Chapter IV: Robin Hood the Myth (2)

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 twelve monthes,' sayde Robin,
'Thou shalt dwell with me;
I shall thee techë, proude sherif,
An outlawe for to be.'

200.
'Or I be here another nyght,' sayde the sherif,
'Robyn, nowe pray I thee,
Smyte of min hede rather to-morrowe,
And I forgyve it thee.

201.
'Lat me go,' than sayde the sherif,
'For sayntë charitë,
And I woll be the bestë frende
That ever yet had ye.'

202.
'Thou shalt swere me an othe,' sayde Robyn,
'On my bright bronde;
Shalt thou never awayte me scathe
By water ne by lande.

203.
'And if thou fynde any of my men,
By nyght or by day,
Upon thyn othë thou shalt swere
To helpe them that thou may.'

204.
Now hath the sherif sworne his othe,
And home he began to gone;
He was as full of grenë-wode
As ever was hepe of stone.

[Annotations:
145.2: 'shete,' shoot.
145.3: 'fet,' fetched.
148.1: 'wight,' strong, active.
148.4: 'wonynge wane': both words mean dwelling or habitation.
153.4: To give him his full reward.
154.2: 'leutye,' loyalty.
155.4: 'foriete,' forgotten.
160.4: 'go' = walk.
161.3: 'lyveray,' purveyance.
168.2: 'Two mylë way' = the time it takes to go two miles.
See _Early English Lyrics_, cxxvi. 55, and note.
168.4: 'mountnaunce,' duration.
172.2: 'nowmbles,' entrails: cf. 32.4.
175.3: 'Pecis,' cups; 'masars,' bowls.
177.2: Cf. _Child Waters_, 2.2 (First Series, p. 37).
183.2: See 177.2 and note.
183.3: 'shryef' may be a misprint, but 'shreeve' is another
spelling of 'sheriff.'
185.4: 'bydene,' together.
186.1: 'tyndes' = tynes, forks of the antlers.
186.4: 'slo,' slay.
194.3: 'toke,' gave.
198.2: 'ankir,' anchorite, hermit.
200.1: 'Or,' ere.
202.3: 'awayte me scathe,' lie in wait to do me harm.
204.4: _i.e._ as ever a hip (berry of the wild rose) is of its
stone.]

THE FOURTH FYTTE (205-280)

+Argument.+--Robin Hood will not dine until he has 'his pay,' and he therefore sends Little John with Much and Scarlok to wait for an 'unketh gest.' They capture a monk of St. Mary Abbey, and Robin Hood makes him disgorge eight hundred pounds. The monk, we are told, was on his way to London to take proceedings against the knight.

In due course the knight, who was left at the end of the second fytte at the wrestling-match, arrives to pay his debt to Robin Hood; who, however, refuses to receive it, saying that Our Lady had discharged the loan already.

The admirable, naïvely-told episode of Our Lady's method of repaying money lent on her security, is not without parallels, some of which Child points out (III. 53-4).

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.
'Have no doute, maister,' sayde Litell Johnn;
'Yet is nat the sonne at rest;
For I dare say, and savely swere.
The knight is true and truste.'

208.
'Take thy bowe in thy hande,' sayde Robyn,
'Late Much wende with thee,
And so shal Wyllyam Scarlok,
And no man abyde with me.

209.
'And walke up under the Sayles,
And to Watlynge-strete,
And wayte after some unketh gest;
Up chaunce ye may them mete.

210.
'Whether he be messengere,
Or a man that myrthës can,
Of my good he shall have 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 up to the Sayles,
These yemen all thre;
They loked est, they loked west,
They myght no man se.

213.
But as they 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 have brought our pay.

215.
'Make glad chere,' sayd Lytell Johan,
'And frese your bowes of ewe,
And loke your hertes be seker and sad,
Your strynges trusty and trewe.

216.
'The monke hath two and fifty men,
And seven somers full stronge;
There rydeth no bysshop in this londe
So ryally, I understond.

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 closëd 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 evyll thryfte on thy hede,' sayd Lytell Johan,
'Ryght under thy hattë's 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 never good.'

222.
'Thou lyest,' than sayd Lytell Johan,
'And that shall rewë thee;
He is a yeman of the forest,
To dyne he hath bodë thee.'

