Chapter V: Introduction (3)

Lithe and listen, Gentlemen!
All that now be here,
Of Little JOHN, that was the Knight's man,
Good mirth ye shall hear.
It was upon a merry day
That young men would go shoot,
Little JOHN fetched his bow anon
And said he "would them meet."
Three times, Little JOHN shot about,
And always he sleste [_slit_] the wand:
The proud Sheriff of NOTTINGHAM
By the Marks 'gan stand.
The Sheriff swore a full great oath,
"By Him that died on the tree!
This man is the best archer
That yet saw I me!
Say me now, wight young man!
What is now thy name?
In what country wert thou born?
And where is thy woning wane?"
"In Holderness, I was born,
I-wis, all of my dame:
Men call me REYNOLD GREENLEAF,
When I am at home."
"Say me, REYNOLD GREENLEAF!
Wilt thou dwell with me?
And every year, I will thee give
Twenty marks to thy fee!"
"I have a Master," said Little JOHN,
"A courteous Knight is he;
May ye get leave of him, the better may it be."
The Sheriff got Little JOHN
Twelve months of the Knight;
Therefore he gave him right anon
A good horse and a wight.
Now is Little JOHN a Sheriff's man,
God give us well to speed!
But always thought Little JOHN
To quite him well his meed.
"Now, so God me help!" said Little JOHN,
"And be my true lewte!
I shall be the worst servant to him
That ever yet had he!"
It befel upon a Wednesday,
The Sheriff on hunting was gone,
And Little JOHN lay in his bed, and was forgot at home,
Therefore he was fasting till it was past the noon.
"Good Sir Steward, I pray thee,
Give me to dine!" said Little JOHN.
"It is long for GREENLEAF, fasting so long to be.
Therefore I pray thee, Steward, my dinner give thou me!"
"Shalt thou never eat nor drink," said the Steward,
"Till my lord be come to town!"
"I make my avow to God," said Little JOHN
"I had lever to crack thy crown!"
The Butler was full uncourteous,
There he stood on floor;
He started to the buttery, and shut fast the door.
Little JOHN gave the Butler such a rap
His back went nigh in two
Though he lived an hundred winters, the worse he should go.
He spurned the door with his foot, it went up well and fine!
And there he made a large 'livery
Both of ale and wine.
"Sir, if ye will not dine," said Little JOHN,
"I shall give you to drink!
And though ye live an hundred winters,
On Little JOHN ye shall think!"
Little JOHN eat and little JOHN drank, the while he would.
The Sheriff had in his kitchen a Cook,
A stout man and a bold,
"I make mine avow to God!" said the Cook,
"Thou art a shrewd hind,
In any household to dwell! for to ask thus to dine!"
And there he lent Little JOHN
Good strokes three.
"I make mine avow," said Little JOHN,
"These strokes liketh well.
Thou art a bold man and a hardy,
And so thinketh me!
And ere I pass from this place
Assayed better shalt thou be!"
Little JOHN drew a good sword,
The Cook took another in hand;
They thought nothing for to flee,
But stiffly for to stand.
There they fought sore together,
Two mile way and more;
Might neither other harm do
The maintenance of an hour.
"I make mine avow to God," said Little JOHN,
"And by my true lewte!
Thou art one of the best swordsmen
That ever yet saw I me,
Couldst thou shoot as well in a bow,
To green wood, thou shouldst with me!
And two times in the year, thy clothing
Ychanged should be!
And every year of ROBIN HOOD,
Twenty marks to thy fee!"
"Put up thy sword," said the Cook,
"And fellows will we be!"
Then he fetch to Little JOHN,
The nombles of a doe,
Good bread, and full good wine.
They eat and drank thereto.
And when they had drunken well,
Their troths together they plight,
That they would be with ROBIN
That ilk same night.
They did them to the treasure house
As fast as they might go;
The locks that were good steel,
They brake them everych one.
They took away the silver vessels,
And all that they might get;
Piece, mazers, ne spoons,
Would they none forget.
Also they took the good pence,
Three hundred pounds and more:
And did them strait to ROBIN HOOD
Under the green-wood hoar.
"God thee save, my dear master!
And CHRIST thee save and see!"
And then said ROBIN to Little JOHN,
"Welcome might thou be!
And also that fair yeoman,
Thou bringest there with thee!
What tidings from Nottingham,
Little JOHN? tell thou me!"
"Well thee greeteth the proud Sheriff!
And send thee here by me,
His Cook and his silver vessels,
And three hundred pounds and three!"
"I make mine avow to God!" said ROBIN,
"And to the Trinity!
It was never by his good-will
This good is come to me!"
Little JOHN him there bethought
On a shrewd wile. Five miles in the forest he ran.
Him happed at his will!
Then he met the proud Sheriff
Hunting with hounds and horn.
Little JOHN could his courtesy,
And kneeled him beforne.
"God thee save, my dear Master!
And CHRIST thee save and see!"
"REYNOLD GREENLEAF!" said the Sheriff,
"Where hast thou now be?"
"I have been in this forest;
A fair sight can I see;
It was one of the fairest sights
That ever yet saw I me!
Yonder I see a right fair hart,
His colour is of green!
Seven score of deer upon a herd,
Be with him all bedeen,
His tynde are so sharp, Master,
Of sixty and well mo,
That I durst not shoot for dread,
Lest they would me slo!"
"I make mine avow to God!" said the Sheriff,
"That sight would I fain see!"
"Busk you thitherward, my dear Master
Anon, and wend with me!"
The Sheriff rode, and Little JOHN,
Of foot he was full smart;
And when they came afore ROBIN,
"Lo, here is the master Hart!"
Still stood the proud Sheriff:
A sorry man was he!
"Woe the worth, REYNOLD GREENLEAF,
Thou hast betrayed me!"
"I make mine avow to God," said Little JOHN,
"Master, ye be to blame!
I was mis-served of my dinner,
When I was with you at home!"
Soon he was to supper set,
And served with silver white:
And when the Sheriff saw his vessel,
For sorrow, he might not eat!
"Make good cheer," said ROBIN HOOD,
"Sheriff! for charity!
And for the love of Little JOHN
Thy life is granted to thee!"
When they had supped well,
The day was all agone,
ROBIN commanded Little JOHN
To draw off his hosen and his shoon,
His kirtle and his courtepy,
That was furred well fine;
And took him a green mantle,
To lap his body therein.
ROBIN commanded his wight young men,
Under the green-wood tree,
They shall lay in that same suit,
That the Sheriff might them see.
All night lay that proud Sheriff,
In his breech and in his shirt:
No wonder it was in green wood
Though his sides do smart.
"Make glad cheer," said ROBIN HOOD,
"Sheriff, for charity!
For this is our order, I-wis,
Under the green-wood tree!"
"This is harder order," said the Sheriff,
"Than any Anchor or Frere!
For all the gold in merry England,
I would not long dwell here!"
"All these twelve months," said ROBIN,
"Thou shalt dwell with me!
I shall thee teach, proud Sheriff,
An outlaw for to be!"
"Ere I here another night lie," said the Sheriff,
"ROBIN, now I pray thee!
Smite off my head, rather to-morn,
And I forgive it thee!
Let me go then," said the Sheriff,
"For saint charity!
And I will be thy best friend,
That yet had ye!"
"Thou shalt swear me an oath!" said ROBIN,
"On my bright brand,
Thou shalt never await me scathe!
By water ne by land!
And if thou find any of my men,
By night, or by day,
Upon thine oath, thou shalt swear
To help them that thou may!"
Now has the Sheriff ysworn this oath,
And home he began to gone;
He was as full of green wood,
As ever was heap of stone.

