Chapter XXI: Book V: 112. Robyn and Gandelyn (1)

I

I herde a carpyng[636] of a clerk,
Al at yone wodes ende,
Of gode Robyn and Gandeleyn;
Was ther non other thynge.
_Robynn lyth in grene wode bowndyn._

II

Stronge thevys wern tho chylderin none,
But bowmen gode and hende[637];
He[638] wentyn to wode to getyn hem fleych,
If God wold it hem sende.

III

Al day wentyn tho chylderin two,
And fleych fowndyn he non,
Til it were ageyn evyn[639];
The chylderin wold gon hom.

IV

Half an honderid of fat falyf der
He comyn ayon[640],
And alle he wern fayr and fat i-now,
But markyd was ther non:
‘Be dere God,’ seyde gode Robyn,
‘Hereof we shul have on[641].’

V

Robyn bent his joly bowe,
Ther in he set a flo[642];
The fattest der of alle
The herte he clef a to[643].

VI

He hadde not the der i-flawe[644],
Ne half out of the hyde,
There cam a schrewde[645] arwe out of the west,
That felde Robertes pryde.

VII

Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west,
Be every syde:
‘Hoo hat myn mayster slayin?
Ho hat don this dede?
Shal I never out of grene wode go
Til I se his sydis blede.’

VIII

Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west,
And sowt under the sunne;
He saw a lytil boy,
He clepyn[646] Wrennok of Donne.

IX

A good bowe in his hond,
A brod arwe ther-ine,
And fowre and twenti goode arwys,
Trusyd[647] in a thrumme[648]:
‘Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn,
Her-of thu shalt han summe!

X

‘Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn,
Her of thu gyst[649] plenté!’--
‘Ever on for an other,’ seyde Gandeleyn;
‘Mysaunter[650] have he shal fle.

XI

‘Qwer-at shal our marke be?’
Seyde Gandeleyn.--
‘Everyche at otheris herte,’
Seyde Wrennok ageyn.

XII

‘Ho[651] shal yeve the ferste schote?’
Seyde Gandeleyn.
‘And I shul yeve[652] the on be-forn,’
Seyde Wrennok ageyn.

XIII

Wrennok schette a ful good schote,
And he schet not to hye;
Throw the sanchothis[653] of his bryk[654];
It towcyhd neyther thye.

XIV

‘Now hast thu yovyn me on[655] be-forn,’
Al thus to Wrennok seyde he,
‘And throw the myyt of our lady
A bettere I shal yeve the.’

XV

Gandeleyn bent his goode bowe,
And set ther-in a flo;
He schet throw his grene certyl[656],
His herte he clef on too.

XVI

‘Now shall thu never yelpe[657], Wrennok,
At ale ne at wyn,
That thu hast slawe goode Robyn,
And his knave Gandeleyn.

XVII

‘Now shalt thu never yelpe, Wrennok,
At wyn ne at ale,
That thu hast slawe goode Robyn,
And Gandeleyn his knave.’
_Robyn lyth in grene wode bowndyn._

FOOTNOTES:

[636] carpyng = talking, tale.

[637] hende = gracious, courteous.

[638] He = they.

[639] ageyn evyn = towards evening.

[640] He comyn ayon = came over against them, in their path.

[641] on = one.

[642] flo = arrow.

[643] a to = in two.

[644] i-flawe = flayed.

[645] schrewde = sharp.

[646] He clepyn = whom they call.

[647] Trusyd = trussed, bound up.

[648] thrumme = end of a warp.

[649] gyst = gettest.

[650] Mysaunter = misadventure.

[651] Ho = who.

[652] yeve = give.

[653] sanchothis = fork.

[654] bryk = breeches.

[655] yovyn me on = given me one.

[656] certyl = kirtle.

[657] yelpe = brag.

_113. The Birth of Robin Hood_

I

O Willie’s large o’ limb and lith[658],
And come o’ high degree,
And he is gane to Earl Richard,
To serve for meat and fee.

II

Earl Richard had but ae daughter,
Fair as a lily-flower,
And they made up their love-contract
Like proper paramour.

III

It fell upon a simmer’s nicht,
Whan the leaves were fair and green,
That Willie met his gay ladie
Intil the wood alane.

IV

‘O narrow is my gown, Willie,
That wont to be sae wide;
And gane is a’ my fair colour,
That wont to be my pride.

V

‘But gin my father should get word
What’s past between us twa,
Before that he should eat or drink,
He’d hang you o’er that wa’.

VI

‘But ye’ll come to my bower, Willie,
Just as the sun gaes down,
And kep[659] me in your arms twa,
And latna me fa’ down.’

VII

O whan the sun was now gane down,
He’s doen him till her bower,
And there, by the lee licht o’ the moon,
Her window she lookit o’er.

VIII

Intill a robe o’ red scarlèt
She lap, fearless o’ harm;
And Willie was large o’ lith and limb,
And keppit her in his arm.

IX

And they’ve gane to the gude green-wood,
And, ere the night was deen,
She’s born to him a bonny young son,
Amang the leaves sae green.

X

Whan night was gane, and day was come,
And the sun began to peep,
Up and raise the Earl Richard
Out o’ his drowsy sleep.

XI

He’s ca’d upon his merry young men,
By ane, by twa, and by three:
‘O what’s come o’ my daughter dear,
That she’s nae come to me?

XII

‘I dreamt a dreary dream last night,
God grant it come to gude!
I dreamt I saw my daughter dear
Drown in the saut sea flood.

XIII

‘But gin my daughter be dead or sick,
Or yet be stown awa’,
I mak a vow, and I’ll keep it true,
I’ll hang ye ane and a’!’