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 curteyse,
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 us knowe.'
Seven score of wyght yemen,
Came pryckynge on a rowe.

230.
And everych 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 served 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?' said Robyn:
'Syr, the hye selerer.'

234.
'Ye be the more welcome,' sayd Robyn,
'So ever mote I the!
Fyll of the best wyne,' sayd Robyn,
'This monke shall drynke to me.

235.
'But I have grete mervayle,' sayd Robyn,
'Of all this longë day;
I drede Our Lady be wroth with me,
She sent me not my pay.'

236.
'Have no doute, mayster,' sayd Lytell Johan,
'Ye have no nede, I saye;
This monke hath brought it, 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 grene-wode tree.

238.
'And yf thou hast that sylver ibrought,
I pray thee let me se;
And I shall helpë thee eftsones,
Yf thou have nede to me.'

239.
The monke swore a full grete othe,
With a sory chere,
'Of the borowehode thou spekest to me,
Herde I never 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 servaunt,
And servest her every day.

242.
'And thou art made her messengere,
My money for to pay;
Therefore 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 thee.

245.
'And yf I fyndë more,' sayd Robyn,
'I-wys thou shalte it forgone;
For of thy spendynge-sylver, 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 thee?--
Our Lady is the trewest woman
That ever yet founde I me.

250.
'By dere worthy God,' sayd Robyn,
'To seche all Englond thorowe,
Yet founde I never 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 have nede to Robyn Hode,
A frende she shall hym fynde.

252.
'And yf she nedeth ony more sylver,
Come thou agayne to me,
And, by this token she hath me sent,
She shall have such thre.'

253.
The monke was goynge to London ward,
There to hold grete mote,
The knyght that rode so hye on hors,
To brynge hym under fote.

254.
'Whether be ye away?' sayd Robyn.
'Syr, to maners in this londe,
To reken with our reves,
That have 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 olde maner,' sayd Robyn,
'To leve but lytell behynde.'

258.
The monke toke the hors with spore,
No lenger wolde he abyde:
'Askë to drynke,' 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 have 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 every 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 grene-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 savë, 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 nede dryveth thee to grene-wode?
I praye thee, syr knyght, tell me.

266.
'And welcome be thou, gentyll knyght,
Why hast thou be so longe?'
'For the abbot and the hye justyce
Wolde have had my londe.'

267.
'Hast thou thy londe agayne?' sayd Robyn;
'Treuth than tell thou me.'
'Ye, for God,' sayd the knyght,
'And that thanke I God and thee.

268.
'But take no grefe, that I have be so longe;
I came by a wrastelynge,
And there I holpe a pore yeman,
With wronge was put behynde.'

269.
'Nay, for God,' sayd Robyn,
'Syr knyght, that thanke I thee;
What man that helpeth a good yeman,
His frende than wyll I be.'

270.
'Have 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 hye 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,
Welcome 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,' said Robyn,
'Thou gentyll knyght so fre;
And welcome be thou, gentyll knyght,
Under my trystell-tre.

275.
'But what shall these bowës do?' sayd Robyn,
'And these arowes ifedred fre?'
'By God,' than sayd the knyght,
'A pore present to thee.'

276.
'Come now forth, Lytell Johan,
And go to my treasurë,
And brynge me there foure hondred pounde,
The monke over-tolde it me.

277.
'Have here foure hondred pounde,
Thou gentyll knyght and trewe,
And bye hors and havnes 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 have 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 heven hye,
Graunte us well to fare!

[Annotations:
208., 209.: A repetition of 17 and 18.
211.2: 'tray and tene,' grief and vexation.
213.: _i.e._ Benedictines.
214.3: 'wedde,' wager.
215.2: 'frese' occurs nowhere else, and its meaning is unknown.
215.3: 'seker and sad,' resolute and staunch.
216.2: 'somers' = sumpters, pack-horses.
218.2: 'prese,' crowd.
225.2: 'lefe,' pleased, willing.
225.4: 'Maugre,' in spite of.
227.3: 'no force,' no matter.
229.2: 'felaushyp' = our fellows.
230.2: 'raye,' striped cloth.
232.4: 'avowë,' patron.
234.2: A common form of asseveration = 'upon my life';
'the' = thrive. Cf. 243.4.
237.1: 'borowe,' security.
239.2: 'chere,' countenance.
243.4: See 234.2 and note.
244.3: 'myster,' need.
247.3: 'male,' trunk. See 134.2 and 374.1.
250.3: 'pay,' liking.
251.2: 'hende,' gracious.
253.2: 'mote,' meeting.
254.3: 'reves,' bailiffs.
256.1: 'corser,' coffer (?).
271.2: 'broke,' enjoy. Cf. 274.3 and 279.3.
273.2: 'leugh,' laughed.
275.2: 'ifedred,' feathered.]