+¶ The fourth fytte.+

The Sheriff dwelled in Nottingham,
He was fain that he was gone,
And ROBIN and his merry men
Went to wood anon.
"Go we to dinner?" said Little JOHN.
ROBIN HOOD said, "Nay!
For I dread our Lady be wroth with me;
For she [has] sent me not my pay!"
"Have no doubt, Master!" said Little JOHN.
"Yet is not the sun not at rest:
For I dare say and safely swear
The Knight is true and trust!"
"Take thy bow in thy hand!" said ROBIN.
"Let MUCH wend with thee!
And so shall WILLIAM SCATHELOCK;
And no man abide with me!
And walk up under the Sayles,
And to Watling Street;
And wait after such unketh guest,
Upchance ye may them meet.
Whether he be messenger,
Or a man that mirths can;
Of my good, he shall have some
If he be a poor man!"
Forth then started Little JOHN,
Half in tray or teen,
And girded him with a full good sword
Under a mantle of green.
They went up to the Sayles,
These yeomen all three,
They looked East, they looked West,
They might no man see.
But as they looked in Bernysdale,
By the highway
Then were they 'ware of two black monks,
Each on a good palfrey.
Then bespake Little JOHN,
To MUCH he 'gan say:
"I dare lay my life to wed
These monks have brought our pay!"
"Make glad cheer," said Little JOHN,
"And frese our bows of yew!
And look your hearts be sicker and sad,
Your strings trusty and true!"
The monk had fifty and two [men]
And seven somers full strong,
There rideth no Bishop in this land
So royally I understand.
"Brethren," said Little JOHN,
"Here are no more but we three;
But we bring them to dinner,
Our Master, dare we not see!"
"Bend your bows!" said Little JOHN,
"Make all yon press to stand!
The foremost monk, his life and his death,
Are closed in my hand.
Abide, churl Monk!" said Little JOHN,
"No further that thou go,
If thou dost, by dear-worthy God!
Thy death is in my hand!
And evil thrift on thy head!" said Little JOHN,
"Right under thy hat's band:
For thou hast made our Master wroth,
He is fasting so long!"
"Who is your Master?" said the Monk.
Little JOHN said, "ROBIN HOOD!"
"He is a strong thief!" said the Monk;
"Of him heard I never good!"
"Thou liest then!" said Little JOHN,
"And that shall rue thee!
He is a yeoman of the forest;
To dine, he hath bidden thee!"
MUCH was ready with a bolt,
Readily and anon,
He set the Monk tofore the breast
To the ground that he can gone.
Of fifty-two wight young yeomen
There abode not one;
Save a little page and a groom
To lead the somers with Little JOHN.
They brought the Monk to the lodge door,
Whether he were loth or lief,
For to speak with ROBIN HOOD,
Maugre in their teeth.
ROBIN did adown his hood,
The Monk when that he see,
The Monk who was not so courteous
His hood then let he be.
"He is a churl, Master! by dear-worthy God!"
Then said Little JOHN.
"Thereof no force!" said ROBIN,
"For courtesy can he none!
How many men," said ROBIN,
"Had this Monk, JOHN?"
"Fifty and two when that we met;
But many of them be gone."
"Let blow a horn!" said ROBIN,
"That fellowship may us know!"
Seven score of wight yeomen
Came pricking on a row,
And everych of them a good mantle
Of scarlet and of ray,
All they came to good ROBIN
To wit what he would say.
They made the Monk to wash and wipe,
And sit at his dinner,
ROBIN HOOD and Little JOHN
They served him both in-fere.
"Do gladly, Monk!" said ROBIN.
"Grammercy, Sir!" said he.
"Where is your Abbey, when ye are at home;
And who is your avow?"
"St. Mary's Abbey," said the Monk,
"Though I be simple here."
"In what office?" said ROBIN.
"Sir! the High Cellarer."
"Ye be the more welcome," said ROBIN.
"So ever might I thee."
"Fill of the best wine!" said ROBIN,
"This Monk shall drink to me!
But I have great marvel," said ROBIN,
"Of all this long day,
I dread our Lady be wroth with me,
She sent me not my pay!"
"Have no doubt, Master!" said Little JOHN,
"Ye have no need, I say:
This Monk, it hath brought, I dare well swear!
For he is of her Abbey."
"And She was a borrow," said ROBIN,
"Between a Knight and me,
Of a little money that I him lent
Under the green-wood tree;
And if thou hast that silver ybrought,
I pray thee let me see,
And I shall help thee eftsoons
If thou have need to me!"
The Monk swore a full great oath,
With a sorry cheer,
"Of the borrowhood thou speakest to me
Heard I never ere!"
"I make mine avow to God!" said ROBIN,
"Monk, thou art to blame!
For God is held a righteous man,
And so is his dame.
Thou toldest with thine own tongue
Thou mayst not say 'Nay!'
How thou art her servant,
And servest her every day:
And thou art made her messenger,
My money for to pay.
Therefore I can the more thanks,
Thou art come to thy day!
What is in your coffers?" said ROBIN;
"True, then, tell thou me?"
"Sir!" he said, "twenty marks!
Also might I thee!"
"If there be no more," said ROBIN,
"I will not one penny.
If thou hast myster of any more,
Sir, more I shall lend to thee!
And if I find more," said ROBIN,
"Iwis, thou shalt it forgo;
For of thy spending silver, Monk!
Thereof will I right none."
"Go now forth, Little JOHN,
And the truth, tell thou me!
If there be no more but twenty marks
No penny [of] that I see!"
Little JOHN spread his mantle down,
As he had done before,
And he told out of the Monk's mail
Eight hundred pound and more.
Little JOHN let it lie full still,
And went to his Master in haste;
"Sir!" he said, "the Monk is true enough;
Our Lady hath doubled your cast!"
"I make mine avow to God!" said ROBIN,
"Monk, what told I thee!
Our Lady is the truest woman
That ever yet found I me!
By dear worthy God!" said ROBIN,
"To seek all England through;
Yet found I never to my pay,
A much better borrow.
Fill of the best wine, and do him drink!" said ROBIN;
"And greet well thy Lady hend;
And if she have need to ROBIN HOOD,
A friend she shall him find:
And if she needeth any more silver,
Come thou again to me!
And, by this token she hath me sent,
She shall have such three!"
The Monk was going to London ward,
There to hold great Mote,
The Knight that rode so high on horse
To bring him under foot.
"Whither be ye away?" said ROBIN.
"Sir, to manors in this land,
To reckon with our Reeves
That have done much wrong."
"Come now forth, Little JOHN!
And hearken to my tale!
A better yeoman, I know none
To seek a Monk's mail.
How much is in yonder other corser?" said ROBIN,
"The sooth must we see!"
"By our Lady!" then said the Monk,
"That were no courtesy;
To bid a man to dinner,
And sith him beat and bind!"
"It is our old manner!" said ROBIN,
"To leave but little behind."
The Monk took the horse with spur,
No longer would he abide!
"Ask to drink!" then said ROBIN,
"Or that ye further ride?"
"Nay, for God!" said the Monk,
"Me rueth I came so near!
For better cheap, I might have dined
In Blyth or in Doncaster!"
"Greet well, your Abbot!" said ROBIN,
"And your Prior, I you pray!
And bid him send me such a Monk
To dinner every day!"