XIV

They sought her back, they sought her fore,
They sought her up and down;
They got her in the gude green-wood,
Nursing her bonny young son.

XV

He took the bonny boy in his arms,
And kist him tenderlie;
Says, ‘Though I would your father hang,
Your mother’s dear to me.’

XVI

He kist him o’er and o’er again:
‘My grandson I thee claim,
And Robin Hood in gude green-wood,
And that shall be your name.’

XVII

And mony ane sings o’ grass, o’ grass,
And mony ane sings o’ corn,
And mony ane sings o’ Robin Hood
Kens little whare he was born.

XVIII

It wasna in the ha’, the ha’,
Nor in the painted bower;
But it was in the gude green-wood,
Amang the lily-flower.

FOOTNOTES:

[658] lith = joint.

[659] kep = catch.

_114. Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesley_

_Fytte the First_

I

Mery it was in the grene foreste
Amonge the levès grene,
Wheras men hunt east and west
Wyth bowes and arrowes kene;

II

To raise the dere out of theyr denne;
Suche sightes hath ofte bene sene;
As by thre yemen of the north countrey,
By them it is I meane.

III

The one of them hight Adam Bell,
The other Clym of the Clough[660],
The thyrd was Wyllyam of Cloudesley,
An archer good ynough.

IV

They were outlaw’d for venyson,
These yemen everych-one;
They swore them brethren upon a day,
To Englyshe-wood[661] for to gone.

V

Now lith[662] and lysten, gentylmen,
That of myrthes loveth to here:
Two of them were single men,
The third had a wedded fere[663].

VI

Wyllyam was the wedded man,
Muche more then was hys care:
He sayde to hys brethren upon a day,
To Carleile he would fare;

VII

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

VIII

‘For if ye go to Carleile, brother,
And from thys wylde wode wende,
If that the Justice may you take,
Your lyfe were at an ende.’--

IX

‘If that I come not to-morowe, brother,
By pryme[664] to you agayne,
Truste you then that I am taken,
Or else that I am slayne.’

X

He toke his leave of hys brethren two,
And to Carleile he is gon:
There he knock’d at his owne windòwe
Shortlye and anone.

XI

‘Wher be you, fayre Alyce,’ he sayd,
‘My wife and chyldren three?
Lyghtly let in thyne owne husbànde,
Wyllyam of Cloudesley.’--

XII

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

XIII

‘Now am I here,’ sayde Cloudesley,
‘I would that in I were.
Now fetche us meate and drynke ynoughe,
And let us make good chere.’

XIV

She fetchèd hym meate and drynke plentye,
Lyke a true wedded wyfe;
And pleasèd hym with that she had,
Whom she loved as her lyfe.

XV

There lay an old wyfe in that place,
A lytle besyde the fyre,
Whych Wyllyam had found[665] of charytye
More than seven yere.

XVI

Up she rose, and forth shee goes,
Evel mote shee speede therfore!
For shee had sett no foote on ground
In seven yere before.

XVII

She went unto the Justice Hall,
As fast as she could hye:
‘Thys night,’ shee sayd, ‘is come to town
Wyllyam of Cloudeslyè.’

XVIII

Thereof the Justice was full fayne[666],
And so was the Shirife also:
‘Thou shalt not trauaile hither, dame, for nought,
Thy meed thou shalt have or thou go.’

XIX

They gave to her a ryght good goune,
Of scarlate, [and of graine]:
She toke the gyft, and home she wente,
And couchèd her doune agayne.

XX

They raysed the towne of mery Carleile
In all the haste they can;
And came thronging to Wyllyam’s house,
As fast as they might gone.

XXI

There they besette that good yeman
Round about on every syde:
Wyllyam hearde great noyse of folkes,
That thither-ward fast hyed.

XXII

Alyce opened a backe wyndowe,
And lokèd all aboute;
She was ware of the Justice and Shirife bothe,
Wyth a full great route.

XXIII

‘Alas! treason!’ cryed Alyce,
‘Ever wo may thou be!
Goe into my chamber, my husband,’ she sayd,
‘Swete Wyllyam of Cloudesley.’

XXIV

He toke hys sword and hys buckler,
Hys bow and hys chyldren thre,
And wente into hys strongest chamber,
Where he thought surest to be.

XXV

Fayre Alyce, like a lover true,
Took a polaxe in her hande:
Said, ‘He shall dye that cometh in
Thys dore, whyle I may stand.’

XXVI

Cloudesley bente a wel good bowe,
That was of a trusty tre,
He smot the Justice on the brest,
That hys arowe brast in three.

XXVII

‘God’s curse on his harte,’ saide Wyllyam,
‘Thys day thy cote dyd on!
If it had ben no better then myne,
It had gone nere thy bone.’--

XXVIII

‘Yelde the Cloudesley,’ sayd the Justice,
‘And thy bowe and thy arrowes the fro.’--
‘God’s curse on hys hart,’ sayd fair Alyce,
‘That my husband councelleth so!’--

XXIX

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

XXX

They fyred the house in many a place,
The fyre flew up on hye:
‘Alas!’ then cryèd fayre Alyce,
‘I see we here shall dye.’

XXXI

Wyllyam openyd a backe wyndowe,
That was in hys chamber hie,
And there with sheetes he did let downe
His wyfe and children three.

XXXII

‘Have you here my treasure,’ sayde Wyllyam,
‘My wyfe and my chyldren thre:
For Christès love do them no harme,
But wreke you all on me.’

XXXIII

Wyllyam shot so wonderous well,
Tyll hys arrowes were all agoe,
And the fyre so fast upon hym fell,
That hys bowstryng brent in two.