THE FIFTH FYTTE (281-316)

+Argument.+--The story now returns to the Sheriff of Nottingham, and relates how he offered a prize for the best archer in the north. Robin Hood, hearing of this match, determines to go to it, and to test the sheriff's faith to his oath (see the Third Fytte, stt. 202-4). Robin wins the prize, and is starting home to the greenwood, when the sheriff recognises and attacks him, but is beaten off by a shower of arrows. Robin and his men retire, shooting as they go, until they come to a castle. Here dwells the knight to whom Robin had lent the money--'Sir Richard at the Lee.' He takes in Robin and his men, and defies the sheriff; Robin, he says, shall spend forty days with him.

This fytte is no doubt based on some single lost ballad of a shooting-match at which Robin was victorious, and at which the Sheriff of Nottingham attempted in vain to arrest him. But the compiler of the _Gest_ has carefully linked it to the preceding fyttes by such references as Robin's determination to try the sheriff's faith (st. 287), which is made clear in stt. 296-8; and the identification of the knight whose castle protects Robin and his men with the knight to whom the money had been lent (stt. 310-312).

THE FIFTH FYTTE

281.
Now hath the knyght his leve i-take,
And wente hym on his way;
Robyn Hode and his mery men
Dwelled styll full many a day.

282.
Lyth and listen, gentil men,
And herken what I shall say,
How the proud sheryfe of Notyngham
Dyde crye a full fayre play;

283.
That all the best archers of the north
Sholde come upon a day,
And he that shoteth allther best
The game shall bere away.

284.
He that shoteth allther best,
Furthest fayre and lowe,
At a payre of fynly buttes,
Under the grene wode shawe,

285.
A ryght good arowe he shall have,
The shaft of sylver whyte,
The hede and 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 shryvës fayth,
Trewe and yf he be.'

288.
Whan they had theyr bowes i-bent,
Theyr takles fedred fre,
Seven score of wyght yonge men
Stode by Robyn's 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 hevede,
And standë with good bowës bent,
That I be not desceyved.'

291.
The fourth outlawe his bowe gan bende,
And that was Robyn Hode,
And that behelde the proud sheryfe,
All by the but as he stode.

292.
Thryës Robyn shot about,
And alway he slist the wand,
And so dyde good Gylberte
With 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,
Evermore was the best,
For soth, Robyn Hode.

295.
Hym was delyvred 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 evyl 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 thee in grenë-wode,
Under my trystell-tre,
Thou sholdest leve 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 might them dryve,
And the proud sheryfës men,
They fled away full blyve.

301.
Robyn sawe the busshement to-broke,
In grene wode he wolde have 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 ever thou lovedst me,
And for that ylkë lordës love
That dyed upon a tre,

304.
'And for the medes of my servyce,
That I have servëd thee,
Lete never the proudë sheryf
Alyve now fyndë me.

305.
'But take out thy brownë swerde,
And smyte all of my hede,
And gyve 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 him 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 grene-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 thee of thy comfort,
And of thy curteysye,
And of thy gretë kyndënesse,
Under the grene-wode tre.

313.
'I love no man in all this worlde
So much as I do thee;
For all the proud 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 mete can they gone.

[Annotations:
282.4: 'dyde' = caused to: cf. 'do you to wit.' --Gummere.
283.3: 'allther best,' best of all: cp. 9.4.
284.3: 'fynly,' goodly.
287.3: 'wete,' know.
287.4: 'and yf' = [*]
288.2: 'fedred fre,' fully feathered.
290.2: 'hevede' = head, _i.e._ life.
292.2: 'slist,' sliced, split.
295.3: 'yeft,' gift, prize.
297.3: 'behotë,' didst promise.
298.3: 'wedde,' forfeit.
298.4: 'lewtë,' loyalty, faith.
300.4: 'blyve,' quickly.
301.1: 'busshement,' ambuscade: 'to-broke,' broken up.
304.1: 'medes,' wages.
306.4: 'on a rawe,' in a row; cf. 60.2.
315.1: 'behote,' promise; cf. 297.3.
315.3: 'wonnest,' dwellest.]

