Chapter II: Part 2

"And I mete hym," seid Litull Johne,
"We wille go but we too
* * * * * * * *
* * * * * * *

"Loke that ze kepe wel our tristil tre
Vnder the levys smale,
And spare non of this venyson 145
That gose in thys vale."

Forthe thei went these zemen too,
Litul Johne and Moche onfere,
And lokid on Moche emys hows
The hyeway lay fulle nere. 150

Litul John stode at a window in the mornynge,
And lokid forth at a stage;
He was war wher the munke came ridynge,
And with hym a litul page.

"Be my feith," seid Litul Johne to Moche, 155
"I can the tel tithyngus gode;
I se wher the munk comys rydyng,
I know hym be his wyde hode."

Thei went into the way these zemen bothe,
As curtes men and hende, 160
Thei spyrred tithyngus at the munke,
As thei hade bene his frende.

"Fro whens come ze," seid Litul Johne;
"Tel vs tithyngus, I yow pray,
Off a false owtlay [called Robyn Hode], 165
Was takyn zisturday.

"He robbyt me and my felowes bothe
Of xx marke in serten;
If that false owtlay be takyn,
For sothe we wolde be fayne." 170

"So did he me," seid the munke,
"Of a C pound and more;
I layde furst hande hym apon,
Ze may thonke me therfore."

"I pray God thanke yow," seid Litulle Johne, 175
"And we wil when we may;
We wil go with yow, with your leve,
And brynge yow on your way.

"For Robyn Hode hase many a wilde felow,
I telle yow in certen; 180
If thei wist ze rode this way,
In feith ze shulde be slayn."

As thei went talkyng be the way,
The munke and Litulle Johne,
Johne toke the munkes horse be the hede 185
Ful sone and anone.

Johne toke the munkes horse be the hed,
For sothe as I yow say,
So did Muche the litulle page,
For he shulde not stirre away. 190

Be the golett of the hode
Johne pulled the munke downe;
Johne was nothynge of hym agast,
He lete hym falle on his crowne.

Litulle Johne was sore agrevyd,[L195] 195
And drew out his swerde in hye;
The munke saw he shulde be ded,
Lowd mercy can he crye.

"He was my maister," seid Litulle Johne,
"That thou hase browzt in bale; 200
Shalle thou neuer cum at oure kynge
For to telle hym tale."

John smote of the munkes hed,
No longer wolde he dwelle;
So did Moche the litulle page, 205
For ferd lest he wold tell.

Ther thei beryed hem both
In nouther mosse nor lynge,
And Litulle Johne and Muche infere
Bare the letturs to oure kyng. 210

* * * * * *
He kneled down vpon his kne,
"God zow saue, my lege lorde,
"Jesus yow saue and se.

"God yow saue, my lege kyng,"
To speke Johne was fulle bolde; 215
He gaf hym the letturs in his hond,
The kyng did hit unfold.

The kyng red the letturs anon,
And seid, "so mot I the,
Ther was neuer zoman in mery Inglond 220
I longut so sore to see.

"Wher is the munke that these shuld haue browzt?"
Oure kynge gan say;
"Be my trouthe," seid Litull Jone,
"He dyed aftur the way." 225

The kyng gaf Moche and Litul Jon
xx pound in sertan,
And made theim zemen of the crowne,
And bade theim go agayn.

He gaf Johne the seel in hand, 230
The scheref for to bere,
To brynge Robyn hym to,
And no man do hym dere.

Johne toke his leve at oure kyng,
The sothe as I yow say; 235
The next way to Notyngham
To take he zede the way.

When Johne came to Notyngham
The zatis were sparred ychone;
Johne callid vp the porter, 240
He answerid sone anon.

"What is the cause," seid Litul John,
"Thou sparris the zates so fast?"
"Because of Robyn Hode," seid [the] porter,
In depe prison is cast. 245

"Johne, and Moche, and Wylle Scathlok,
For sothe as I yow say,
Thir slew oure men vpon oure wallis,
And sawtene vs euery day."

Litulle Johne spyrred aftur the schereff, 250
And sone he hym fonde;
He oppyned the kyngus privè seelle,
And gaf hym in his honde.

"When the schereff saw the kyngus seelle,
He did of his hode anon; 255
"Wher is the munke that bare the letturs?"
He seid to Litulle Johne.

"He is so fayn of hym," seid Litulle Johne,
"For sothe as I yow sey,
He has made hym abot of Westmynster, 260
A lorde of that abbay."

The scheref made John gode chere,
And gaf hym wine of the best;
At nyzt thei went to her bedde,
And euery man to his rest. 265

When the scheref was on-slepe
Dronken of wine and ale,
Litul Johne and Moche for sothe
Toke the way vnto the jale.[L269]

Litul Johne callid vp the jayler, 270
And bade hym ryse anon;
He seid Robyn Hode had brokyn preson,
And out of hit was gon.

The portere rose anon sertan,
As sone as he herd John calle; 275
Litul Johne was redy with a swerd,
And bare hym to the walle.

"Now will I be porter," seid Litul Johne,
"And take the keyes in honde;"
He toke the way to Robyn Hode, 280
And sone he hym vnbonde.

He gaf hym a gode swerd in his hond,
His hed with for to kepe,
And ther as the walle was lowyst
Anon down can thei lepe. 285

Be that the cok began to crow,
The day began to sprynge,
The scheref fond the jaylier ded,
The comyn belle made he rynge.

He made a crye thoroowt al the tow[n], 290
Whedur he be zoman or knave,
That cowthe brynge hym Robyn Hode,
His warisone he shuld haue.

"For I dar neuer," said the scheref,
"Cum before oure kynge, 295
For if I do, I wot serten,
For sothe he wil me henge."

The scheref made to seke Notyngham,
Bothe be strete and stye,
And Robyn was in mery Scherwode 300
As lizt as lef on lynde.

Then bespake gode Litulle Johne,
To Robyn Hode can he say,
"I haue done the a gode turne for an euylle,
Quyte me whan thou may.[L305] 305

"I haue done the a gode turne," said Litulle Johne,
"For sothe as I you saie;
I haue brouzt the vnder grene wode lyne;
Fare wel, and haue gode day."

"Nay, be my trouthe," seid Robyn Hode, 310
"So shalle hit neuer be;
I make the maister," seid Robyn Hode,
"Off alle my men and me."