XXXIV

The sparkles brent and fell upon
Good Wyllyam of Cloudesley:
Than was he a wofull man, and sayde,
‘Thys is a cowardes death to me.

XXXV

‘Leever had I,’ sayde Wyllyam,
‘With my sworde in the route to renne,
Then here among myne enemyes wode[667]
Thus cruelly to bren.’

XXXVI

He toke hys sword and hys buckler,
And among them all he ran,
Where the people were most in prece[668],
He smot downe many a man.

XXXVII

There myght no man abyde hys stroakes,
So fersly on them he ran:
Then they threw windowes and dores on him,
And so toke that good yemàn.

XXXVIII

There they hym bounde both hand and fote,
And in a deepe dungeon him cast:
‘Now Cloudesley,’ sayd the Justice,
‘Thou shalt be hangèd in hast.’

XXXIX

‘A payre of new gallowes,’ sayd the Sherife,
‘Now shal I for thee make;’
And the gates of Carleile shal be shutte:
No man shal come in therat.

XL

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

XLI

Early in the mornynge the Justice uprose,
To the gates first can he gone,
And commaunded to be shut full close
Lightilè everych-one.

XLII

Then went he to the markett place,
As fast as he coulde hye;
There a payre of new gallowes he set up
Besyde the pyllorye.

XLIII

A lytle boy among them asked,
What meanèd that gallow-tre?
They sayde to hange a good yemàn,
Called Wyllyam of Cloudeslèy.

XLIV

That lytle boye was the towne swyne-heard,
And kept fayre Alyce’s swyne;
Oft he had seene Wyllyam in the wodde,
And geven hym there to dyne.

XLV

He went out att a crevis of the wall,
And lightly to the woode dyd gone;
There met he with these wight yemen
Shortly and anone.

XLVI

‘Alas!’ then sayde the lytle boye,
‘Ye tary here all too longe;
Cloudeslee is taken, and dampned[669] to death,
And readye for to honge.’

XLVII

‘Alas!’ then sayd good Adam Bell,
‘That ever we saw thys daye!
He had better have tarryed with us,
So ofte as we dyd him praye.

XLVIII

‘He myght have dwelt in grene foreste,
Under the shadowes greene,
And have kepte both hym and us att reste,
Out of all trouble and teene[670].’

XLIX

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

L

‘Now go we hence,’ sayed these wight yeomen,
‘Tarry we no longer here;
We shall hym borowe[671] by God his grace,
Though we buy itt full dere.’

LI

To Carleile wente these bold yemen,
All in a mornyng of maye.--
Here is a Fyt of Cloudesley,
And another is for to saye.

_Fytte the Second_

LII

And when they came to mery Carleile,
In a fayre mornyng tyde,
They founde the gates shut them untyll
About on every syde.

LIII

‘Alas!’ then sayd good Adam Bell,
‘That ever we were made men!
These gates be shut so wonderly well,
We may not come therein.’

LIV

Then bespake him Clym of the Clough,
‘With a wyle we wyl us in bryng;
Let us say we be messengers,
Streyght comen from our King.’

LV

Adam said, ‘I have a letter written,
Now let us wysely werke,
We wyl saye we have the Kyngè’s seale;
I holde the porter no clerke.’

LVI

Then Adam Bell bete on the gates
With strokès great and stronge:
The porter herde such a noyse therat,
And to the gates he thronge[672].

LVII

‘Who is there now,’ sayd the porter,
‘That maketh all thys knockinge?’--
‘We be two messengers,’ quoth Clym of the Clough,
‘Be come ryght from our Kynge.’--

LVIII

‘We have a letter,’ sayd Adam Bell,
‘To the Justice we must it brynge;
Let us in our message to do,
That we were agayne to the Kynge.’--

LIX

‘Here commeth none in,’ sayd the porter,
‘By hym that dyed on a tre,
Tyll a false thefe be hangèd,
Called Wyllyam of Cloudesley.’

LX

Then spake the good yeman, Clym of the Clough,
And swore by Mary fre,
‘And if that we stande long wythout,
Lyke a thefe hangèd shalt thou be.

LXI

‘Lo! here we have got the Kynge’s seale:
What, lordane[673], art thou wode[674]?’
The porter wende[675] it had ben so,
And lyghtly dyd off hys hode.

LXII

‘Welcome is my lordes seale,’ he saide;
‘For that ye shall come in.’
He opened the gate right shortlye:
An evyl openyng for him!

LXIII

‘Now are we in,’ sayde Adam Bell,
‘Wherof we are full faine;
But Christ he knowes, that harowed hell,
How we shall come out agayne.’

LXIV

‘Had we the keys,’ said Clym of the Clough,
‘Ryght wel then shoulde we spede,
Then might we come out wel ynough
When we se tyme and nede.’

LXV

They callèd the porter to counsell,
And wrang his necke in two,
And caste hym in a depe dungeon,
And toke hys keys hym fro.

LXVI

‘Now am I porter,’ sayd Adam Bell,
‘Se, brother, the keys are here!
The worst porter to merry Carleile
That ye had thys hundred yere.

LXVII

‘And now wyll we our bowès bend,
Into the towne wyll we go,
For to delyver our dere brothèr,
That lyeth in care and wo.’

LXVIII

Then they bent theyr good yew bowes,
And lokèd theyr stringes were round[676],
The market-place of mery Carleile
They beset in that stound[677].

LXIX

And, as they lokèd them besyde,
A paire of new galowes they see,
And the Justice with a quest of swerers[678],
That judged Cloudesley hangèd to be.

LXX

And Cloudesley lay redy in a cart,
Fast bound both fote and hand;
And a stronge rope about hys necke,
All readye for to be hang’d.