THE SIXTH FYTTE (317-353)

+Argument.+--The Sheriff of Nottingham secures the assistance of the High Sheriff, and besets the knight's castle, accusing him of harbouring the king's enemies. The knight bids him appeal to the king, saying he will 'avow' (_i.e._ make good or justify) all he has done, on the pledge of all his lands. The sheriffs raise the siege and go to London, where the king says he will be at Nottingham in two weeks and will capture both the knight and Robin Hood. The sheriff returns home to get together a band of archers to assist the king; but meanwhile Robin has escaped to the greenwood. However, the sheriff lies in wait for the knight, captures him and takes him bound to Nottingham. The knight's lady rides to Robin and begs him to save her lord; whereupon Robin and his men hasten to Nottingham, kill the sheriff, release the knight, and carry him off to the greenwood.

The latter episode--of Robin's release, at the request of his wife, of a knight taken captive by the sheriff--comes probably from a separate ballad: _Robin Hood rescuing Three Squires_ tells a similar story. This the compiler of the _Gest_ has apparently woven in with the story of the previous fyttes, though he has not done so very thoroughly (_e.g._, the inconsistency of Robin's question to the knight's wife, 'What man hath your lord i-take?' with his knowledge of the knight's defiance of the sheriff). The compiler has also neatly prepared the way for the introduction of the seventh and eighth fyttes by the knight's appeal to the king; but, having done so, he has apparently forgotten the king's undertaking to come to Nottingham, and has allowed the sheriff to anticipate that plan and capture the knight without assistance.

THE SIXTH 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 up 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 avowe that I have done,
The dedys that here be dyght,
Upon all the landës that I have,
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 thee.'

322.
The shyref thus had his answere,
Without any lesynge;
Forth 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 avowe 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,' sayde our kynge,
'Within this fourteennyght,
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 thee;
And ordeyn gode archers ynowe,
Of all the wyde contrë.'

327.
The shyref had his leve i-take,
And went hym on his way;
And Robyn Hode to grenë wode,
Upon 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,
Under the grene wode tree.

329.
Robyn Hode walked in the forest,
Under the levys grene;
The proud shyref of Notyngham
Thereof he had grete tene.

330.
The shyref there fayled of Robyn Hode,
He myght not have his pray;
Than he awayted this gentyll knyght,
Bothe by nyght and day.

331.
Ever he wayted the gentyll knyght,
Syr Richarde at the Lee,
As he went on haukynge by the ryver-syde
And lete his haukës flee.

332.
Toke he there this gentyll knight,
With men of armys stronge,
And led hym to Notynghamwarde,
Bounde bothe fote and hande.

333.
The sheref sware a full grete othe,
Bi him that dyed on rode,
He had lever 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 grene wode anone rode she.

335.
Whanne she cam in the forest,
Under the grene wode tree,
Fonde she there Robyn Hode,
And all his fayre menë.

336.
'God thee savë, gode Robyn,
And all thy company;
For Our derë Ladyes sake,
A bonë graunte thou me.

337.
'Late never my wedded lorde
Shamefully slayne be;
He is fast bowne to Notinghamwarde,
For the love of thee.'

338.
Anone than saide goode Robyn
To that lady so fre,
'What man hath your lorde ytake?'
['The proude shirife,' than sayd she.

339.
'You may them overtake, Robyn,]
For soth as I thee say;
He is nat yet thre mylës
Passed on his way.'

340.
Up 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 never in grenë wode
No lenger dwel with me.'

342.
Sone there were gode bowës bent,
Mo than seven score;
Hedge ne dyche spared they none
That was them before.

343.
'I make myn avowe to God,' sayde Robyn,
'The sherif wolde I fayne see;
And if I may him take,
I-quyt then shall he be.'

344.
And when 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 thee.

346.
'This seven yere, by dere worthy God,
Ne yede I this fast on fote;
I make myn avowe to God, thou proudë sherif,
It is not for thy gode.'

