a dresser-board,
And that was the worst of all.

7

She laid the Bible at his head,
The Prayer-Book at his feet,
And with a penknife small
She stuck him like a sheep.

8

Six pretty maids took him by the head,
And six took him by the feet,
And threw him into a deep draw-well,
That was eighteen fathoms deep.

[OMITTED]

9

‘The lead is wondrous heavy, mother,
The well is wondrous deep,
A keen pen-knife sticks in my heart,
And nae word more can I speak.’

249

The Jew's Daughter

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—H

[_]

Communicated by Miss Perine, of Baltimore, Maryland, as sung by her mother about 1825.

1

It rains, it rains in fair Scotland,
It rains both great and small
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

2

He tossed the ball so high, so low,
He tossed the ball so low,
He tossed it over the Jew's garden-wall,
Where no one dared to go.

3

Out came one of the Jew's daughters,
All dressed in apple-green;
Said she, My dear little boy, come in,
And pick up your ball again.

4

‘I dare not come, I will not come,
I dare not come at all;
For if I should, I know you would
Cause my blood to fall.’

5

She took him by the lily-white hand,
And led him thro the kitchen;
And there he saw his own dear maid
A roasting of a chicken.

6

She put him in a little chair,
And pinned him with a pin,
And then she called for a wash-basin,
To spill his life blood in.

7

‘O put the Bible at my head,
And the Testament at my feet,
And when my mother calls for me,
You may tell her I'm gone to sleep.’

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—I

[_]

Sir E. Brydges, Restituta, I, 381, “obtained some years since” (1814) from the recitation of an aged lady.

1

It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,
It rains both great and small,
And all the children in merry Scotland
Are playing at the ball.

2

They toss the ball so high, so high,
They toss the ball so low,
They toss the ball in the Jew's garden,
Where the Jews are sitting a row.

3

Then up came one of the Jew's daughters,
Cloathed all in green:
‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty Sir Hugh,
And fetch thy ball again.’

4

‘I durst not come, I durst not go,
Without my play-fellowes all;
For if my mother should chance to know,
She'd cause my blood to fall.’

[OMITTED]

5

She laid him upon the dresser-board,
And stuck him like a sheep;
She laid the Bible at his head,
The Testament at his feet,
The Catechise-Book in his own heart's blood,
With a penknife stuck so deep.

[OMITTED]

Sir Hugh

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—J

[_]

a. Notes and Queries, First Series, XII, 496, B. H. C., from the manuscript of an old lacemaker in Northamptonshire. b. N. and Q., First Series, VIII, 614, B. H. C., from memory, stanzas 1-6.

1

It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,
Both little, great and small,
And all the schoolfellows in merry Scotland
Must needs go play at ball.

2

They tossd the ball so high, so high,
With that it came down so low;
They tossd it over the old Jew's gates,
And broke the old Jew's window.

3

The old Jew's daughter she came out,
Was clothed all in green:
‘Come hither, come hither, you young Sir Hugh,
And fetch your ball again.’

250

4

‘I dare not come, nor I will not come,
Without my schoolfellows come all;
For I shall be beaten when I go home
For losing of my ball.’

5

She 'ticed him with an apple so red,
And likewise with a fig;
She threw him over the dresser-board,
And sticked him like a pig.

6

The first came out the thickest of blood,
The second came out so thin,
The third came out the child's heart-blood,
Where all his life lay in.

7

‘O spare my life! O spare my life!
O spare my life!’ said he;
‘If ever I live to be a young man,
I'll do as good chare for thee.’

8

‘I'll do as good chare for thy true love
As ever I did for the king;
I will scour a basin as bright as silver
To let your heart-blood run in.’

9

When eleven o'clock was past and gone,
And all the school-fellows came home,
Every mother had her own child
But young Sir Hugh's mother had none.

10

She went up Lincoln and down Lincoln,
And all about Lincoln street,
With her small wand in her right hand,
Thinking of her child to meet.

11

She went till she came to the old Jew's gate,
She knocked with the ring;
Who should be so ready as the old Jew herself
To rise and let her in!

12

‘What news, fair maid? what news, fair maid?
What news have you brought to me?
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

13

‘Have you seen any of my child today,
Or any of the rest of my kin?’
‘No, I've seen none of your child today,
Nor none of the rest of your kin.’

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—K

[_]

Notes and Queries, First Series, IX, 320; taken down by S. P. Q. from the recitation of a nurse-maid in Shropshire about 1810. Salopian Shreds and Patches, July 21, 1875, in Miss Burne's Shropshire Folk-Lore, p. 539.

1

It hails, it rains, in Merry-Cock land,
It hails, it rains, both great and small,
And all the little children in Merry-Cock land
They have need to play at ball.

2

They tossd the ball so high,
They tossd the ball so low,
mongst all the Jews' cattle,
And amongst the Jews below.

3

Out came one of the Jew's daughters,
Dressed all in green:
‘Come, my sweet Saluter,
And fetch the ball again.’

4

‘I durst not come, I must not come,
Unless all my little playfellows come along;
For if my mother sees me at the gate,
She'll cause my blood to fall.