Now let we that Monk be still;
And speak we of the Knight!
Yet he came to hold his day
While that it was light.
He did him strait to Bernysdale,
Under the green-wood tree.
And he found there ROBIN HOOD
And all his merry meiny.
The Knight light down off his good palfrey.
ROBIN when he 'gan see;
So courteously he did adown his hood
And set him on his knee.
"God thee save, ROBIN HOOD,
And all this company!"
"Welcome, be thou, gentle Knight!
And right welcome to me!"
Then bespake him ROBIN HOOD,
To that Knight so free,
"What need driveth thee to green wood?
I pray thee, Sir Knight, tell me!
And welcome be, thou gentle Knight!
Why hast thou been so long?"
"For the Abbot and high Justice
Would have had my land?"
"Hast thou thy land again?" said ROBIN,
"Truth then tell thou me!"
"Yea, for God!" said the Knight,
"And that I thank God and thee!
But take not a grief," said the Knight,
"That I have been so long,
I came by a wrestling,
And there I helped a poor yeoman,
Who with wrong was put behind."
"Nay, for God!" said ROBIN,
"Sir Knight, that thank I thee!
What man that helpeth a good yeoman,
His friend then will I be."
"Have here four hundred pounds!" then said the Knight
"The which ye lent me,
And here is also twenty marks for your courtesy!"
"Nay, for God!" then said ROBIN,
"Thou brook it well for aye;
For our Lady, by her Cellarer,
Hath sent to me my pay!
And if I took it twice,
A shame it were to me!
But truly, gentle Knight,
Welcome art thou to me!"
When ROBIN had told his tale,
He laughed and had good cheer,
"By my troth!" then said the Knight,
"Your money is ready here!"
"Brook it well!" said ROBIN,
"Thou gentle Knight so free!
And welcome be thou, gentle Knight,
Under my trystel tree!
But what shall these bows do?" said ROBIN,
"And these arrows yfeathered free?"
"By God!" then said the Knight,
"A poor present to thee!"
"Come now forth, Little JOHN,
And go to my treasure,
And bring me there four hundred pounds
The Monk overtold it me.
Have here four hundred pounds,
Thou gentle Knight and true!
And buy horse and harness good,
And gilt thy spurs all new!
And if thou fail any spending,
Come to ROBIN HOOD!
And, by my troth, thou shalt none fail
The whiles I have any good;
And brook well thy four hundred pounds
Which I lent to thee!
And make thyself no more so bare;
By the counsel of me."

Thus then helped him, good ROBIN,
The Knight all of his care:
God that sits in heaven high
Grant us well to fare!