347.
Robyn bent a full goode bowe,
An arrowe he drowe at wyll;
He hit so the proudë sherife
Upon the grounde he lay full still.

348.
And or he myght up aryse,
On his fete to stonde,
He smote of the sherifs hede
With his brightë bronde.

349.
'Lye thou there, thou proudë sherife;
Evyll mote thou cheve!
There myght no man to thee truste
The whyles thou were a lyve.'

350.
His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes,
That were so sharpe and kene,
And layde on the sheryves men,
And dryved 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.
'Leve thy hors thee 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 have gete us grace
Of Edwarde, our comly kynge.'

[Annotations:
320.2: 'dyght,' concerted.
322.3: 'yede,' went.
326.3: 'ordeyn,' levy, summon.
328.: See st. 302.
329.4: 'tene,' anger. 'Thereof' means 'of Robin's escape.'
333.3: 'lever,' rather.
334.1: 'harde,' = heard.
336.4: 'bone,' boon.
338.4, 339.1: supplied from later versions.
340.2: 'wode,' mad.
346.2: 'this' = thus.
348.1: 'And or' = ere.
349.2: 'cheve,' gain, win.
350.4: 'bydene,' one after another.
351.3: 'toke,' gave.]

THE SEVENTH FYTTE (354-417)

+Argument.+--The king, coming with a great array to Nottingham to take Robin Hood and the knight, and finding nothing but a great scarcity of deer, is wondrous wroth, and promises the knight's lands to any one who will bring him his head. For half a year the king has no news of Robin; at length, at the suggestion of a forester, he disguises himself as an abbot and five of his men as monks, and goes into the greenwood. He is met and stopped by Robin Hood, gives up forty pounds to him, and alleges he is a messenger from the king. Thereupon Robin entertains him and his men on the king's own deer, and the outlaws hold an archery competition, Robin smiting those that miss. At his last shot, Robin himself misses, and asks the abbot to smite him in his turn. The abbot gives him such a buffet that Robin is nearly felled; on looking more closely, he recognises the king, of whom he and his men ask pardon on their knees. The king grants it, on condition that they will enter his service. Robin agrees, but reserves the right to return to the greenwood if he mislikes the court.

This fytte is based on the story, extremely common and essentially popular, especially in England, of a meeting between a king in disguise and one of his subjects. Doubtless there was a ballad of Robin Hood and the king; but the only one we possess, _The King's Disguise and Friendship with Robin Hood_, is a late and a loose paraphrase of this fytte and the next. The commonest stories and ballads of this type in English are _The King and the Barker_ (_i.e._ Tanner), _King Edward the Fourth and the Tanner of Tamworth_, _King James and the Tinker_, and _King Henry II. and the Miller of Mansfield_. Usually the point of the story is the lack of ceremony displayed by the subject, and the royal good-humour and largesse of the king.

There is only an arbitrary division between Fyttes VII. and VIII.; and one or two other points will be discussed in introducing the next and last fytte.

THE SEVENTH 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 askëd 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 understode 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 unneth fynde one dere,
That bare ony good home.

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 have the knyghtës londes,
Syr Rycharde at the Le.

361.
'I gyve it hym with my charter,
And sele it with my honde,
To have and holde for ever 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 have 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:
Give 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 see good Robyn,
Ye must do after me.

368.
'Take fyve of the best knyghtes
That be in your lede,
And walke downe by yon abbay,
And gete you monkës wede.

369.
'And I wyll be your ledes-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 lyve yf that he be;
Or ye come to Notyngham,
With eyen ye shall hym se.'

371.
Full hastely our kynge was dyght,
were his knyghtës fyve,
Everych of them in monkës wede,
And hasted them thyder blyve.

372.
Our kynge was grete above his cole,
A brode hat on his crowne,
Ryght as he were abbot-lyke,
They rode up into the towne.

373.
Styf botës our kynge had on,
Forsoth as I you say;
He rode syngynge to grenë wode;
The covent was clothed in graye.

374.
His male-hors and his grete somers
Folowed our kynge behynde,
Tyll they came to grene wode,
A myle under 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,
Hastely in that stede,
And sayd, 'Syr abbot, by your leve,
A whyle ye must abyde.

377.
'We be yemen of this foreste,
Under the grene-wode tre;
We lyve by our kyngës dere,
Other shyft have not we.