5

‘She showd me an apple as green as grass,
She showd me a gay gold ring;
She showd me a cherry as red as blood,
And so she entic'd me in.

6

‘She took me in the parlor,
She took me in the kitchen,
And there I saw my own dear nurse,
A picking of a chicken.

7

‘She laid me down to sleep,
With a Bible at my head and a Testament at my feet;
And if my playfellows come to quere for me,
Tell them I am asleep.’

251

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—L

[_]

a. Communicated in a letter from the Rev. E. Venables, Precentor of Lincoln, as sung to him by a nurse-maid nearly sixty years ago, January 24, 1885. A Buckinghamshire version. b. A Walk through Lincoln Minster, by the Rev. E. Venables, p. 41, 1884.

1

It rains, it hails in merry Lincoln,
It rains both great and small,
And all the boys and girls today
Do play at pat the ball.

2

They patted the ball so high, so high,
They patted the ball so low,
They patted it into the Jew's garden,
Where all the Jews do go.

3

Then out it spake the Jew's daughter,
As she leant over the wall;
‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty playfellow,
And I'll give you your ball.’

4

She tempted him [in] with apple so red,
But that wouldnt tempt him in;
She tempted him in with sugar so sweet,
And so she got him in.

5

Then she put forth her lilly-white hand,
And led him through the hall:
‘This way, this way, my pretty play-fellow,
And you shall have your ball.’

6

She led him on through one chamber,
And so she did through nine,
Until she came to her own chamber,
Where she was wont to dine,
And she laid him on a dressing-board,
And sticket him like a swine.

7

Then out it came the thick, thick blood,
And out it came the thin,
And out it came the bonnie heart's blood,
There was no more within.

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—M

[_]

F. H. Groome, In Gipsy Tents, 1880, p. 145: “first heard at Shepherd's Bush, in 1872, from little Amy North.”

1

Down in merry, merry Scotland
It rained both hard and small;
Two little boys went out one day,
All for to play with a ball.

2

They tossed it up so very, very high,
They tossed it down so low;
They tossed it into the Jew's garden,
Where the flowers all do blow.

3

Out came one of the Jew's daughters,
Dressëd in green all:
‘If you come here, my fair pretty lad,
You shall have your ball.’

4

She showed him an apple as green as grass;
The next thing was a fig;
The next thing a cherry as red as blood,
And that would 'tice him in.

5

She set him on a golden chair,
And gave him sugar sweet;
Laid him on some golden chest of drawers,
Stabbed him like a sheep.

6

‘Seven foot Bible
At my head and my feet;
If my mother pass by me,
Pray tell her I'm asleep.’

Little Harry Hughes and the Duke's Daughter

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—N

[_]

Newell's Games and Songs of American Children, p. 75, as sung by a little girl in New York: derived, through her mother, from a grandmother born in Ireland.

1

It was on a May, on a midsummer's day,
When it rained, it did rain small;
And little Harry Hughes and his playfellows all
Went out to play the ball.

2

He knocked it up, and he knocked it down,
He knocked it oer and oer;
The very first kick little Harry gave the ball,
He broke the duke's windows all.

3

She came down, the youngest duke's daughter,
She was dressed in green:
‘Come back, come back, my pretty little boy,
And play the ball again.’

252

4

‘I wont come back, and I daren't come back,
Without my playfellows all;
And if my mother she should come in,
She'd make it the bloody ball.’

5

She took an apple out of her pocket,
And rolled it along the plain;
Little Harry Hughes picked up the apple,
And sorely rued the day.

6

She takes him by the lily-white hand,
And leads him from hall to hall,
Until she came to a little dark room,
That no one could hear him call.

7

She sat herself on a golden chair,
Him on another close by,
And there's where she pulled out her little penknife,
That was both sharp and fine.

8

Little Harry Hughes had to pray for his soul,
For his days were at an end;
She stuck her penknife in little Harry's heart,
And first the blood came very thick, and then came very thin.

9

She rolled him in a quire of tin,
That was in so many a fold;
She rolled him from that to a little draw-well,
That was fifty fathoms deep.

10

‘Lie there, lie there, little Harry,’ she cried,
‘And God forbid you to swim,
If you be a disgrace to me,
Or to any of my friends.’

11

The day passed by, and the night came on,
And every scholar was home,
And every mother had her own child,
But poor Harry's mother had none.

12

She walked up and down the street,
With a little sally rod in her hand,
And God directed her to the little draw-well,
That was fifty fathoms deep.

13

‘If you be there, little Harry,’ she said,
‘And God forbid you to be,
Speak one word to your own dear mother,
That is looking all over for thee.’

14

‘This I am, dear mother,’ he cried,
‘And lying in great pain,
With a little penknife lying close to my heart,
And the duke's daughter she has me slain.

15

‘Give my blessing to my schoolfellows all,
And tell them to be at the church,
And make my grave both large and deep,
And my coffin of hazel and green birch.

16

‘Put my Bible at my head,
My busker (?) at my feet,
My little prayer-book at my right side,
And sound will be my sleep.’