+The fifth fytte.+

Now hath the Knight his leave ytake,
And went him on his way.
ROBIN HOOD and his merry men
Dwelled still full many a day.
Lithe and listen, Gentlemen!
And hearken what I shall say,
How the proud Sheriff of NOTTINGHAM
Did cry a full fair Play,
That all the best archers of the North
Should come upon a day;
And he that shooteth alder best,
The game shall bear away!
He that shooteth alder best
Furthest, fair, and low,
At a pair of finely butts,
Under the green-wood shaw,
A right good arrow he shall have,
The shaft of silver white,
The head and feathers of rich red gold,
In England is none like.
This then heard good ROBIN,
Under his trystel tree.
"Make you ready, ye wight young men,
That shooting will I see!
Busk you, my merry young men,
Ye shall go with me!
And I will wit the Sheriff's faith;
True and if be he!"
When they had their bows ybent,
Their tackles feathered free,
Seven score of wight young men
Stood by ROBIN's knee.
When they came to Nottingham,
The butts were fair and long,
Many were the bold archers
That shooted with bowes strong.
"There shall but six shoot with me,
The others shall keep my head,
And stand with good bows bent
That I be not deceived."
The fourth outlaw, his bow 'gan bend,
And that was ROBIN HOOD:
And that beheld the proud Sheriff,
All by the butt he stood.
Thrice ROBIN shot about,
And always sliced the wand;
And so did good "GILBERT
With the white hand."
Little JOHN and good SCATHELOCK
Were archers good and free:
Little MUCH and good REYNOLD
The worst would they not be!
When they had shot about,
These archers fair and good:
Ever more was the best,
Forsooth, ROBIN HOOD.
Him was delivered the good arrow,
For best worthy was he:
He took the gift so courteously;
To green wood would he!
They cried out on ROBIN HOOD,
And great horns 'gan they blow!
"Woe worth the treason!" said ROBIN;
"Full evil thou art to know!
And woe be thou, thou proud Sheriff!
Thus gladding thy guest,
Otherwise thou behote me
In yonder wild forest,
But had I thee in green wood,
Under my trystel tree,
Thou shouldst leave me a better wed,
Than thy true lewte."
Full many a bow there was bent,
And arrows let they glide!
Many a kirtle there was rent,
And hurt many a side!
The outlaws' shot was so strong
That no man might them drive,
And the proud Sheriff's men
They fled away full blyve.
ROBIN saw the [am]bushment to broke,
In green wood he would have been;
Many an arrow there was shot
Among that company.
Little JOHN was hurt full sore,
With an arrow in his knee,
That he might neither go nor ride:
It was full great pity!
"Master!" then said Little JOHN,
"If ever thou lovest me;
And for that ilk Lord's love
That died upon a tree!
And for the meeds of my service,
That I have served thee:
Let never the proud Sheriff
Alive now find me!
But take out thy brown sword
And smite all off my head!
And give me wounds dead and wide,
No life on me be left!"
"I would not that," said ROBIN,
"JOHN! that thou be slo,
For all the gold in merry England,
Though it lay now on a row!"
"God forbid!" said Little MUCH,
"That died on a tree!
That thou shouldst, Little JOHN!
'Part our company!"
Up he took him on his back,
And bare him well nigh a mile:
Many a time, he laid him down,
And shot another while.
Then was there a fair Castle
A little within the wood;
Double ditched it was about,
And walled, by the rood:
And there dwelt that gentle Knight,
Sir RICHARD AT THE LEE,
That ROBIN had lent his good
Under the green-wood tree.
In he took good ROBIN
And all his company.
"Welcome be thou, ROBIN HOOD!
Welcome art thou, to me!
And much thank thee of thy comfort
And of thy courtesy,
And of thy great kindness
Under the green-wood tree!
I love no man, in all this world
So much as I do thee!
For all the proud Sheriff of NOTTINGHAM;
Right here shalt thou be!
Shut the gates, and draw the bridge;
And let no man come in!
And arm you well, and make you ready!
And to the wall ye win!
For one thing, ROBIN! I thee behote
I swear by St. Quintin!
These twelve days thou wonest with me,
To sup, eat, and dine!"
Boards were laid and cloths spread
Readily and anon:
ROBIN HOOD and his merry men
To meat 'gan they gone.