LXXI

The Justice called to him a ladde,
Cloudesley’s clothes shold hee have,
To take the measure of that yeman,
Thereafter to make hys grave.

LXXII

‘I have sene as great mervaile,’ said Cloudesley,
‘As betweyne thys and pryme,
He that maketh a grave for mee,
Hymselfe may lye therin.’

LXXIII

‘Thou speakest proudlye,’ said the Justice,
‘I will thee hange with my hande.’
Full wel herd this his brethren two,
There styll as they dyd stande.

LXXIV

Then Cloudesley cast his eyen asyde
And saw hys brethren stande
At a corner of the market place,
With theyr good bowes bent in theyr hand.

LXXV

‘I se comfort,’ sayd Cloudesley;
‘Yet hope I well to fare;
If I might have my handes at wyll.
Ryght lytell wolde I care.’

LXXVI

Then bespake good Adam Bell
To Clym of the Clough so fre,
‘Brother, se you marke the Justyce wel;
Lo! yonder you may him se:

LXXVII

‘And at the Sheryfe shote I wyll
Strongly wyth an arrowe kene.’--
A better shote in mery Carleile
Thys seven yere was not sene.

LXXVIII

They loosed their arrowes both at once,
Of no man had they drede;
The one hyt the Justice, the other the Sheryfe,
That both theyr sides gan blede.

LXXIX

All men voyded[679], that them stode nye,
When the Justice fell to the grounde,
And the Sheryfe fell nye hym by;
Eyther had his deathes wounde.

LXXX

All the citezeyns fast gan flye,
They durst no longer abyde:
There lyghtly they losèd Cloudesley,
Where he with ropes lay tyde.

LXXXI

Wyllyam start to an officer of the towne,
Hys axe out hys hand he wronge,
On echè syde he smote them downe,
Hym thought he taryed to long.

LXXXII

Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren two,
‘Thys daye let us lyve and die,
If e’er you have nede, as I have now,
The same you shall finde by me.’

LXXXIII

They shot so well in that tyde
(Theyr stringes were of silke ful sure)
That they kept the stretes on every side;
That batayle did long endure.

LXXXIV

They fought together as brethren true,
Lyke hardy men and bolde,
Many a man to the ground they threw,
And many a herte made colde.

LXXXV

But when their arrowes were all gon,
Men presyd to them full fast,
They drew theyr swordès then anone,
And theyr bowès from them cast.

LXXXVI

They went lyghtlye on theyr way,
Wyth swordes and bucklers round;
By that it was mydd of the day,
They had made many a wound.

LXXXVII

There was many an out-horne[680] in Carleile blowen,
And the belles backwarde dyd ryng;
Many a woman sayde, Alas!
And many theyr handes dyd wryng.

LXXXVIII

The Mayre of Carleile forth com was,
Wyth hym a ful great route:
These thre yemen dred hym full sore,
For theyr lyvès stode in doute.

LXXXIX

The Mayre came armèd a full great pace,
With a polaxe in hys hande;
Many a strong man wyth him was,
There in that stowre[681] to stande.

XC

The Mayre smot at Cloudesley with his byll,
Hys buckler he brast in two,
Full many a yeman with great yll,
‘Alas! Treason!’ they cryed for wo.
‘Kepe well the gatès fast we wyll,
That these traytours therout not go.’

XCI

But al for nought was that they wrought,
For so fast they downe were layde,
Tyll they all thre, that so manfully fought
Were gotten without, at a braide[682].

XCII

‘Have here your keys,’ sayd Adam Bell,
‘Myne office I here forsake;
And yf you do by my counsell
A new porter do ye make.’

XCIII

He threw theyr keys there at theyr hedes,
And bad them well to thryve,
And all that letteth[683] any good yeman
To come and comfort his wyfe.

XCIV

Thus be these good yeman gon to the wode
As lyghtly as lefe on lynde[684];
They laughe and be mery in theyr mode,
Theyr enemyes were farre behynd.

XCV

When they came to Inglyswode,
Under theyr trysty tre,
There they found bowès full good,
And arrowès great plentye.

XCVI

‘So God me help,’ sayd Adam Bell,
And Clym of the Clough so fre,
‘I would we were in mery Carleile,
Before that fayre meynye[685].’

XCVII

They set them downe, and made good chere,
And eate and dranke full well.--
A second Fyt of the wightye yeomen:
Another I wyll you tell.

_Fytte the Third._

XCVIII

As they sat in Inglyswode,
Under theyr trysty tre[686],
They thought they herd a woman wepe,
But her they mought not se.

XCIX

Sore syghèd there fayre Alyce, and sayd
‘That ever I sawe thys day!
For nowe is my dere husband slayne:
Alas! and wel-a-waye!

C

‘Myght I have spoken wyth hys dere brethren,
Or with eyther of them twayne,
To show to them what him befell,
My hart were out of payne.’

CI

Cloudesley walked a lytle beside,
Looked under the grene wood lynde,
He was ware of his wife and chyldren three,
Full wo in herte and mynde.

CII

‘Welcome, wyfe,’ then sayde Wyllyam,
‘Under this trysty tre:
I had wende yesterday, by swete saynt John,
Thou sholdest me never have se.’--

CIII

‘Now well is me that ye be here,
My harte is out of wo.’--
‘Dame,’ he sayde, ‘be mery of chere,
And thanke my brethren two.’

CIV

‘Herof to speake,’ said Adam Bell,
‘I-wis it is no bote:
The meate, that we must supp withall,
It runneth yet fast on fote.’

CV

Then went they downe into a launde[687].
These noble archars all thre;
Eche of them slew a hart of greece[688].
The best they cold there se.