"Nay, be my trouthe," seid Litulle Johne,
"So shall hit neuer be, 315
But lat me be a felow," seid Litulle Johne,
"Non odur kepe I'll be."

Thus Johne gate Robyn Hode out of prisone,
Sertan withoutyn layne;
When his men saw hym hol and sounde, 320
For sothe they were ful fayne.

They filled in wyne, and made him glad,
Vnder the levys smale,
And zete pastes of venysone,
That gode was with ale. 325

Than worde came to oure kynge,
How Robyn Hode was gone,
And how the scheref of Notyngham
Durst neuer loke hyme vpone.

Then bespake oure cumly kynge, 330
In an angur hye,
"Litulle Johne hase begyled the schereff,
In faith so hase he me.

"Litulle Johne has begyled vs bothe,
And that fulle wel I se, 335
Or ellis the schereff of Notyngham
Hye hongut shuld he be.

"I made hem zemen of the crowne,
And gaf hem fee with my hond,
I gaf hem grithe," seid oure kyng, 340
"Thorowout alle mery Inglond.

"I gaf hem grithe," then seide oure kyng,
"I say, so mot I the,
For sothe soche a zeman as he is on
In alle Ingland ar not thre. 345

"He is trew to his maister," seide oure kynge,
"I sey, be swete seynt Johne;
He louys bettur Robyn Hode,
Then he dose vs ychone.

"Robyne Hode is euer bond to him, 350
Bothe in strete and stalle;
Speke no more of this matter," seid oure kynge,[L352]
"But John has begyled vs alle."

Thus endys the talkyng of the munke
And Robyne Hode i-wysse;
God, that is euer a crowned kyng,
Bryng vs alle to his blisse.

32. MS. ther.

39. MS. th' now.

93. See the Fourth Fit of the _Lyttell Geste_.

100. MS. gode wone.

125. MS. rule.

195. MS. so.

269, gale.

305. MS. Quyte the.

352. MS. mere.

ROBIN HOOD AND THE POTTER.

From Ritson's _Robin Hood_, i. 81. "This curious, and hitherto unpublished, and even unheard of old piece," remarks that editor, "is given from a manuscript among Bishop More's collections, in the Public Library of the University of Cambridge (Ee. 4. 35). The writing, which is evidently that of a vulgar and illiterate person, appears to be of the age of Henry VII., that is, about the year 1500; but the composition (which he has irremediably corrupted) is probably of an earlier period, and much older, no doubt, than _The Play of Robyn Hode_, which seems allusive to the same story."

Mr. Wright thinks the manuscript is proved to be of the time of Henry VI. by a memorandum on one page, setting forth the expenses of the feast on the marriage of the king with Margaret:--"Thys ys exspences of fflesche at the mariage of my ladey Marg'et, that sche had owt off Eynglonde." But this memorandum is more likely to apply to Margaret, daughter of Henry VII., who was married "_out_ of England," that is, in Scotland, to James IV., than to the Margaret who was married _in_ England to Henry VI. (_Ed. Rev._ lxxxvi. 126.)

The adventure in the first part of this story,--the encounter between Robin Hood and a sturdy fellow who proves his match or his superior--forms the subject of a large number of this circle of ballads, the antagonist being in one case a beggar, in another a tanner, a tinker, the pinder of Wakefield, &c. (See the preface to _Robin Hood and the Beggar_, p. 188.) The story of the second part is found again in _Robin Hood and the Butcher_, and, with considerable differences, in the third fit of the _Lytell Geste_.

It is in the disguise of a potter that the Saxon Hereward penetrates into the Norman court, and that Eustace the Monk eludes the vengeance of the Count of Boulogne. Eustace also drew his enemy into an ambush by nearly the same stratagem which Robin employs to entice the sheriff of Nottingham into the forest. (See the romances abridged in Wright's _Essays_, ii. 108, 133, 135, 184.)

In schomer, when the leves spryng,
The bloschems on every bowe,
So merey doyt the berdys syng
Yn wodys merey now.

Herkens, god yemen, 5
Comley, corteysse, and god,[L6]
On of the best that yever bar bou,
Hes name was Roben Hode.

Roben Hood was the yemans name,
That was boyt corteys and fre; 10
For the loffe of owr ladey,
All wemen werschep he.[L12]

Bot as the god yemen stod on a day,
Among hes mery manèy,
He was war of a prowd potter, 15
Cam dryfyng owyr the ley.[L16]

"Yonder comet a prod potter," seyde Roben,[L17]
"That long hayt hantyd this wey;
He was never so corteys a man
On peney of pawage to pay." 20

"Y met hem bot at Wentbreg," seyde Lytyll John,[L21]
"And therfor yeffell mot he the,
Seche thre strokes he me gafe,
Yet they cleffe by my seydys.

"Y ley forty shillings," seyde Lytyll John, 25
"To pay het thes same day,
Ther ys nat a man among hus all
A wed schall make hem ley."[L28]

"Her ys forty shillings," seyde Roben,
"Mor, and thow dar say, 30
That y schall make that prowde potter,
A wed to me schall he ley."

Ther thes money they leyde,
They toke het a yeman to kepe;
Roben befor the potter he breyde, 35
And bad hem stond stell.[L36]

Handys apon hes horse he leyde,
And bad the potter stonde foll stell;
The potter schorteley to hem seyde,
"Felow, what ys they well?" 40

"All thes thre yer, and mor, potter," he seyde,
"Thow hast hantyd thes wey,
Yet wer tow never so cortys a man
One peney of pauage to pay."

"What ys they name," seyde the potter, 45
"For pauage thow ask of me?"
"Roben Hod ys mey name,
A wed schall thow leffe me."

"Wed well y non leffe," seyde the potter,
"Nor pavag well y non pay; 50
Awey they honde fro mey horse,
Y well the tene eyls, be mey fay."

The potter to hes cart he went,
He was not to seke;
A god to-hande staffe therowt he hent, 55
Befor Roben he lepe.[L56]

Roben howt with a swerd bent,
A bokeler en hes honde [therto];
The potter to Roben he went,
And seyde, "Felow, let mey horse go." 60

Togeder then went thes two yemen,
Het was a god seyt to se;
Therof low Robyn hes men,
Ther they stod onder a tre.

Leytell John to hes felowhes seyde,[L65] 65
"Yend potter welle steffeley stonde:"
The potter, with an acward stroke,[L67]
Smot the bokeler owt of hes honde;

And ar Roben meyt get hem agen[L69]
Hes bokeler at hes fette, 70
The potter yn the neke hem toke,
To the gronde sone he yede.