+¶ The sixth fytte.+

Lithe and listen, Gentlemen!
And hearken unto your song!
How the proud Sheriff of NOTTINGHAM
And men of armes strong
Full fast came to the High Sheriff
The country up to rout,
And they beset the Knight's Castle,
The walls all about.
The proud Sheriff loud 'gan cry
And said, "Thou traitor Knight!
Thou keepest here the King's enemy!
Against the laws and right!"
"Sir, I will avow that I have done
The deeds that here be dight,
Upon all the lands that I have,
As I am a true Knight,
Wend forth, Sirs, on your way;
And do no more to me,
Till ye wit our King's will
What he will say to thee!"
The Sheriff thus, had his answer
Without any leasing.
Forth he yode to London town,
All for to tell the King.
There he told them of that Knight,
And eke of ROBIN HOOD;
And also of the bold archers,
That noble were and good.
He would avow that he had done
To maintain the outlaws strong;
He would be Lord, and set you at nought
In all the North land.
"I will be at Nottingham," said the King,
"Within this fortnight!
And take I will, ROBIN HOOD;
And so I will that Knight!
Go now home, Sheriff," said the King,
"And do as I thee bid.
And ordain good archers ynow
Of all the wide country!"
The Sheriff had his leave ytake;
And went him on his way.
And ROBIN HOOD to green wood,
Upon a certain day,
And Little JOHN was whole of the arrow
That shot was in his knee;
And did him straight to ROBIN HOOD
Under the green-wood tree.
ROBIN HOOD walked in the forest
Under the leaves green,
The proud Sheriff of NOTTINGHAM,
Thereof he had great teen.
The Sheriff there failed of ROBIN HOOD
He might not have his prey.
Then he awaited this gentle Knight,
Both by night and by day.
Ever he awaited that gentle Knight,
Sir RICHARD AT THE LEE,
As he went on hawking by the river side
And let his hawks flee;
Took he there, this gentle Knight,
With men of armes strong,
And led him home to Nottingham ward
Ybound both foot and hand.
The Sheriff swore a full great oath,
By Him that died on rood,
He had lever than a hundred pound
That he had ROBIN HOOD.
This heard the Knight's wife
A fair Lady and free,
She set her on a good palfrey;
To green wood anon rode she.
When she came to the forest,
Under the green-wood tree,
Found she there ROBIN HOOD
And all his fair meiny.
"God [save] thee, good ROBIN!
And all thy company,
For our dear Lady's love
A boon, grant thou me!
Let thou never my wedded Lord
Shamely yslain be!
He is fast ybound to Nottingham ward.
For the love of thee!"
Anon then said good ROBIN,
To that Lady free:
"What man hath your Lord ytake?"
"For sooth, as I thee say,
He is not yet three miles
Passed on your way."
Up then started good ROBIN,
As a man that had been wood;
"Busk you, my merry young men,
For Him that died on a rood!
And he that this sorrow forsaketh,
By Him that died on a tree!
Shall he never in green wood be,
Nor longer dwell with me!"
Soon there were good bows ybent,
Mo than seven score;
Hedge ne ditch spare they none
That were them before.
"I make mine avow to God," said ROBIN,
"The Knight would I fain see;
And if I may him take,
Yquit then shall it be!"
And when they came to Nottingham
They walked in the street,
And with the proud Sheriff ywis
Soon gan they meet.
"Abide, thou proud Sheriff!" he said,
"Abide, and speak with me!
Of some tidings of our King
I would fain hear of thee!
This seven year, by dear-worthy God!
Ne yede I so fast on foot;
I make mine avow to God, thou proud Sheriff!
That it is not for thy good."
ROBIN bent a good bow,
An arrow he drew at his will;
He hit so the proud Sheriff,
Upon the ground he lay full still:
And or he might up arise,
On his feet to stand;
He smote off the Sheriff's head,
With his bright brand.
"Lie thou there, thou proud Sheriff!
Evil might thou thrive!
There might no man to thee trust,
The whiles thou wert alive!"
His men drew out their bright swords,
That were so sharp and keen,
And laid on the Sheriff's men
And drived them down bydene.
ROBIN started to that Knight,
And cut a two his bond;
And took him in his hand a bow,
And bade him by him stand.
"Leave thy horse thee behind,
And learn for to run!
Thou shalt with me to green wood
Through mire, moss, and fen!
Thou shalt with me to green wood
Without any leasing,
Till that I have got us grace
Of EDWARD, our comely King."