CVI

‘Have here the best, Alyce, my wyfe,’
Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudesley;
‘By cause ye so bouldly stode me by
When I was slayne full nye.’

CVII

Then wente they to theyr suppere
Wyth such meate as they had;
And thankèd God of theyr fortune:
They were both mery and glad.

CVIII

And when that they had suppèd well,
Certayne withouten lease[689],
Cloudesley sayd, ‘We wyll to our Kynge,
To get us a charter of peace.

CIX

‘Alyce shal be at sojournyng
In a nunnery here besyde;
My tow[690] sonnes shall wyth her go,
And there they shall abyde.

CX

‘My eldest son shall go wyth me;
For hym have I no care:
And he shall bring you worde agayn,
How that we do fare.’

CXI

Thus be these wightmen[691] to London gone
As fast as they myght hye,
Tyll they came to the Kynge’s pallàce,
Where they woulde needès be.

CXII

And whan they came to the Kynge’s courte,
Unto the pallace gate,
Of no man wold they aske no leave,
But boldly went in therat.

CXIII

They presyd prestly[692] into the hall,
Of no man had they dreade:
The porter came after, and dyd them call,
And with them began to chyde.

CXIV

The usher sayde, ‘Yemen, what wold ye have?
I pray you tell to me.
You myght thus make offycers shent[693]:
Good syrs, of whence be ye?’--

CXV

‘Syr, we be outlawes of the forest,
Certayne withouten lease;
And hether we be come to the Kyng,
To get us a charter of peace.’

CXVI

And whan they came before our Kynge,
As it was the lawe of the lande,
They knelèd downe without lettyng[694],
And eche held up his hand.

CXVII

They sayd, ‘Lord, we beseche you here
That ye wyll graunt us grace;
For we have slayne your fat falowe dere
In many a sondry place.’

CXVIII

‘What be your names,’ then said our Kynge,
‘Anone that you tell me?’--
They sayd, ‘Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough,
And Wyllyam of Cloudesley.’--

CXIX

‘Be ye those theves,’ then sayd our Kynge,
‘That men have tolde of to me?
Here to God I make an avowe,
Ye shal be hangèd al thre.

CXX

‘Ye shal be dead without mercỳ,
As I am Kynge of this lande.’
He commanded his officers everich-one,
Fast on them to lay hande.

CXXI

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

CXXII

‘But, good lorde, we beseche you then,
That yee graunt us grace,
Insomuche as we be to you comen,
Or else we may fro you passe,

CXXIII

‘With such weapons as we have here,
Tyll we be out of your place;
And yf we lyve this hundred yere,
We wyll aske you no grace.’

CXXIV

‘Ye speake proudly,’ sayd the Kynge;
‘Ye shall be hangèd all thre.’
‘That were great pitye,’ then sayd the Quene,
‘If any grace myght be.

CXXV

‘My lorde, whan I came fyrst into this lande
To be your wedded wyfe,
The fyrst boone that I wold aske,
Ye would graunt it me belyfe[695]:

CXXVI

‘And I asked you never none tyll now;
Therefore, lorde, graunt it me!’--
‘Now aske it, madam,’ sayd the Kynge,
‘And graunted it shal be.’--

CXXVII

‘Then, good my lord, I you beseche,
These yemen graunt ye me.’--
‘Madame, ye myght have asked a boone
That shuld have been worth them thre.

CXXVIII

‘Ye myght have askèd towres and townes,
Parkes and forestes plentye.’--
‘None soe pleasant to my pay[696],’ shee sayd;
‘Nor none so lefe[697] to me.’--

CXXIX

‘Madame, sith it is your desyre,
Your askyng graunted shal be;
But I had lever have geven you
Good market-townès thre.’

CXXX

The Quenè was a glad woman,
And sayde, ‘Lord, gramarcy!
I dare and undertake for them
That true men shal they be.

CXXXI

‘But good lord, speke som mery word,
That comfort they may se.’--
‘I graunt you grace,’ then sayd our Kynge;
‘Washe, felows, and to meate go ye.’

CXXXII

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

CXXXIII

And whan they came before the Kynge,
They knelt downe on theyr kne;
And sayd, ‘Lord, your officers grete you well,
Of Carleile in the north countrè.’

CXXXIV

‘How fareth my Justice,’ sayd the Kynge,
‘And my Sheryfe also?’--
‘Syr, they be slayne, without leasynge,
And many an officer mo.’--

CXXXV

‘Who hath them slayne,’ sayd the Kynge,
‘Anone that thou tell me.’--
‘Adam Bell, and Clym of the Clough,
And Wyllyam of Cloudesley.’--

CXXXVI

‘Alas for rewth!’ then sayd our Kynge:
‘My herte is wonderous sore;
I had lever than a thousande pounde,
I had knowne of thys before;

CXXXVII

‘For I have y-graunted them grace,
And that forthynketh[698] me:
But had I knowne all thys before,
They had been hangèd all thre.’

CXXXVIII

The Kyng hee opened the letter anone,
Himselfe he red it thro,
And founde how these outlàwes had slain
Thre hundred men and mo:

CXXXIX

Fyrst the Justice, and the Sheryfe,
And the Mayre of Carleile towne;
Of all the constables and catchipolles
Alyve were scant left one:

CXL

The baylyes, and the bedyls both,
And the sergeauntes of the law,
And forty fosters of the fe[699],
These outlawes had y-slaw;

CXLI

And broke his parks, and slayne his dere;
Of all they chose the best;
So perèlous out-lawes as they were
Walked not by easte nor west.

CXLII

When the Kynge this letter had red,
In hys herte he syghèd sore:
‘Take up the tables,’ anone he bad,
‘For I may eat no more.’