That saw Roben hes men,
As thay stode ender a bow;
"Let us helpe owr master," seyed Lytell John, 75
"Yonder potter els well hem sclo."[L76]

Thes yemen went with a breyde,[L77]
To ther master they cam.[L78]
Leytell John to hes master seyde,
"Ho haet the wager won? 80

"Schall y haff yowr forty shillings," seyde Lytel John,
"Or ye, master, schall haffe myne?"
"Yeff they wer a hundred," seyde Roben,
"Y feythe, they ben all theyne."

"Het ys fol leytell cortesey," seyde the potter, 85
"As y haffe harde weyse men saye,
Yeff a por yeman com drywyng ower the wey,
To let hem of hes gorney."

"Be mey trowet, thow seys soyt," seyde Roben,
"Thow seys god yemenrey;[L90] 90
And thow dreyffe forthe yevery day,
Thow schalt never be let for me.

"Y well prey the, god potter,
A felischepe well thow haffe?
Geffe me they clothyng, and thow schalt hafe myne; 95
Y well go to Notynggam."

"Y grant therto," seyde the potter,[L97]
"Thow schalt feynde me a felow gode;
Bot thow can sell mey pottes well,
Come ayen as thow yode."[L100] 100

"Nay, be mey trowt," seyde Roben,
"And then y bescro mey hede
Yeffe y bryng eney pottes ayen,
And eney weyffe well hem chepe."

Than spake Leytell John, 105
And all hes felowhes heynd,
"Master, be well war of the screffe of Notynggam,
For he ys leytell howr frende."

"Heyt war howte," seyde Roben,[L109]
"Felowhes, let me alone; 110
Thorow the helpe of howr ladey,
To Notynggam well y gon."

Robyn went to Notynggam,[L113]
Thes pottes for to sell;
The potter abode with Robens men, 115
Ther he fered not eylle.

Tho Roben droffe on hes wey,
So merey ower the londe:
Heres mor and affter ys to saye,
The best ys beheynde. 120

MS. 6, cortessey.

12, ye.

16, lefe.

MS. 17, 21, syde.

28, leffe.

36, A.

MS. 56, leppyd.

MS. 65, felow he.

67, a caward.

69, A.

76, seyde hels.

77, went yemen.

78, thes.

MS. 90, yemerey.

97, grat.

100, yede.

109-112. These lines stand in the MS. in the order 3, 2, 1, 4.

113-116. This stanza is wrongly placed in the MS. after v. 96. It
should he either in the place where it stands, or else begin the
next fit.

[THE SECOND FIT.]

When Roben cam to Notynggam,
The soyt yef y scholde saye,
He set op hes horse anon,
And gaffe hem hotys and haye.

Yn the medys of the towne, 125
Ther he schowed hes war;
"Pottys! pottys!" he gan crey foll sone,
"Haffe hansell for the mar."

Foll effen agenest the screffeys gate
Schowed he hes chaffar; 130
Weyffes and wedowes abowt hem drow,
And chepyd fast of hes war.

Yet, "Pottys, gret chepe!" creyed Royn,
"Y loffe yeffell thes to stonde;"
And all that saw hem sell,[L135] 135
Seyde he had be no potter long.

The pottys that wer werthe pens feyffe,
He sold tham for pens thre;
Preveley seyde man and weyffe,
"Ywnder potter schall never the." 140

Thos Roben solde foll fast,
Tell he had pottys bot feyffe;
Op he hem toke of his ear,
And sende hem to the screffeys weyffe.

Therof sche was foll fayne, 145
"Gramarsey, sir," than seyde sche;[L146]
"When ye com to thes contre ayen,
Y schall bey of they pottys, so mot y the."[L148]

"Ye schall haffe of the best," seyde Roben,
And swar be the treneytè; 150
Foll corteysley she gan hem call,[L151]
"Com deyne with the screfe and me."

"Godamarsey," seyde Roben,
"Yowr bedyng schalle be doyn;
A mayden yn the pottys gan ber, 155
Roben and the screffe weyffe folowed anon.

Whan Roben ynto the hall cam,
The screffe sone he met;
The potter cowed of corteysey,
And sone the screffe he gret. 160

"Loketh what thes potter hayt geffe yow and me;[L161]
Feyffe pottys smalle and grete!"
"He ys fol wellcom," seyd the screffe,
"Let os was, and go to mete."[L164]

As they sat at her methe, 165
With a nobell cher,
Two of the screffes men gan speke
Off a gret wagèr,

Was made the thother daye,[L169]
Off a schotyng was god and feyne,[L170] 170
Off forty shillings, the soyt to saye,
Who scholde thes wager wen.

Styll than sat thes prowde potter,
Thos than thowt he;
"As y am a trow Cerstyn man, 175
Thes schotyng well y se."

Whan they had fared of the best.
With bred and ale and weyne,
To the bottys they made them prest,[L179]
With bowes and boltys foll feyne.[L180] 180

The screffes men schot foll fast,
As archares that weren godde;
Ther cam non ner ney the marke
Bey halfe a god archares bowe.

Stell then stod the prowde potter, 185
Thos than seyde he;
"And y had a bow, be the rode,
On schot scholde yow se."

"Thow schall haffe a bow," seyde the screffe,
"The best that thow well cheys of thre; 190
Thou semyst a stalward and a stronge,[L191]
Asay schall thow be."

The screffe commandyd a yeman that stod hem bey
Affter bowhes to wende;
The best bow that the yeman browthe 195
Roben set on a stryng.

"Now schall y wet and thow be god,
And polle het op to they ner;"
"So god me helpe," seyde the prowde potter,
"Thys ys bot rygzt weke ger." 200

To a quequer Roben went,
A god bolt owthe he toke;
So ney on to the marke he went,
He fayled not a fothe.

All they schot abowthe agen, 205
The screffes men and he;
Off the marke he welde not fayle,
He cleffed the preke on thre.

The screffes men thowt gret schame,
The potter the mastry wan; 210
The screffe lowe and made god game,
And seyde, "Potter, thow art a man;
Thow art worthey to ber a bowe,
Yn what plas that thow gang."[L214]

"Yn mey cart y haffe a bowe, 215
Forsoyt," he seyde, "and that a godde;
Yn mey cart ys the bow
That I had of Robyn Hode."[L218]

"Knowest thow Robyn Hode?" seyde the screffe,
"Potter, y prey the tell thou me;" 220
"A hundred torne y haffe schot with hem,
Under hes tortyll tree."