+The seventh fytte.+

The King came to Nottingham
With Knights in great array
For to take that gentle Knight
And ROBIN HOOD, if he may.
He asked men of that country
After ROBIN HOOD,
And after that gentle Knight
That was so bold and stout.
When they had told him the case,
Our King understood their tale
And seized in his hand
The Knight's land all.
All the pass of Lancashire
He went both far and near;
Till he came to Plom[p]ton Park
He failed many of his deer.
There our King was wont to see
Herdes many a one,
He could unneath find one deer
That bare any good horn.
The King was wondrous wroth withal,
And swore, "By the Trinity!
I would I had ROBIN HOOD!
With eyen I might him see!
And he that would smite off the Knight's head,
And bring it to me;
He shall have the Knight's lands
Sir RICHARD AT THE LEE.
I give it him with my charter,
And seal it [with] my hand,
To have and hold for evermore
In all merry England."
Then bespake a fair old Knight,
That was true in his fay,
"O my liege Lord the King,
One word I shall you say!
There is no man in this country
May have the Knight's lands
While ROBIN HOOD may ride or gone
And bear a bow in his hands,
That he ne shall lose his head,
That is the best ball in his hood:
Give it to no man, my Lord the King!
That ye will any good!"
Half a year dwelled our comely King
In Nottingham, and well more,
Could he not hear of ROBIN HOOD,
In what country that he were:
But always went good ROBIN
By halke and eke by hill,
And always slew the King's deer
And welt them at his will.
Then bespake a proud for'ster
That stood by our King's knee,
"If ye will see good ROBIN
Ye must do after me!
Take five of the best Knights
That be in your lead,
And walk down by yon Abbey
And get you monks' weed!
And I will be your leadsman
And lead you the way!
And or ye come to Nottingham,
Mine head then dare I lay!
That ye shall meet with good ROBIN,
In life if that he be:
Or ye come to Nottingham
With eyen ye shall him see!"
Full hastily our King was dight,
So were his Knightes five,
Everych of them in monks' weed,
And hasted them thither blithe.
Our King was great above his cowl,
A broad hat on his crown.
Right as he were Abbot like,
They rode up into the town.
Stiff boots our King had on,
For sooth as I you say,
He rode singing to green wood,
The convent was clothed in grey.
His mail horse and his great somers
Followed our King behind,
Till they came to green wood
A mile under the lynde.
There they met with good ROBIN
Standing on the way,
And so did many a bold archer,
For sooth as I you say.
ROBIN took the King's horse,
Hastily in that stead:
And said, "Sir Abbot! by your leave;
A while ye must abide!
We be yeoman of this forest,
Under the green-wood tree,
We live by our King's deer,
Under the green-wood tree;
And ye have churches and rents both,
And gold full great plenty:
Give us some of your spending,
For saint charity!"
Then bespake our comely King,
Anon then said he,
"I brought no more to green wood.
But forty pounds with me.
I have lain at Nottingham,
This fortnight with our King;
And spent I have full much good
On many a great Lording:
And I have but forty pounds,
No more than have I me.
But if I had a hundred pounds,
I would give it to thee!"
ROBIN took the forty pounds,
And departed it in two parts:
Halfendell he gave his merry men,
And bade them merry to be.
Full courteously ROBIN 'gan say,
"Sir, have this for your spending!
We shall meet another day."
"Grammercy!" then said our King.
"But well thee greeteth EDWARD our King,
And sent to thee his seal;
And biddeth thee come to Nottingham,
Both to meat and meal!"
He took out the broad targe
And soon he let him see.
ROBIN could his courtesy,
And set him on his knee.
"I love no man in all the world
So well as I do my King!
Welcome is my Lord's seal!
And monk for thy tiding,
Sir Abbot, for thy tidings,
To-day, thou shalt dine with me!
For the love of my King,
Under my trystel tree."
Forth he led our comely King
Full fair by the hand;
Many a deer there was slain,
And full fast dightand.
ROBIN took a full great horn,
And loud he 'gan blow,
Seven score of wight young men
Came ready on a row.
All they kneeled on their knee
Full fair before ROBIN.
The King said, himself until,
And swore, "By Saint AUSTIN!
Here is a wondrous seemly sight!
Methinketh, by God's pine!
His men are more at his bidding
Than my men be at mine."
Full hastily was their dinner ydight,
And thereto 'gan they gone;
They served our King with all their might,
Both ROBIN and Little JOHN.
Anon before our King was set
The fat venison,
The good white bread, the good red wine,
And thereto the fine ale brown.
"Make good cheer!" said ROBIN,
"Abbot, for charity!
And for this ilk tiding
Blessed might thou be!
Now shalt thou see what life we lead,
Or thou hence wend,
That thou may inform our King
When ye together lend."
Up they start all in haste,
Their bows were smartly bent:
Our King was never so sore aghast;
He wended to have been shent!
Two yards there were up set
Thereto 'gan they gang.
"By fifty paces," our King said,
"The marks were too long!"
On every side a rose garland,
They shot under the line.
"Whoso faileth of the rose garland," saith ROBIN,
"His tackle he shall tine,
And yield it to his Master,
Be it never so fine!
(For no man will I spare,
So drink I ale or wine!)
And bear a buffet on his head
Iwis right all bare."
And all that fell in ROBIN's lot,
He smote them wondrous sore.
Twice ROBIN shot about,
And ever he cleaved the wand;
And so did good "GILBERT,
With the good white hand."
Little JOHN and good SCATHELOCK,
For nothing would they spare.
When they failed of the garland
ROBIN smote them full sore.
At the last shot, that ROBIN shot
For all his friends' fare;
Yet he failed of the garland
Three fingers and more.
Then bespake good GILBERT,
And thus he 'gan say,
"Master," he said, "your tackle is lost,
Stand forth and take your pay!"
"If it be so," said ROBIN,
"That may no better be;
Sir Abbot, I deliver thee mine arrow!
I pray thee, Sir, serve thou me!"
"It falleth not for mine order," said our King,
"ROBIN, by thy leave,
For to smite no good yeoman,
For doubt I should him grieve."
"Smite on boldly," said ROBIN,
"I give thee large leave!"
Anon our King, with that word,
He folded up his sleeve,
And such a buffet he gave ROBIN,
To ground he yede full near.
"I make mine avow to God," said ROBIN,
"Thou art a stalwart frere!
There is pith in thine arm," said ROBIN,
"I trow thou canst well shoot."

Thus our King and ROBIN HOOD,
Together then they met.
ROBIN beheld our comely King,
Wistly in the face:
So did Sir RICHARD AT THE LEE,
And kneeled down in that place.
And so did all the wild outlaws,
When they see them kneel.
"My Lord, the King of England,
Now I know you well."
"Mercy, then, ROBIN," said our King,
"Under your trystel tree,
Of thy goodness and thy grace,
For my men and me!"
"Yes, for God!" said ROBIN,
"and also God me save!
I ask mercy, my Lord the King,
And for my men I crave!"
"Yes, for God!" then said our King,
"And thereto 'sent I me;
With that thou leave the green wood,
And all thy company;
And come home, Sir, to my Court,
And there dwell with me."
"I make mine avow to God!" said ROBIN,
"And right so shall it be,
I will come to your Court,
Your service for to see!
And bring with me, of my men,
Seven score and three.
But me like well your service,
I come again full soon;
And shoot at the dun deer
As I wont to done."

+The eighth fytte.+

"Hast thou any green cloth," said our King,
"That thou wilt sell now to me?"
"Yea, for God!" said ROBIN,
"Thirty yards and three."
"ROBIN," said our King,
"Now pray I thee!
Sell me some of that cloth
To me and my meiny."
"Yes, for God!" then said ROBIN,
"Or else I were a fool!
Another day ye will me clothe,
I trow against the yule."
The King cast off his cowl then,
A green garment he did on,
And every knight also, i-wis,
Another had full soon.
When they were clothed in Lincoln green,
They cast away their gray.
"Now we shall to Nottingham!
All thus," our King 'gan say.
Their bows bent, and forth they went,
Shooting all in-fere
Toward the town of Nottingham,
Outlaws as they were.
Our King and ROBIN rode together,
For sooth as I you say,
And they shot Pluck-buffet,
As they went by the way.
And many a buffet our King won
Of ROBIN HOOD that day;
And nothing spared good ROBIN
Our King in his pay.
"So God me help!" said our King,
"Thy game is nought to lere;
I should not get a shot of thee,
Though I shoot all this year!"

All the people of Nottingham,
They stood and beheld,
They saw nothing but mantles of green
That covered all the field:
Then every man to other 'gan say,
"I dread our King be slone;
Come ROBIN HOOD to the town, ywis
In life he left never one!"
Full hastily they began to flee,
Both yeomen and knaves,
And old wives that might evil go
They hipped on their staves.
The King laughed full fast,
And commanded them again:
When they see our comely King
I-wis they were full fain.
They eat and drank and made them glad,
And sang with notes high.
Then bespake our comely King
To Sir RICHARD AT THE LEE:
He gave him there his land again;
A good man he bade him be.
ROBIN thanked our comely King
And set him on his knee.