378.
'And ye have chyrches and rentës both,
And gold full grete plentë;
Gyve us some of your spendynge,
For saynt charytë.'

379.
Than bespake our cumly kynge,
Anone than sayd he;
'I brought no more to grene-wode
But forty pounde with me.

380.
'I have layne at Notyngham,
This fourtynyght with our kynge,
And spent I have full moche good
On many a grete lordynge.

381.
'And I have but forty pounde,
No more than have I me:
But if I had an hondred pounde,
I wolde vouch it safe on thee.'

382.
Robyn toke the forty pounde,
And departed it in two partye;
Halfendell he gave his mery men,
And bad them mery to be.

383.
Full curteysly Robyn gan say;
'Syr, have this for your spendyng;
We shall mete another day';
'Gramercy,' than sayd our kynge.

384.
'But well thee greteth Edwarde our kynge,
And sent to thee his seale,
And byddeth thee com to Notyngham,
Both to mete and mele.'

385.
He toke out the brode targe,
And sone he lete hym se;
Robyn coud his courteysy,
And set hym on his kne.

386.
'I love 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 love 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 home,
And loude he gan blowe;
Seven score of wyght yonge men
Came redy on a rowe.

390.
All they kneled on theyr kne,
Full fayre before Robyn:
The kynge sayd hymselfe untyll,
And swore by Saynt Austyn,

391.
'Here is a wonder semely sight;
Me thynketh, by Goddës pyne,
His men are more at his byddynge
Then my men be at myn.'

392.
Full hastely was theyr dyner i-dyght,
And therto gan they gone;
They served our kynge with all 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 bowes were smartly bent;
Our kynge was never so sore agast,
He wende to have be shente.

397.
Two yerdes there were up set,
Thereto gan they gange;
By fyfty pase, our kynge sayd,
The merkës were to longe.

398.
On every syde a rose-garlonde,
They shot under 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 never 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 ever he cleved 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 delyver thee myn arowe,
I pray thee, syr, serve thou me.'

406.
'It falleth not for myn ordre,' sayd our kynge,
'Robyn, by thy leve,
For to smyte no good yeman,
For doute I sholde hym greve.'

407.
'Smyte on boldely,' sayd Robyn,
'I give thee largë leve':
Anone our kynge, with that worde,
He folde up his sleve,

408.
And sych a buffet he gave 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,
'Under your trystyll-tre,
Of thy goodnesse and thy grace,
For my men and me!'

413.
'Yes, for God,' sayd Robyn,
'And also God me save,
I aske mercy, my lorde the kynge,
And for my men I crave.'

414.
'Yes, for God,' than sayd our kynge,
'And therto sent I me,
With that thou leve 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 servyse for to se,
And brynge with me of my men
Seven score and thre.

417.
'But me lyke well your servyse,
I wyll come agayne full soone,
And shote at the donnë dere,
As I am wonte to done.'

[Annotations:
354.4: 'and yf' = if.
357.3: Plumpton Park is said by Camden in his Britannia to be in
Cumberland, east of Inglewood.
358.3: 'unneth,' scarcely.
364.2: 'The ball in the hood' is a very early colloquialism for
the head.
366.2: 'halke,' hiding-place.
366.4: 'welt,' disposed of.
367.1: 'fostere,' forester.
371.1: 'dyght,' dressed.
372.1: 'cote' = cowl; here, however, not the hood, but the frock
of a monk.
373.4: 'covent' = convent (as in 'Covent Garden'), company of monks.
374.1: 'male-hors,' pack-horse; 'somers,' sumpter-horses.
374.4: 'lynde,' trees.
382.3: 'Halfendell' = halfen deal (which survives in Somerset
dialect), the half portion: _deal_, as in 'a great deal' = dole,
or that which is dealt.
385.1: 'brode targe,' broad charter. Cf. a 'braid letter.'
388.4: 'dyghtande' (intended for a past participle), made ready.
389.4: 'on a row': cf. 306.4.
391.2: 'pyne,' passion.
394.3: 'ylke,' same.
395.2: 'Or' = ere.
395.4: 'lende,' dwell.
397.4: 'merkes,' distances between the 'yerdes' or rods.
398.4: _i.e._ his arrow he shall lose.
408.2: 'yede,' went.
410.2: 'Wystly,' observantly, closely.
414.2: 'sent' = assent.
414.3: 'With that,' provided that, on condition that.
417.1: 'But,' unless.
417.3: 'donne,' dun.]