"Y had lever nar a hundred ponde," seyde the screffe,
And swar be the trenitè,
["Y had lever nar a hundred ponde," he seyde,] 225
That the fals owtelawe stod be me.

"And ye well do afftyr mey red," seyde the potter,
"And boldeley go with me,
And to morow, or we het bred,
Roben Hode wel we se." 230

"Y well queyt the," kod the screffe,
And swer be god of meythe;[L232]
Schetyng thay left, and hom they went,
Her scoper was redey deythe.

Upon the morow, when het was day, 235
He boskyd hem forthe to reyde;
The potter hes carte forthe gan ray,
And wolde not [be] leffe beheynde.

He toke leffe of the screffys wyffe,
And thankyd her of all thyng: 240
"Dam, for mey loffe, and ye well thys wer,
Y geffe yow her a golde ryng."

"Gramarsey," seyde the weyffe,
"Sir, god eylde het the;"
The screffes hart was never so leythe, 245
The feyr forest to se.

And when he cam ynto the foreyst,
Yonder the leffes grene,
Berdys ther sange on bowhes prest,
Het was gret joy to sene.[L250] 250

"Her het ys merey to be," seyde Roben,[L251]
"For a man that had hawt to spende;
Be mey horne we schall awet
Yeff Roben Hode be ner hande."[L254]

Roben set hes horne to hes mowthe,[L255] 255
And blow a blast that was foll god,
That herde hes men that ther stode,
Fer downe yn the wodde;
"I her mey master" seyde Leytell John;[L259]
They ran as thay wer wode. 260

Whan thay to thar master cam,
Leytell John wold not spar;
"Master, how haffe yow far yn Notynggam?
How haffe yow solde yowr war?"

"Ye, be mey trowthe, Leytyll John,[L265] 265
Loke thow take no car;
Y haffe browt the screffe of Notynggam,
For all howr chaffar."

"He ys foll wellcom," seyde Lytyll John,
"Thes tydyng ys foll godde; 270
The screffe had lever nar a hundred ponde
[He had never sene Roben Hode.]

"Had I west that beforen,[L273]
At Notynggam when we wer,
Thow scholde not com yn feyr forest 275
Of all thes thowsande eyr."

"That wot y well," seyde Roben,
"Y thanke god that ye be her;
Therfor schall ye leffe yowr horse with hos,
And all your hother ger." 280

"That fend I godys forbode," kod the screffe,
"So to lese mey godde;"
"Hether ye cam on horse foll hey,[L283]
And hom schall ye go on fote;
And gret well they weyffe at home, 285
The woman ys foll godde.

"Y schall her sende a wheyt palffrey,[L287]
Het hambellet as the weynde;
Ner for the loffe of yowr weyffe,
Off mor sorow scholde yow seyng." 290

Thes parted Robyn Hode and the screffe,
To Notynggam he toke the waye;
Hes weyffe feyr welcomed hem hom,
And to hem gan sche saye:

"Seyr, how haffe yow fared yn grene foreyst? 295
Haffe ye browt Roben hom?"
"Dam, the deyell spede him, bothe bodey and bon,
Y haffe hade a foll grete skorne.

"Of all the god that y haffe lade to grene wod,
He hayt take het fro me, 300
All bot this feyr palffrey,
That he hayt sende to the."

With that sche toke op a lowde lawhyng,
And swhar be hem that deyed on tre,
"Now haffe yow payed for all the pottys 305
That Roben gaffe to me.

"Now ye be com hom to Notynggam,
Ye schall haffe god ynowe;"
Now speke we of Roben Hode,
And of the pottyr onder the grene bowhe.[L310] 310

"Potter, what was they pottys worthe
To Notynggam that y ledde with me?"
"They wer worth two nobellys," seyd he,
"So mot y treyffe or the;
So cowde y had for tham, 315
And y had ther be."[L316]

"Thow schalt hafe ten ponde," seyde Roben,
"Of money feyr and fre;
And yever whan thou comest to grene wod,
Wellcom, potter to me." 320

Thes partyd Robyn, the screffe, and the potter,
Ondernethe the grene-wod tre;
God haffe mersey on Robyn Hodys solle,
And saffe all god yemanrey!

MS. 135, say.

146, Gereamarsey, sir, seyde sche s'than.

148, the.

151, he.

MS. 161, loseth. 164, to to.

164. This ceremony [of washing,] which, in former times, was
constantly practised as well before as after meat, seems to have
fallen into disuse on the introduction of forks, about the year
1620; as before that period our ancestors supplied the place of this
necessary utensil with their fingers.--RITSON.

169, 170, transposed in MS.

MS. 179, pottys the.

180, bolt yt.

191, senyst.

MS. 214, goe.

218, Robyng gaffe me.

232, mey they.

MS. 250, goy.

251, se.

254, he.

255, her.

259. For.

MS. 265, I leyty.

273, He had west.

283, y.

287. The MS. repeats this line after the following: Het ambellet be
mey sey.

MS. 310, bowhes.

316, be ther.

ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER.

Ritson's _Robin Hood_, ii. 27. Printed from an old black-letter copy in the collection of Anthony à Wood. The story is the same as in the second part of _Robin Hood and the Potter_.

Come, all you brave gallants, and listen awhile,
_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.

Upon a time it chancèd so, 5
Bold Robin in forrest did 'spy
A jolly butcher, with a bonny fine mare,
With his flesh to the market did hye.

"Good morrow, good fellow," said jolly Robin,
"What food hast [thou]? tell unto me; 10
Thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell,
For I like well thy company."

The butcher he answer'd jolly Robin,
"No matter where I dwell;
For a butcher I am, and to Nottingham 15
I am going, my flesh to sell."

"What's [the] price of thy flesh?" said jolly Robin,[L17]
"Come, tell it soon unto me;
And the price of thy mare, be she never so dear,
For a butcher fain would I be." 20

"The price of my flesh," the butcher repli'd,
"I soon will tell unto thee;
With my bonny mare, and they are not too dear,
Four mark thou must give unto me.

"Four mark I will give thee," saith jolly Robin, 25
"Four mark it shall be thy fee;
The mony come count, and let me mount,
For a butcher I fain would be."