CXLIII

The Kynge callèd hys best archars
To the buttes[700] wyth hym to go:
‘I wyll se these felowes shote,’ he sayd,
‘In the north have wrought this wo.’

CXLIV

The Kynge’s bowmen buske them[701] blyve[702],
And the Quene’s archers also;
So dyd these thre wyght yemen;
With them they thought to go.

CXLV

There twyse or thryse they shote about
For to assay theyr hande;
There was no shote these yemen shot,
That any prycke[703] myght stand.

CXLVI

Then spake Wyllyam of Cloudesley:
‘By God that for me dyed,
I hold hym never no good archar,
That shoteth at buttes so wyde.’--

CXLVII

‘At what a butte now wold ye shote,
I pray thee tell to me?’--
‘Nay, syr,’ he sayd, ‘at such a butte
As men use in my countrè.’

CXLVIII

Wyllyam wente into a fyeld,
And with him his two brethren:
There they set up two hasell roddes
Twenty score paces betwene.

CXLIX

‘I hold him an archar,’ said Cloudesley,
‘That yonder wande cleveth in two,’--
‘Here is none suche,’ sayd the Kynge,
‘Nor no man can so do.’

CL

‘I shall assaye, syr,’ sayd Cloudesley,
‘Or that I farther go.’
Cloudesley with a bearing arowe[704]
Clave the wand in two.

CLI

‘Thou art the best archer,’ then said the Kynge,
‘Forsothe that ever I se.’--
‘And yet for your love,’ sayd Wyllyam,
‘I wyll do more maystery.

CLII

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

CLIII

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

CLIV

‘Now hastè the,’ then sayd the Kynge,
‘By hym that dyed on a tre,
But yf thou do not, as thou hest sayde,
Hangèd shall thou be.

CLV

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

CLVI

‘That I have promised,’ said Wyllyam,
‘That I wyll never forsake.’
And there even before the Kynge
In the earth he drove a stake:

CLVII

And bound thereto his eldest sonne,
And bad hym stand styll thereat;
And turned the childè’s face him fro,
Because he should not start.

CLVIII

An apple upon his head he set,
And then his bowe he bent:
Syxe score paces they were out-met[705],
And thether Cloudesley went

CLIX

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

CLX

He prayèd the people, that was there,
That they all styll wold stand,
‘For he that shoteth for such a wager,
Behoveth a stedfast hand.’

CLXI

Muche people prayèd for Cloudesley,
That his lyfe savèd myght be,
And whan he made hym redy to shote,
There was many weeping e’e.

CLXII

But Cloudesley clefte the apple in two,
That many a man it se;
‘Over God’s forbode,’ sayde the Kynge,
‘That thou shold shote at me!’

CLXIII

‘I geve thee eightene pence a day,
And my bowè shalt thou bere,
And over all the north countrè
I make the chyfe rydère[706].’

CLXIV

‘And I thyrtene pence,’ said the Quene,
‘By God, and by my fay;
Come feche thy payment when thou wylt,
No man shall say the nay.

CLXV

‘Wyllyam, I make the a gentleman
Of clothyng, and of fe:
And thy brethren yemen of my chambre,
For they are so semely to se.

CLXVI

‘Your sonne, for he is tendre of age,
Of my wyne-seller he shall be;
And when he commeth to mans estate,
Better avaunced shall he be.

CLXVII

‘And, Wyllyam, bring me your wife,’ said the Quene,
‘Me longeth her sore to se:
She shall be my chefe gentlewoman,
To governe my nurserye.’

CLXVIII

The yemen thanked them all courteously,
And sayd, ‘To Rome wyl we wend,
Of all the synnes, that we have done,
To be assoyld at his hand.’

CLXIX

So forth be gone these good yemèn,
As fast as they might hye;
And after came and dwell’d with the Kynge,
And dyed good men all thre.

CLXX

Thus endeth the lyves of these good yemèn;
God send them eternall blysse;
And all, that with a hand-bowe shoteth:
That of heven they may never mysse!

FOOTNOTES:

[660] Clym of the Clough = Clement of the Cliff.

[661] Englyshe-wood = Inglewood, near Carlisle.

[662] lith = hearken.

[663] fere = mate.

[664] pryme = six in the morning.

[665] found = provided for.

[666] fayne = rejoiced.

[667] wode = wild, savage.

[668] prece = press, crowd.

[669] dampned = condemned.

[670] teene = sorrow.

[671] borowe = ransom, redeem.

[672] thronge = hastened.

[673] lordane = dolt.

[674] wode = mad.

[675] wende = weened, thought.

[676] round = i. e. not frayed.

[677] stound = time.

[678] swerers = swearers, jurymen.

[679] voyded = gave room, ran off.

[680] out-horne = a horn blown to call citizens to help the law.

[681] stowre = press of fight.

[682] braide = sudden spring.

[683] letteth = hindereth.

[684] lynde = linden.

[685] meynye = company.

[686] trysty tre = trysting tree.

[687] launde = forest-park.

[688] of greece = of grease, fat.

[689] lease = lying.

[690] tow = two.

[691] wightmen = stout fellows.

[692] presyd prestly = pressed quickly.

[693] shent = ruined.

[694] lettyng = delay.

[695] belyfe = straightway.

[696] pay = satisfaction.

[697] lefe = dear.

[698] forthynketh = repenteth.

[699] fosters of the fe = foresters of the lordship.

[700] buttes = targets.

[701] buske them = busked, made them ready.

[702] blyve = belyfe _supra_, straightway.

[703] prycke = mark.

[704] bearyng arowe = a long arrow, tapered to carry far.

[705] out-met = measured out.

[706] rydère = ranger.