Had ROBIN dwelled in the King's Court
But twelve months and three;
That he had spent an hundred pound,
And all his men's fee.
In every place where ROBIN came,
Evermore he laid down,
Both for Knights and for Squires
To get him great renown.
By then the year was all agone
He had no man but twain,
Little JOHN and good SCATHELOCK
With him all for to gone.
ROBIN saw young men shoot
Full far upon a day.
"Alas," then said good ROBIN,
"My wealth is went away!
Sometime I was an archer good,
A stiff, and eke a strong,
I was counted the best archer
That was in merry England.
Alas," then said good ROBIN,
"Alas, and well a wo!
If I dwell longer with the King,
Sorrow will me slo!"
Forth then went ROBIN HOOD,
Till he came to our King:
"My Lord the King of England,
Grant me mine asking!
I made a chapel in Bernysdale,
That seemly is to see:
It is of MARY MAGDALENE;
And thereto would I be!
I might never in this seven night
No time to sleep ne wink;
Neither all these seven days
Neither eat ne drink:
Me longeth sore to Bernysdale.
I may not be therefro,
Barefoot and woolward I have hight
Thither for to go."
"If it be so," then said our King,
"It may no better be!
Seven nights I give thee leave,
No longer, to dwell from me."
"Grammercy, Lord!" then said ROBIN,
And set him on his knee.
He took his leave full courteously
To green wood then went he.

When he came to green wood
In a merry morning,
There he heard the notes small
Of birds, merry singing.
"It is far gone," said ROBIN,
"That I was last here.
Me list a little for to shoot
At the dun deer."
ROBIN slew a full great hart,
His horn then 'gan he blow,
That all the outlaws of that forest,
That horn could they know.
And gathered them together
In a little throw,
Seven score of wight young men
Came ready on a row,
And fair did off their hoods
And set them on their knee.
"Welcome!" they said, "our Master!
Under this green-wood tree!"
ROBIN dwelled in green wood
Twenty years and two;
For all dread of EDWARD our King
Again would he not go.
Yet was he beguiled i-wis
Through a wicked woman,
The Prioress of Kirkesley.
That nigh was of his kin,
For the love of a Knight,
Sir ROGER of Donkesley.
That was her own special
(Full evil might they thee!)
They took together their counsel
ROBIN HOOD for to slee,
And how they might best do that deed
His banes for to be.

Then bespake good ROBIN,
In place where as he stood,
"To-morrow, I must to Kirkesley
Craftily to be let blood!"
Sir ROGER of Doncaster,
By the Prioress he lay:
And there they betrayed good ROBIN HOOD
Through their false play.

CHRIST have mercy on his soul!
(That died on the rood)
For he was a good outlaw,
And did poor men much good.

+Explicit. King Edward and Robin Hood and Little John. Imprinted at London in Fleet street at the sign of the Sun. By Wynken de Worde.+

_English Carols._
[From a Manuscript at Balliol College, Oxford.]

=Written before 1500.=

=From a Balliol MS. of c. 1540=

_English Carols._
From a Manuscript at Balliol College, Oxford.

_Mater, ora filium,
ut post hoc exilium
nobis donet gaudium
beatorum omnium!_

Fair maiden, who is this bairn
That thou bearest in thine arm?
Sir it is a Kinges Son,
That in Heaven above doth wone.
_Mater, ora, etc._

Man to father he hath none,
But Himself God alone!
Of a maiden He would be born,
To save mankind that was forlorn!
_Mater, ora, etc._

The Kings brought him presents,
Gold, myrrh, and frankincense
To my Son full of might,
King of Kings and Lord of right!
_Mater, ora, etc._

Fair maiden pray for us
Unto thy Son, sweet Jesus,
That He will send us of His grace
In heaven on high to have a place!
_Mater, ora, etc._

_Ave Maria, now say we so,
Maid and mother were never no mo!_

Gaude Maria! Christes mother,
Mary mild of thee I mean;
Thou bare my Lord, thou bare my brother,
Thou bare a lovely child and clean!
Thou stoodest full still without blin
When in thy ear that errand was done so,
Tho gracious God thee light within.
_Gabrielis nuncio!_

Gaude Maria! [preva]lent with grace
When Jesus thy Son on thee was bore,
Full nigh thy breast thou gan Him brace,
He sucked, He sighed, He wept full sore.
Thou fed'st the flower that never shall fade
With maiden's milk, and sung thereto
Lullay, my sweet! I bare thee, babe!
_Cum pudoris lilio._

Gaude Maria! thy mirth was away,
When Christ on cross, thy Son, gan die,
Full dolefully on Good Friday,
That many a mother's son it sy.
His blood us brought from care and strife
His watery wound us washed from woe,
The third day from death to life
_Fulget resurrectio._

Gaude Maria! thou bird so bright,
Brighter than blossom that bloweth on hill!
Joyfull thou were to see that sight,
When the Apostles, so sweet of will,
All and some did shriek full shrill
When the fairest of shape went you fro,
From earth to heaven he styed full still,
_Motu quod fertur proprio._

Gaude Maria! thou rose of Ryse!
Maiden and mother both gentle and free,
Precious princess, peerless of price,
Thy bower is next the Trinity!
Thy Son as law asketh a right,
In body and soul thee took Him to,
Thou reignes with Him right as we find.
_In coeli palatio._

Now, blessed bird, we pray thee a boon,
Before thy Son for us thou fall,
And pray Him, as He was on the rood done
And for us drank eisell and gall,
That we may wone within that wall
Wherever is well without woe,
And grant that grace unto us all.
_In perenni gaudio._

_Of a rose, a lovely rose
And of a rose I sing a song!_

Hearken to me both old and young,
How a rose began to spring,
A fairer rose to my liking
_Sprung there never in Kinges land._