Now Robin he is to Nottingham gone,
His butchers trade to begin; 30
With good intent to the sheriff he went,
And there he took up his inn.

When other butchers did open their meat,
Bold Robin he then begun;
But how for to sell he knew not well, 35
For a butcher he was but young.

When other butchers no meat could sell,
Robin got both gold and fee;
For he sold more meat for one peny
Then others could do for three. 40

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.

Which made the butchers of Nottingham 45
To study as they did stand,
Saying, "Surely he 'is' some prodigal,
That hath sold his fathers land."

The butchers stepped to jolly Robin,
Acquainted with him for to be; 50
"Come, brother," one said, "we be all of one trade,
"Come, will you go dine with me?"

"Accurst of his heart," said jolly Robin,
"That a butcher doth deny;
I will go with you, my brethren true, 55
As fast as I can hie."

But when to the sheriffs house they came,
To dinner they hied apace,
And Robin Hood he the man must be
Before them all to say grace. 60

"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 do I end my grace.

"Come fill us more wine," said jolly Robin, 65
"Let us be merry while we do stay;
For wine and good cheer, be it never so dear,
I vow I the reck'ning will pay.

"Come, 'brothers,' be merry," said jolly Robin,
"Let us drink, and never give ore; 70
For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way,
If it cost me five pounds and more."

"This is a mad blade," the butchers then said;
Saies the sheriff, "He is some prodigàl,
That some land has sold for silver and gold, 75
And now he doth mean to spend all.

"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; 80

"And a hundred aker of good free land,
If you please it to see:
And Ile make you as good assurance of it,
As ever my father made me."

The sheriff he saddled his good palfrèy, 85
And, with three hundred pound in gold,
Away he went with bold Robin Hood,
His horned beasts to behold.

Away then the sheriff and Robin did ride,
To the forrest of merry Sherwood; 90
Then the sheriff did say, "God bless us this day
From a man they call Robin Hood!"

But when a little farther they came,
Bold Robin he chancèd to spy
A hundred head of good red deer, 95
Come tripping the sheriff full nigh.

"How like you my horn'd 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." 100

Then Robin set his horn to his mouth,
And blew but blasts three;
Then quickly anon there came Little John,
And all his company.

"What is your will, master?" then said Little John,
"Good master come tell unto me;" 105
"I have brought hither the sheriff of Nottingham
This day to dine with thee."

"He is welcome to me," then said Little John,
"I hope he will honestly pay; 110
I know he has gold, if it be but well told,
Will serve us to drink a whole day."

Then Robin took his mantle from his back,
And laid it upon the ground:
And out of the sheriffs portmantle 115
He told three hundred pound.

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

17. What is price.

ROBYN AND GANDELYN.

This interesting ballad (derived from a manuscript of the 15th century,) belongs to the cycle of Robin Hood, as Mr. Wright remarks, "at least by its subject, if not by the person whose death it celebrates." It was first printed by Ritson in his _Ancient Songs and Ballads_, (i. 81,) and has been again printed by Mr. Wright in a little black-letter volume of _Songs and Carols_ (No. X); from which we take our copy.

The similarity of the name Gandelyn to the Gamelyn of the _Cook's Tale_, attributed to Chaucer, and the affinity of that story to the Robin Hood ballads, are alluded to by the last-named editor. Is it not possible that this name reappears again in the "Young Gamwell" of _Robin Hood and the Stranger_?

The dialect of this piece is proved by an incidental coincidence, says Mr. Wright, to be that of Warwickshire.

I herde a carpyng of a clerk
Al at zone wodes ende,
Of gode Robyn and Gandeleyn
Was ther non other thynge.[L4]
_Robynn lyth in grene wode Bowndyn._

Stronge theuys wern tho chylderin non, 5
But bowmen gode and hende:
He wentyn to wode to getyn hem fleych,
If God wold it hem sende.

Al day wentyn tho chylderin too,
And fleych fowndyn he non, 10
Til it were ageyn euyn,
The chylderin wold gon hom:

Half a honderid of fat falyf der
He comyn azon,
And all he wern fayr and fat inow, 15
But markyd was ther non.
"Be dere Gode," seyde gode [Robyn],
"Hereof we xul haue on."

Robyn bent his joly bowe,[L19]
Therin he set a flo, 20
The fattest der of alle [the herd]
The herte he clef a-to.

He hadde not the der islawe
Ne half out of the hyde,[L24]
There cam a schrewde arwe out of the west, 25
That felde Roberts pryde.

Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west
Be euery syde;
"Hoo hat myn mayster slayin,
Ho hat don this dede? 30
Xal I neuer out of grene wode go,
Ti[l] I se [his] sydis blede."

Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and lokyd west,
And sowt vnder the sunne,
He saw a lytil boy 35
He clepyn Wrennok of Doune:

A good bowe in his hond,
A brod arewe therine,
And fowre and xx goode arwys
Trusyd in a thrumme. 40
"Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn,
Herof thu xalt han summe:

"Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn,
Herof thu gyst plentè."
"Euere on for an other," seyde Gandeleyn, 45
"Mysaunter haue he xal fle."

"Qwerat xal our marke be?"
Seyde Gandeleyn:
"Eueryche at otheris herte,"
Seyde Wrennok ageyn. 50

"Ho xal zeue the ferste schote?"
Seyde Gandeleyn:
"And I xal zeue thè on beforn,"
Seyd Wrennok ageyn.

Wrennok schette a ful good schote, 55
And he schet not too hye;
Throw the sanchothis of his bryk,
It towchyd neyther thye.

"Now hast thu zouyn me on beforn,"
Al thus to Wrennok seyde he, 60
"And throw the myzt of our lady[L61]
A bettere I xal zeue the."

Gandeleyn bent his goode bowe,
And set therin a flo,
He schet throw his grene certyl, 65
His herte he clef on too.

"Now zalt thu neuer zelpe, Wrennok,
At ale ne at wyn,
That thu hast slawe goode Robyn
And his knaue Gandeleyn. 70

"Now xalt thu neuer zelpe, Wrennok,
At wyn ne at ale,
That thu hast slawe goode Robyn
And Gandeleyyn his knave."[L74]
_Robyn lyzth in grene wode bow[n]dyn._

4, MS. gynge.

19, MS. went.

24, cut of, Ritson.

61, MS. thu.

74, MS. knawe.