_115. A Little Geste of Robin Hood and his Meiny[707]_

_The First Fytte_

How Robin Hood befriended a poor Knight, Sir Richard at the Lee

I

Lithe[708] and listen, Gentlemen,
That be of free-born blood:
I shall you tell of a good yeoman,
His name was Robin Hood.

II

Robin was a proud outlaw,
The while he walked on ground;
So courteous an outlaw as he was one
Was never none y-found.

III

Robin stood in Barnèsdale[709],
And leaned him to a tree;
And by him stood Little John,
A good yeoman was he.

IV

And also did good Scathèlock,
And Much, the miller’s son;
There was none inch of his body,
But it was worth a groom[710].

V

Then bespake him Little John
All unto Robin Hood:
‘Master, an ye would dine betimes
It would do you much good.’

VI

Then bespake him good Robin:
‘To dine I have no lest[711],
Till that I have some bold baron,
Or some uncouth[712] guest,

VII

‘Till that I have some bold baron
That may pay for the best,
Or else some knight, or some squièr
That dwelleth here by West.’

VIII

A good mannèr then had Robin;
In land where that he were[713],
Every day ere he would dine
Three masses would he hear:

IX

The one in worship of the Father,
The other of the Holy Ghost,
The third was of Our dear Lady
That he loved alder-most[714].

X

Robin loved our dear Lady;
For doubt[715] of deadly sin
Would he no company do harm
That woman was therein.

XI

‘Master,’ then said Little John,
‘An we our board shall spread,
Tell us whither we shall go,
And what life we shall lead;

XII

‘Where we shall take, where we shall leave,
Where we shall abide behind,
Where we shall rob, where we shall reave[716],
Where we shall beat and bind.’

XIII

‘Thereof no force[717],’ then said Robin;
‘We shall do well enow;
But look ye do no husband[718] harm
That tilleth with his plough.

XIV

‘No more ye shall no good yeoman
That walketh by green-wood shaw[719];
Nor yet no knight nor no squièr
That will be a good fellaw.

XV

‘These bishops and these archbishops,
Ye shall them beat and bind;
The High Sheriff of Nottingham,
Him hold ye in your mind.’

XVI

‘This word shall be held,’ said Little John,
‘This lesson we shall lere[720];
It is far days[721]; God send us a guest,
That we were at our dinnere.’

XVII

‘Take thy good bow,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Let Much wend with thee,
And so shall William Scathèlock,
And no man abide with me;

XVIII

‘And walk ye up unto the Sayles[722],
And so to Watling Street[723],
And wait after some uncouth guest;
Upchance[724] ye may them meet.

XIX

‘Be he an earl, or any baron,
Abbot, or any knight,
Bring ye him to lodge with me;
His dinner shall be dight[725].’

XX

Then went they up unto the Sayles,
Those yeoman allè three;
They lookèd east, they lookèd west,
They mightè no man see.

XXI

But as they looked in Barnèsdale,
By a dernè[726] street[727],
Then came a knight a-riding up;
Full soon they gan him meet.

XXII

All dreary then was his semblaunt[728],
And little was his pride;
His one foot in the stirrup stood,
The other waved beside.

XXIII

His hood hang’d in his eyen two;
He rode in simple array;
A sorrier man than he was one
Rode never in summer day.

XXIV

Little John was full courteous,
And set him[729] on his knee;
‘Welcome be ye, gentle Knight,
Welcome are ye to me.

XXV

‘Welcome be thou to greenè wood.
Hendè[730] Knight and free;
My master hath abiden you fasting
Sir, all these hourès three.’

XXVI

‘Who is thy master?’ said the Knight.
John said, ‘Robin Hood.’
‘He is a good yeoman,’ said the Knight,
‘Of him I have heard much good.

XXVII

‘I grant,’ he said, ‘with you to wend,
My brethren, all in fere[731];
My purpose was to have dined to-day
At Blyth[732] of Doncastere.’

XXVIII

Forth then went this gentle Knight,
With a careful cheer[733];
The tears out of his eyen ran,
And fell down by his leer[734].

XXIX

They brought him to the lodgè door;
When Robin gan him see,
Full courteously did off his hood,
And set him on his knee.

XXX

‘Welcome, Sir Knight,’ then said Robin,
‘Welcome art thou to me;
I have abiden you fasting, sir,
All these hourès three.’

XXXI

Then answerèd the gentle Knight,
With wordès fair and free;
‘God thee savè, good Robin,
And all thy fair meinèe.’

XXXII

They washèd together and wipèd both,
And set to their dinnere;
Bread and wine they had enough,
And numbles[735] of the deer.

XXXIII

Swans and pheasants they had full good,
And fowls of the rivere;
There failèd none so little a bird
That ever was bred on brere[736].

XXXIV

‘Do gladly, Sir Knight,’ said Robin.
‘Gramerci, sir,’ said he;
‘Such a dinner had I not
Of all these weekès three.

XXXV

‘If I come again, Robin,
Here by this country,
As good a dinner I shall thee make
As thou hast made to me.’

XXXVI

‘Gramerci, Knight,’ said Robin Hood;
‘My dinner when I have,
I was never so greedy, by dear-worth[737] God,
My dinner for to crave.

XXXVII

‘But pray ere ye wend,’ said Robin Hood;
‘Me thinketh it is good right;
It was never the manner, by dear-worth God,
A yeoman to pay for a knight.’

XXXVIII

‘I have nought in my coffers,’ said the Knight,
‘That I may proffer for shame:’
‘Little John, go look,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Nor let[738] not for no blame.’

XXXIX

‘Tell me truth,’ said Robin Hood,
‘So God have part of thee[739].’--
‘I have no more than ten shillings,
So God have part of me.’