Six branches are on that rose beme,
They be both bright and sheen.
The rose is called Mary, heaven queen,
_Of her bosom a blossom sprung._

The first branch was of great might,
That sprung on Christmas night!
The star shone over Bethlehem bright,
_That men might see both broad and long._

The second branch was of great honour,
It was sent from heaven tower!
Blessed be that fair flower,
_Break it shall the fiendes bonds!_

The third branch wide spread,
There Mary lay in her bed,
The bright stream three Kings led
_To Bethlem there that branch they found._

The fourth branch sprung into hell,
The fiendes boast for to fell,
There might no soul therein dwell,
_Blessed be that time that branch gan spring!_

The fifth branch was fair in foot,
That sprung to heaven, top and root,
There to dwell and be our bote,
_And yet is seen in priestes hands._

The sixth branch by and by,
It is the five joys of mild Mary!
Now Christ save all this company,
_And send us good life and long!_

_Make me merry both more and less,
For now is the time of Christymas!_

Let no man come into this hall,
Groom, page, nor yet marshall,
But that some sport he bring withal!
_For now is the time of Christmas!_

If that he say, he can not sing,
Some other sport then let him bring!
That it may please at this feasting!
_For now is the time of Christmas!_

If he say he can naught do,
Then for my love ask him no mo!
But to the stocks then let him go!
_For now is the time of Christmas!_

_Can I not sing but Hoy!
The jolly shepherd made so much joy!_

The shepherd upon a hill he sat,
He had on him his tabard and his hat,
His tarbox, his pipe, and his flagat,
His name was called Jolly, Jolly Wat!
For he was a good herds-boy,
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
_Can I not sing but hoy._

The shepherd upon a hill was laid,
His dog to his girdle was tayd,
He had not slept but a little braid
But "gloria in excelsis" was to him said
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, etc._

The shepherd on a hill he stood,
Round about him his sheep they yode,
He put his hand under his hood,
He saw a star as red as blood.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
_Can I not sing, etc._

Now farewell Mall, and also Will,
For my love go ye all still,
Unto I come again you till,
And ever more will ring well thy bell.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, etc._

Now must I go there Christ was born,
Farewell! I come again to-morn,
Dog, keep well my sheep fro the corn!
And warn well Warroke when I blow my horn!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, etc._

When Wat to Bethlehem come was,
He sweat, he had gone faster than a pace,
He found Jesus in a simple place,
Between an ox and an ass.
Ut hoy!
For in [his] pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, etc._

The shepherd said anon right:
I will go see yon farly sight,
Where as the angel singeth on height,
And the star that shineth so bright!
Ut hoy!
For in [his] pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, etc._

Jesus, I offer to thee here my pipe,
My skirt, my tarbox and my scrip,
Home to my fellows now will I skip,
And also look unto my sheep!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, etc._

Now farewell, mine own herds-man Wat!
Yea, fore God, Lady, even so I hat!
Lull well Jesus in thy lap,
And farewell Joseph, with thy round cap!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, etc._

Now may I well both hope and sing,
For I have been at Christ's bearing,
Home to my fellows now will I fling,
Christ of heaven to His bliss us bring!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, etc._

_Now have good day, now have good day!
I am Christmas, and now I go my way!_

Here have I dwelt with more and less,
From Hallow-tide till Candlemas!
And now must I from you hence pass,
_Now have good day!_

I take my leave of King and Knight,
And Earl, Baron, and lady bright!
To wilderness I must me dight!
_Now have good day!_

And at the good lord of this hall,
I take my leave, and of guestes all!
Methinks I hear Lent doth call,
_Now have good day!_

And at every worthy officer,
Marshall, panter, and butler,
I take my leave as for this year,
_Now have good day!_

Another year I trust I shall
Make merry in this hall!
If rest and peace in England may fall!
_Now have good day!_

But often times I have heard say,
That he is loth to part away,
That often biddeth "have good day!"
_Now have good day!_

Now fare ye well all in-fere!
Now fare ye well for all this year,
Yet for my sake make ye good cheer!
_Now have good day!_

_Now sing we with angels
Gloria in excelsis!_

A babe is born to bliss us bring;
I heard a maid lullay and sing;
She said "dear Son, leave thy weeping,
Thy Father is the King of bliss."
_Now sing we, etc._

"Lullay," she said and sang also,
"Mine own dear Son, why art thou woe?
Have I not done as I should do?
Thy grievance tell me what it is."
_Now sing we, etc._

"Nay, dear mother, for thee weep I nought,
But for the woe that shall be wrought
To me, or I mankind have bought,
Was never sorrow like it, i-wis."
_Now sing we, etc._

"Peace, dear Son, tell me not so!
Thou art my child, I have no mo!
Should I see men mine own Son slo?
Alas, my dear Son, what means this?"
_Now sing we, etc._

"My hands, mother, that ye may see,
Shall be nailed unto a tree!
My feet also fast shall be;
Men shall weep that shall see this!"
_Now sing we, etc._

"Ah, dear Son, hard is my hap!
See my child that sucked my pap,
His hands, his feet that I did wrap
Be so nailed, that never did amiss!"
_Now sing we, etc._

"Ah, dear mother, yet shall a spear
My heart in sunder all to-tear;
No wonder if I carefull were,
And weep full sore to think on this!"
_Now sing we, etc._

"Ah, dear Son, shall I see this?
Thou art my child and I thy mother, i-wis!
When Gabriel called me, full of grace,
He told me nothing of this!"
_Now sing we, etc._

"Ah, dear mother, through my hair
To thrust in thorns they will not spare!
Alas, mother, I am full of care
That ye shall see this heaviness!"
_Now sing we, etc._

"Ah dear Son, leave thy weeping!
Thou bringst my heart in great mourning;
A careful song now may I sing,
This tidings hard to me it is!"
_Now sing we, etc._