A LYTELL GESTE OF ROBYN HODE.

Three complete editions of this highly popular poem are known, all without date. The earliest, (perhaps not later than 1520,) is by Wynken de Worde, and has this title: _Here beginneth a mery geste of Robyn Hode and his meyne, and of the proude sheryfe of Notyngham_. A second is by William Copland, and is apparently made from the former. A third was printed from Copland's, for Edward White, and though without date is entered in the Stationers' Registers in 1594. Portions have been preserved of two other editions, earlier than any of these three. Ritson had in his hands a few leaves of an "old 4to. black-letter impression," by Wynken de Worde, "probably in 1489." _The Gest of Robyn Hode_ was also printed at Edinburgh, in 1508, by Chepman and Myllar, who in the same year issued a considerable number of poetical tracts. A volume of these, containing a large fragment of the piece in question, was most fortunately recovered towards the end of the last century, and has been reprinted in fac simile by the Messrs. Laing, Edinburgh, 1827.

The _Lytell Geste_ is obviously to be regarded as an heroic poem, constructed, partly or entirely, out of previously existing unconnected "rhymes of Robin Hood." The earlier ballads employed for this purpose have not been handed down to us in their primitive form. Whatever this may have been, they were probably very freely treated by the rhapsodist that strung them together, who has indeed retold the ancient stories with such skill as might well cause the ruder originals to be forgotten. Nevertheless, the third fit of our little epic is indisputably of common derivation with the last part of the older ballad of _Robin Hood and the Potter_, and other portions of this tale occur separately in ballads, which, though modern in their structure, may have had a source independent of the _Lytell Geste_.

It will be observed that each fit of this piece does not constitute a complete story. Mr. Hunter has correctly enough indicated the division into ballads as follows: The first ballad is comprised in the first two fits, and may be called Robin Hood and the Knight; the second ballad is the third fit, and may be called Little John and the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire; in the fourth fit we have the ballad of Robin Hood and the Monks of St. Mary; in the fifth and sixth, Robin Hood, the Sheriff of Nottingham, and the Knight; the seventh and part of the eighth contain the ballad of Robin Hood and the King; and the remaining stanzas of the eighth the Death of Robin Hood.

Concerning the imagined historical foundation of the _Lytell Geste_, see the general remarks on Robin Hood prefixed to this volume.

Lithe and lysten, gentylmen,
That be of frebore blode;
I shall you tell of a good yemàn,
His name was Robyn Hode.

Robyn was a proude outlawe, 5
Whyles he walked on grounde;
So curteyse an outlawe as he was one
Was never none yfounde.

Robyn stode in Bernysdale,[L9]
And lened hym to a tre, 10
And by hym stode Lytell Johan,
A good yeman was he;

And also dyde good Scathelock,
And Much the millers sone;
There was no ynche of his body, 15
But it was worthe a grome.

Than bespake hym Lytell Johan
All unto Robyn Hode,
"Mayster, yf ye wolde dyne betyme,
It wolde do you moch good." 20

Then bespake good Robyn,
"To dyne I have no lest,[L22]
Tyll I have some bolde baròn,
Or some unketh gest,

"[Or els some byshop or abbot] 25
That may paye for the best;
Or some knyght or some squyere
That dwelleth here by west."

A good maner than had Robyn,
In londe where that he were, 30
Every daye or he woulde dyne
Thre messes wolde he here:

The one in the worshyp of the fader,
The other of the holy goost,
The thyrde was of our dere lady, 35
That he loved of all other moste.

Robyn loved our dere lady;
For doute of dedely synne,
Wolde he never do company harme
That ony woman was ynne. 40

"Mayster," than sayd Lytell Johan,
"And we our borde shall sprede,
Tell us whether we shall gone,
And what lyfe we shall lede;

"Where we shall take, where we shall leve, 45
Where we shall abide behynde,
Where we shall robbe, where we shall reve,
Where we shall bete and bynde."

"Therof no fors," said Robyn,
"We shall do well ynough; 50
But loke ye do no housbonde harme
That tylleth with his plough;

"No more ye shall no good yemàn,
That walketh by grene wode shawe,
Ne no knyght, ne no squyèr, 55
That wolde be a good felawe.

"These byshoppes, and thyse archebysshoppes,
Ye shall them bete and bynde;
The hye sheryfe of Notynghame,
Hym holde in your mynde." 60

"This worde shall be holde," sayd Lytyll Johan,
"And this lesson shall we lere;
It is ferre dayes, god sende us a gest,
That we were at our dynere."

"Take thy good bowe in thy hande," said Robyn, 65
"Let Moche wende with the,
And so shall Wyllyam Scathelocke,
And no man abyde with me:

"And walke up to the Sayles,[L69]
And so to Watlynge-strete,[L70] 70
And wayte after some unketh gest,
Up-chaunce ye mowe them mete.

"Be he erle or ony baròn,
Abbot or ony knyght,
Brynge hym to lodge to me, 75
Hys dyner shall be dyght."

They wente unto the Sayles,
These yemen all thre,
They loked est, they loked west,
They myght no man see. 80

But as they loked in Barnysdale,
By a derne strete,
Then came there a knyght rydynge,
Full sone they gan hym mete.

All dreri then was his semblaunte,[L85] 85
And lytell was hys pryde,
Hys one fote in the sterope stode,
That other waved besyde.

Hys hode hangynge over hys eyen two,
He rode in symple aray; 90
A soryer man than he was one
Rode never in somers-day.

Lytell Johan was curteyse,
And set hym on his kne:
"Welcome be ye, gentyll knyght, 95
Welcome are you to me.

"Welcome be thou to grene wood,
Hende knyght and fre;
My mayster hath abyden you fastynge,
Syr, all these oures thre." 100

"Who is your mayster?" sayd the knyght.
Johan sayde, "Robyn Hode."
"He is a good yeman," sayd the knyght,
"Of hym I have herde moch good.

"I graunte," he sayd, "with you to wende, 105
My brethren, all in-fere;[L106]
My purpose was to have deyned to day
At Blythe or Dankastere."

Forthe than went this gentyll knyght,[L109]
With a carefull chere; 110
The teres out of his eyen ran,
And fell downe by his lere.[L112]

They brought hym unto the lodge dore;
When Robyn gan hym se,
Full curteysly dyde of his hode, 115
And set hym on his kne.