THE EIGHTH FYTTE (418-456)

+Argument.+--For a jest, the king disguises himself and his men once more, this time in Lincoln green, which he purchases off Robin Hood. The whole party proceeds to Nottingham, where the appearance of so many green mantles causes a general flight of the inhabitants. The king, however, reveals himself, and after a feast, pardons the knight.

Robin dwells in the king's court for fifteen months, at the end of which time he has spent much money, and has lost all his men except Little John and Scathlock. He therefore begs the king's leave to go on a pilgrimage to a shrine of St. Mary Magdalen in Barnsdale, and the king consents, but allows him only seven nights' absence. Robin comes to the greenwood, and shoots a great hart; and on blowing his horn, seven score yeomen come and welcome him back, and he dwells two-and-twenty years in the greenwood. In the end he was betrayed by his kinswoman, the Prioress of Kirkesly Abbey, and her lover, Sir Roger of Doncaster.

It has been suggested (by Professor Brandl) that the episode of the king's disguise in green is an intentional variation of the episode in the Third Fytte, where the Sheriff of Nottingham is forced to wrap himself in a green mantle. In any case it is probable that most of this Eighth Fytte is the work of the compiler of the _Gest_; possibly even the delightful verses (stt. 445-6) in which the joy of greenwood life overcomes Robin.

One could wish the _Gest_ ended with st. 450; but it is clear that the compiler knew of a ballad which narrated the death of Robin Hood, no doubt an earlier version of the _Robin Hood's Death_ of the Percy Folio, a ballad unfortunately incomplete (see p. 140).

Every famous outlaw of English tradition visits the king's court sooner or later, and makes peace with the king; but Robin's independence was too dear to him--and to the ballad-singers whose ideal he was--to allow him to go to the king voluntarily. Therefore the king must come to Robin; and here the compiler, perhaps, saw his opportunity to introduce the king-in-disguise theme, and so evolved the two last fyttes of the _Gest_.

THE EIGHTH FYTTE

418.
'Haste thou ony grene cloth,' sayd our kynge,
'That thou wylte sell nowe to me?'
'Ye, for God,' sayd Robyn,
'Thyrty yerdes and three.'

419.
'Robyn,' sayd our kynge,
'Now pray I thee,
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 every knyght also, i-wys,
Another had full sone.

422.
When 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 thee,
Though I shote all this yere.'

427.
All the people of Notyngham
They stode and behelde;
They sawe nothynge but mantels of grene
That covered all the felde.

428.
Than every man to other gan say,
'I drede our kynge be slone;
Come Robyn Hode to the towne, i-wys
On lyve he lefte never one.'

429.
Full hastëly they began to fle,
Both yemen and knaves,
And olde wyves that myght evyll goo,
They hyppëd on theyr staves.

430.
The kynge loughe 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 Richarde at the Lee.

432.
He gave 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 twelve monethes and thre,
That he had spent an hondred pounde,
And all his mennës fe.

434.
In every place where Robyn came
Ever 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 upon 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 never in this seven nyght
No tyme to slepe ne wynke,
Nother all these seven dayes
Nother ete ne drynke.

442.
'Me longeth sore to Bernysdale,
I may not be therfro;
Barefote and wolwarde I have hyght
Thyder for to go.'

443.
'Yf it be so,' than sayd our kynge,
'It may no better be;
Seven nyght I gyve thee leve,
No lengre, to dwell fro me.'

444.
'Gramercy, lorde,' then sayd Robyn,
And set hym on his kne;
He toke his leve full courteysly,
To grene wode then went he.

445.
When he came to grene 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.
Seven 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 grene-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 love of a knyght,
Syr Roger of Donkesly,
That was her ownë speciall;
Full evyll mote they the!

453.
They toke togyder theyr counsell
Robyn Hood 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,
'Tomorow I muste to Kyrkësly,
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 have mercy on his soul,
That dyëd on the rode!
For he was a good outlawe,
And dyde pore men moch gode.