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—O

[_]

G. A. Sala, Illustrated London News, October 21, 1882, LXXXI, 415, repeated in Living London, 1883, p. 465: heard from a nurse in childhood.

1

It rains, it rains, in merry Scotland,
It rains both great and small,
And all the children in merry Scotland
Must needs play at ball.

2

They toss the ball so high,
And they toss the ball so low;
They toss it into the Jew's garden,
Where the Jews sate all of a row.

3

[OMITTED]
A-dressëd all in green:
‘Come in, come in, my pretty lad,
And you shall have your ball again.’

4

‘They set me in a chair of state,
And gave me sugar sweet;
They laid me on a dresser-board,
And stuck me like a sheep.

5

‘Oh lay a Bible at my head,
And a Prayer-Book at my feet!
In the well that they did throw me in,
Full five-and-fifty feet deep.’

253

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—P

[_]

Halliwell, Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of Lincoln, p. 37, Halliwell's Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales, p. 192, ed. 1849: communicated by Miss Agnes Strickland, from oral tradition at Godalming, Surrey.

1

He tossed the ball so high, so high,
He tossed the ball so low,
He tossed the ball in the Jew's garden,
And the Jews were all below.

2

Oh then out came the Jew's daughter,
She was dressed all in green:
‘Come hither, come hither, my sweet pretty fellow,
And fetch your ball again.’

The Jew's Daughter

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—Q

[_]

Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 54, as sung by Widow Michael, an old woman in Barhead.

1

A' the bairns o Lincolnshire
Were learning at the school,
And every Saturday at een
They learnt their lessons weel.

2

The Jew's dochter sat in her bower-door,
Sewing at her seam;
She spied a' the bonnie bairns,
As they cam out and hame.

Sir Hew, or, The Jew's Daughter

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—R

[_]

Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xvii, VII.

It was in the middle o the midsimmer tyme,
When the scule weans playd at the ba, ba,
Out and cam the Jew's tochter,
And on little Sir Hew did ca, ca,
And on little Sir Hew did ca.

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—S

[_]

Written down April, 1891, by Mrs W. H. Gill, of Sidcup, Kent, as recited to her in childhood by a maidservant in London.

1

It rained so high, it rained so low,
[OMITTED]
In the Jew's garden all below.

2

Out came a Jew,
All clothëd in green,
Saying, Come hither, come hither, my sweet little boy,
And fetch your ball again.

3

‘I won't come hither, I shan't come hither,
Without my school-fellows all;
My mother would beat me, my father would kill me,
And cause my blood to pour.

4

‘He showed me an apple as green as grass,
He showed me a gay gold ring,
He showed me a cherry as red as blood,
And that enticed me in.

5

‘He enticed me into the parlour,
He enticed me into the kitchen,
And there I saw my own dear sister,
A picking of a chicken.

6

‘He set me in a golden chair
And gave me sugar sweet;
He laid me on a dresser-board,
And stabbed me like a sheep.

7

‘With a Bible at my head,
A Testament at my feet,
A prayer-book at the side of me,
And a penknife in so deep.

8

‘If my mother should enquire for me,
Tell her I'm asleep;
Tell her I'm at heaven's gate,
Where her and I shall meet.’

Little Sir William

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—T

[_]

Miss M. H. Mason's Nursery Rhymes and Country Songs, p. 46.

1

Easter Day was a holiday,
Of all days in the year,
And all the little schoolfellows went out to play,
Bat Sir William was not there.

2

Mamma went to the Jew's wife's house,
And knockëd at the ring,
Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there,
Oh, let your mother in!

3

The Jew's wife opened the door and said,
He is not here to-day;
He is with the little schoolfellows out on the green,
Playing some pretty play.

4

Mamma went to the Boyne water,
That is so wide and deep,
Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there,
Oh, pity your mother's weep!

5

‘How can I pity your weep, mother,
And I so long in pain?
For the little penknife sticks close in my heart,
And the Jew's wife has me slain.

6

‘Go home, go home, my mother dear,
And prepare my winding sheet,
For tomorrow morning before eight o'clock
You with my body shall meet.

7

‘And lay my Prayer-Book at my head,
And my grammar at my feet,
That all the little schoolfellows as they pass by
May read them for my sake.’

The Jew's Daughter

SIR HUGH, OR, THE JEW'S DAUGHTER—U

[_]

Notes and Queries, Eighth Series, II, 43, July, 1842. communicated by Mr C. W. Penny, as repeated to his brother, the vicar of Stixwould, Lincolnshire, by one of the oldest women in the parish. “A song sung by his nurse to a Lincolnshire gentleman, now over sixty years of age.”

1

You toss your ball so high,
You toss your ball so low,
You toss your ball into the Jew's garden,
Where the pretty flowers grow.

2

Out came one of the Jew's daughters,
Dressed all in green:
‘Come hither, pretty little dear,
And fetch your ball again.’

3

She showed him a rosy-cheeked apple,
She showed him a gay gold ring,
She showed him a cherry as red as blood,
And that enticed him in.

4

She set him in a golden chair,
She gave him kisses sweet,
She threw him down a darksome well,
More than fifty feet deep.