"Welcome, syr knyght," then said Robyn,
"Welcome thou arte to me,
I haue abyde you fastynge, syr,
All these houres thre." 120

Then answered the gentyll knyght,
With wordes fayre and fre,
"God the save, good Robyn,
And all thy fayre meynè."

They washed togyder and wyped bothe, 125
And set tyll theyr dynere;
Brede and wyne they had ynough,
And nombles of the dere.

Swannes and fesauntes they had full good,
And foules of the revere; 130
There fayled never so lytell a byrde,
That ever was bred on brere.

"Do gladly, syr knyght," sayd Robyn;
"Gramercy, syr," sayd he,
"Such a dyner had I not 135
Of all these wekes thre.

"If I come agayne, Robyn,
Here by this countrè,
As good a dyner I shall the make,
As thou hast made to me." 140

"Gramercy, knyght," sayd Robyn;
"My dyner whan I have,
I was never so gredy, by dere worthy god,
My dyner for to crave.

"But pay or ye wende," sayd Robyn, 145
"Me thynketh it is good ryght;
It was never the maner, by dere worthy god,
A yeman to pay for a knyght."[L148]

"I have nought in my cofers," sayd the knyght,
"That I may profer for shame;" 150
"Lytell Johan, go loke," sayd Robyn,[L151]
"Ne let not for no blame.

"Tell me trouth," sayd Robyn,
"So god have parte of the;"
"I have no more but ten shillings," sayd the knyght, 155
"So god have parte of me."

"Yf thou have no more," sayd Robyn,
"I wyll not one peny;
And yf thou have nede of ony more,
More shall I len the. 160

"Go now forth, Lytell Johan,
The trouthe tell thou me;
Yf there be no more but ten shillings,
Not one peny that I se."

Lytell Johan spred downe his mantell, 165
Full fayre upon the grounde,
And there he found in the knyghtes cofer
But even halfe a pounde.

Lytyll Johan let it lye full styll,
And went to his mayster full lowe: 170
"What tydynge, Johan?" sayd Robyn:
"Syr, the knyght is trewe inough."

"Fyll of the best wyne," sayd Robyn,
"The knyght shall begynne;
Moch wonder thynketh me 175
Thy clothynge is so thynne.

"Tell me one worde," sayd Robyn,
"And counsell shall it be;
I trowe thou were made a knyght of forse,[L179]
Or elles of yemanry; 180

"Or elles thou hast ben a sory housband,
And leved in stroke and stryfe;
An okerer, or elles a lechoure," sayd Robyn,
"With wronge hast thou lede thy lyfe."

"I am none of them," sayd the knyght, 185
"By god that made me;
An hondreth wynter here before,
Myne aunsetters knyghtes have be.

"But ofte it hath befal, Robyn,
A man hath be dysgrate; 190
But god that syteth in heven above
May amend his state.

"Within two or thre yere, Robyn," he sayd,[L193]
"My neyghbores well it kende,[L194]
Foure hondreth pounde of good money 195
Full wel than myghte I spende.

"Now have I no good," sayd the knyght,
"But my chyldren and my wyfe;
God hath shapen such an ende,
Tyll god may amende my lyfe."[L200] 200

"In what maner," sayd Robyn,
"Hast thou lore thy richès?"
"For my grete foly," he sayd,
"And for my kindenesse.

"I had a sone, for soth, Robyn, 205
That sholde have ben my eyre,
When he was twenty wynter olde,
In felde wolde juste full feyre.

"He slewe a knyght of Lancastshyre,[L209]
And a squyre bolde; 210
For to save hym in his ryght,
My goodes beth sette and solde.

"My londes beth set to wedde, Robyn,
Untyll a certayne daye,
To a ryche abbot here besyde, 215
Of Saynt Mary abbay."

"What is the somme?" sayd Robyn,
"Trouthe than tell thou me;"
"Syr," he sayd, "foure hondred pounde,
The abbot tolde it to me." 220

"Now, and thou lese thy londe," sayd Robyn,
"What shall fall of the?"
"Hastely I wyll me buske," sayd the knyght,
"Over the salte see,

"And se where Cryst was quycke and deed 225
On the mounte of Caluarè:
Fare well, frende, and have good daye,
It may noo better be."[L228]

Teeres fell out of his eyen two,
He wolde haue gone his waye: 230
"Farewell, frendes, and have good day,
I ne have more to pay."

"Where be thy friendes?" sayd Robyn:[L233]
"Syr, never one wyll me know;[L234]
Whyle I was ryche inow at home, 235
Grete bost then wolde they blowe.

"And now they renne awaye fro me,
As bestes on a rowe;
They take no more heed of me
Then they me never sawe." 240

For ruthe then wepte Lytell Johan,
Scathelocke and Much in fere:[L242]
"Fyll of the best wyne," sayd Robyn,[L243]
"For here is a symple chere.

"Hast thou ony frendes," sayd Robyn, 245
"Thy borowes that wyll be?"
"I have none," then sayd the knyght,
"But god that dyed on a tree."

"Do waye thy japes," sayd Robyn,
"Therof will I right none; 250
Wenest thou I wyll have god to borowe,
Peter, Poule, or Johan?

"Nay, by hym that me made,
And shope both sonne and mone;
Fynde a better borowe," sayd Robyn, 255
"Or mony getest thou none."

"I have none other," sayd the knyght,
"The sothe for to say,
But yf it be our dere lady,
She fayled me never or this day." 260

"By dere worthy god," sayd Robyn,
"To seche all England thorowe,
Yet founde I never to my pay
A moch better borowe.

"Come now forthe, Lytell Johan, 265
And goo to my tresourè,
And brynge me foure hondred pounde,
And loke that it well tolde be."

Forthe then wente Lytell Johan,
And Scathelocke went before, 270
He tolde out foure houndred pounde,
By eyghtene score.[L272]

"Is this well tolde?" said lytell Much.
Johan sayd, "What greveth the?
It is almes to helpe a gentyll knyght 275
That is fall in povertè."

"Mayster," than said Lytell Johan,
"His clothynge is full thynne;
Ye must gyve the knyght a lyveray
To lappe his body ther in.[L280] 280

"For ye have scarlet and grene, mayster,
And many a ryche aray;
There is no marchaunt in mery Englònde,
So ryche, I dare well saye."

"Take hym thre yerdes of every coloure, 285
And loke that well mete it be:"
Lytell Johan toke none other mesure
But his bowe tre.