[Annotations:
421.1: 'kest of' = cast off: 'colë,' frock (cp. 372.1).
423.1: 'bente,' took.
423.2: 'in fere,' in company.
424.3: 'plucke-buffet,' the game of giving one another alternate
buffets, as described in stt. 403-9. In the _Romance of Richard
Coeur de Lion_, Richard even kills his opponent at this 'game.'
'Shote plucke-buffet' implies that the buffeting was punishment
for missing the mark at shooting.
428.2: 'slone,' slain.
429.4: 'hypped,' hopped.
433.4: 'fe,' pay.
434.2: 'layde downe,' spent, laid out.
438.4: 'sloo,' slay.
442.3: 'wolwarde,' with wool against skin, _i.e._ with a sheepskin
turned inwards: 'hyght,' promised, vowed.
446.3: 'Me lyste,' I should like.
446.4: 'donne,' dun (cf. 417.3).
448.2: 'throwe,' space of time.
448.4: See 306.4, etc.
452.3: 'speciall,' lover.
452.4: Cp. 234.2, 349.2.
453.4: 'banis,' murderers.]

ROBIN AND GANDELEYN

+The Text+ is modernised from the only known version, in Sloane MS. 2593, in the British Museum (c. 1450); the minstrel's song-book which contains the famous carols: 'I sing of a maiden,' and 'Adam lay i-bounden.' This ballad was first printed by Ritson in his _Ancient Songs_ (1790); but he misunderstood the phrase 'Robyn lyth' in the burden for the name 'Robin Lyth,' and ingeniously found a cave on Flamborough Head called Robin Lyth's Hole.

+The Story+ is similar to those told of Robin Hood and Little John; but there is no ground for identifying this Robin with Robin Hood. Wright, in printing the Sloane MS., notes that 'Gandeleyn' resembles Gamelyn, whose 'tale' belongs to the pseudo-Chaucerian literature. But we can only take this ballad to be, like so many others, an unrelated 'relique.'

ROBIN AND GANDELEYN

1.
I heard a carping of a clerk
All at yon woodës end,
Of good Robin and Gandeleyn,
Was there none other thing.

_Robin lieth in greenwood bounden._

2.
Strong thievës wern tho children none,
But bowmen good and hend;
They wenten to wood to getten them flesh
If God would it them send.

3.
All day wenten tho children two,
And flesh founden they none,
Till it were again even,
The children would gone home.

4.
Half a hundred of fat fallow deer
They comen ayon,
And all they wern fair and fat enow,
But markëd was there none.
'By dear God,' said good Robin,
'Hereof we shall have one.'

5.
Robin bent his jolly bow,
Therein he set a flo;
The fattest deer of all.
The heart he cleft a-two.

6.
He had not the deer i-flaw
Ne half out of the hide,
There came a shrewd arrow out of the west
That felled Robert's pride.

7.
Gandeleyn looked him east and west,
By every side:
'Who hath my master slain?
Who hath done this deed?
Shall I never out of greenwood go
Till I see his sidës bleed.'

8.
Gandeleyn looked him east and west,
And sought under the sun;
He saw a little boy.
They clepen Wrennok of Donne.

9.
A good bow in his hand,
A broad arrow therein,
And four and twenty good arrows
Trussèd in a thrum.
'Beware thee, ware thee, Gandeleyn,
Hereof thou shalt have some.

10.
'Beware thee, ware thee, Gandeleyn,
Hereof thou gettest plenty.'
'Ever one for another,' said Gandeleyn;
'Misaunter have they shall flee.

11.
'Whereat shall our mark be?'
Saidë Gandeleyn.
'Everich at otherës heart,'
Said Wrennok again.

12.
'Who shall give the first shot?'
Saidë Gandeleyn.
'And I shall give thee one before,'
Said Wrennok again.

13.
Wrennok shot a full good shot,
And he shot not too high;
Through the sanchothës of his breek,
It touchëd neither thigh.

14.
'Now hast thou given me one before';
All thus to Wrennok said he;
'And through the might of our Lady
A better I shall give thee.'

15.
Gandeleyn bent his good bow,
And set therein a flo;
He shot through his green kirtle,
His heart he cleft on two.

16.
'Now shalt thou never yelp, Wrennok,
At ale ne at wine,
That thou hast slaw good Robin
And his knave Gandeleyn.

17.
'Now shalt thou never yelp, Wrennok,
At wine ne at ale,
That thou hast slaw good Robin
And Gandeleyn his knave.'