And of every handfull that he met
He lept ouer fotes thre: 290
"What devilkyns draper," sayd litell Much,
"Thynkyst thou to be?"

Scathelocke stoode full styll and lough,
And sayd, "By god allmyght,
Johan may gyve hym the better mesure; 295
By god, it cost him but lyght."

"Mayster," sayd Lytell Johan,
All unto Robyn Hode,
"Ye must gyve that knight an hors,
To lede home al this good." 300

"Take hym a gray courser," sayd Robyn,
"And a sadell newe;
He is our ladyes messengere,
God lene that he be true."[L304]

"And a good palfraye," sayd lytell Moch, 305
"To mayntayne hym in his ryght:"
"And a payre of botes," sayd Scathelocke,
"For he is a gentyll knyght."

"What shalt thou gyve him, Lytel Johan?" sayd Robyn.
"Syr, a payre of gylte spores clene, 310
To pray for all this company:
God brynge hym out of tene!"

"Whan shall my daye be," sayd the knyght,
"Syr, and your wyll be?"
"This daye twelve moneth," sayd Robyn, 315
"Under this grene wode tre."

"It were grete shame," sayd Robyn,
"A knyght alone to ryde,
Without squyer, yeman, or page,
To walke by hys syde. 320

"I shall the lene Lytyll Johan my man,
For he shall be thy knave;
In a yemans steed he may the stonde,
Yf thou grete nede have."

9 Barnsdale is a tract of country, four or five miles broad, in the
West Riding of Yorkshire. It was, we are told, woodland until recent
inclosures, and is spoken of by Leland as a "woody and famous
forest" in the reign of Henry the Eighth. From the depths of this
retreat to Doncaster the distance is less than ten miles, and to
Nottingham, in a straight line, about fifty. A little to the north
of Barnsdale is Pontefract, and a little to the northwest is
Wakefield, and beyond this the Priory of Kirklees. Mr. Hunter, whom
we follow here, has shown by contemporary evidence that Barnsdale
was infested by robbers in the days of the Edwards. "In the last
year of the reign of King Edward the First, the bishops of St.
Andrew's and Glasgow, and the Abbot of Scone were conveyed, at the
King's charge, from Scotland to Winchester. In this journey they had
a guard, sometimes of eight archers, sometimes of twelve; but when
they had got as far south as Daventry, they had no archers at all in
attendance, and proceeded without a guard, in three days from thence
to Winchester. But when they passed from Pontefract to Tickhill, the
guard had been increased to the number of twenty archers, and the
reason given in the account of the expenses of their journey, for
this addition to the cost of the conveyance, is given in the two
words, _propter Barnsdale_."

22. lust, Ritson.

69, 70. "The Sayles," is a place no longer known, but it is certain
that there was formerly a place of the name in Barnsdale or near it.
"It was a very small tenancy of the manor of Pontefract, being not
more than the tenth of a knight's fee" (Hunter). Watling Street
stands here for the great North Road, probably a Roman highway,
which crosses Barnsdale.

85. all his. PCC.

106, so R. (ed. 1489): all three, W. C. (de Worde & Copland).

109, this, R. that, W. C.

112, ere, R.

148, to pay, R. pay, W. C.

151, Robyn, R. Robyn Hoode, W. C.

179. "This stanza is remarkable for containing a reference to one of
the old grievances of the people of England. In the reign of Henry
the Third, and his son, and grandson, the compelling persons, some
of them of no great estate, to take upon them the honour of
knighthood, or pay a large sum to be excused, was felt as a heavy
oppression."--HUNTER.

193, two yere, R.

194, knowe, OCC.

200, it may amende, OCC.

209, lancasesshyre, R.

228, not W. C.

233, by W. C.

234. So R. knowe me, W. C. The fragment of de Worde's older ed. ends
with v. 239.

242, also, PCC. for 'in fere.'

243. Wyme, PCC.

272. I.e. by so many score to the hundred. It is certainly a very
hyperbolical expression, but he measures the cloth in the same
way.--RITSON.

280, helpe, W. wrappe, C.

304. leue, W. lende, C

THE SECONDE FYTTE.

Nowe is the knyght went on his way,[L1]
This game hym thought full good;[L2]
When he loked on Bernysdale,
He blyssed Robyn Hode;

And whan he thought on Bernysdale, 5
On Scathelock, Much, and Johan,
He blyssed them for the best company
That ever he in come.

Then spake that gentyll knyght,
To Lytel Johan gan he saye, 10
"To-morrowe I must to Yorke toune,
To Saynt Mary abbay;

"And to the abbot of that place
Foure hondred pounde I must pay;
And but I be there upon this nyght 15
My londe is lost for ay."

The abbot sayd to his covent,
There he stode on grounde,
"This day twelfe moneth came there a knyght
And borowed foure hondred pounde. 20

"[He borowed foure hondred pounde,]
Upon all his londe fre,
But he come this ylke day
Dysheryte shall he be."

"It is full erely," sayd the pryoure,[L25] 25
"The day is not yet ferre gone;
I had lever to pay an hondred pounde,
And lay it downe anone.

"The knight is ferre beyonde the see,
In Englonde is his ryght, 30
And suffreth honger and colde,
And many a sory nyght.

"It were grete pytè," said the pryoure,
"So to have his londe;
And ye be so lyght of your conseyence, 35
Ye do to him moch wronge."

"Thou art euer in my berde," sayd the abbot,
"By god and saynt Rycharde;"
With that cam in a fat-heded monke,
The heygh selerer. 40

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

The abbot and the hy selerer, 45
Sterte forthe full bolde,
The high justyce of Englonde
The abbot there dyde holde.

The hye justyce and many mo
Had take into their honde 50
Holy all the knyghtes det,
To put that knyght to wronge.

They demed the knyght wonder sore,
The abbot and hys meynè:
"But he come this ylke day 55
Dysheryte shall he be."

"He wyll not come yet," sayd the justyce,
"I dare well undertake;"
But in sorowe tyme for them all
The knyght came to the gate. 60

Than bespake that gentyll knyght
Untyll hys meynè,
"Now put on your symple wedes
That ye brought fro the see."

[They put on their symple wedes,] 65
And came to the gates anone;
The porter was redy hymselfe,
And welcomed them everychone.

"Welcome, syr knyght," sayd the portèr,
"My lorde to mete is he, 70
And so is many a gentyll man,
For the love of the."