XL

‘If thou hast no more,’ said Robin,
‘I will not one pennỳ;
And if thou need of any more,
More shall I lendè thee.

XLI

‘Go now forth, Little John,
The truthè tell thou me;
If there be no more but ten shillings,
No penny that I see.’

XLII

Little John his mantle spread
Full fair upon the ground,
And there he found in the Knight’s coffer
But even half a pound.

XLIII

Little John let it lie full still,
And went to his master low;
‘What tidings, John?’ said Robin Hood.--
‘Sir, the Knight is true enow.’

XLIV

‘Fill of the best wine,’ said Robin,
‘The Knight shall begin;
Muchè wonder thinketh me
Thy clothing is so thin.

XLV

‘Tell me one word,’ said Robin,
‘And counsel[740] shall it be;
I trow thou wert made a knight of force[741],
Or else of yeomanry[742].

XLVI

‘Or else thou hast been a sorry husband[743],
And lived in stroke and strife;
An okerer[744], or a lecher[745],
With wrong hast led thy life.’

XLVII

‘I am none of thosè,’ said the Knight,
‘By Him that madè me;
An hundred winter here before
Mine anc’tors knights have be.

XLVIII

‘But oft it hath befal’n, Robin,
A man hath been disgrate[746];
But God, that sitteth in heaven above,
May amend his state.

XLIX

‘Within these two years, Robin,’ he said,
‘My neighbours well it kenn’d[747],
Four hundred pounds of good monèy
Full well then might I spend,

L

‘Now have I no good,’ said the Knight,
‘God hath shapen such an end,
But my children and my wife,
Till God it may amend.’

LI

‘In what mannèr,’ then said Robin,
‘Hast thou lorn[748] thy richess?’
‘For my great folly,’ he said,
‘And for my kindèness.

LII

‘I had a son forsooth, Robin,
That should have been mine heir;
When he was twenty winter old
In field would joust full fair.

LIII

‘He slew a knight of Lancashire,
And a squièr bold;
For to save him in his right
My goods are set and sold.

LIV

‘My lands are set to wed[749], Robin,
Until a certain day,
To a rich Abbot here beside
Of St. Mary’s Abbèy.’

LV

‘What is the sum?’ said Robin Hood;
‘The truthè tell thou me;’
‘Sir,’ he said, ‘four hundred pound;
The Abbot told[750] it me.’

LVI

‘An thou lose thy land,’ said Robin Hood,
‘What shall fall of[751] thee?’--
‘Hastily I will me busk[752]
Over the saltè sea,

LVII

‘And see where Christ was quick and dead,
On the mount of Calvary;
Farewell, friend, and have good day;
It may no better be.’

LVIII

Tears fell out of his eyen two;
He would have gone his way;
‘Farewell, friends, and have good day,
I have no more to pay.’

LIX

‘Where be thy friends,’ said Robin Hood.
‘Sir, never one will me know;
While I was rich enough at home
Great boast then would they blow.

LX

‘And now they run away from me,
As beastès in a raw[753];
They takè no more heed of me
Than they me never saw.’

LXI

For ruth then weptè Little John,
Scathèlock and Much in fere;
‘Fill of the best wine,’ said Robin,
‘For here is a simple cheer.

LXII

‘Hast thou any friends,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Thy borrows[754] that will be?’
‘I havè none,’ then said the Knight,
‘But Him that died on tree!’

LXIII

‘Do way thy japès[755],’ said Robin,
‘Thereof will I right none;
Ween’st thou I would have God to[756] borrow,
Peter, Paul or John?

LXIV

‘Nay, by Him that madè me,
And shope[757] both sun and moon,
Find better borrow,’ said Robin,
‘Or money get’st thou none.’

LXV

‘I have none other,’ said the Knight,
‘The soothè for to say,
But if[758] it be Our dear Lady;
She fail’d never ere this day.’

LXVI

‘By dear-worth God,’ said Robin Hood,
‘To seek all England thorough,
Yet found I never to my pay
A muchè better borrow.

LXVII

‘Come now forth, Little John,
And go to my treasurỳ,
And bringè me four hundred pound,
And look well told it be.’

LXVIII

Forth then wentè Little John,
And Scathèlock went before;
He told him out four hundred pound
By eight and twenty score.

LXIX

‘Is this well told?’ said Little Much;
John said, ‘What grieveth thee?
It is alms to help a gentle knight
That is fal’n in poverty.’

LXX

‘Master,’ then said Little John,
‘His clothing is full thin;
Ye must give the Knight a livery
To lap[759] his body therein.

LXXI

‘For ye have scarlet and green, master,
And many a rich array;
There is no merchant in merry England
So rich, I dare well say.’--

LXXII

‘Take him three yards of each coloùr,
And look well mete[760] it be.’--
Little John took no measùre
But his bowè-tree.

LXXIII

And at every handful that he met[761]
He leapèd o’er feet three;
‘What devilkin’s draper,’ said Little Much,
‘Thinkest thou for to be?’

LXXIV

Scathèlock stood full still and laughed,
And said, ‘He meteth right.
John may give him good measure,
For it costeth him but light.’

LXXV

‘Master,’ then said Little John
All unto Robin Hood,
‘Ye must give the Knight a horse
To lead home all this good.’

LXXVI

‘Take him a grey courser,’ said Robin,
‘And a saddle new;
He is Our Lady’s messenger;
God grant that he be true!’

LXXVII

‘And a good palfrey[762],’ said Little Much,
‘To maintain him in his right;’
‘And a pair of boots,’ said Scathèlock,
‘For he is a gentle knight.’

LXXVIII

‘What shalt thou give him, Little John?’--
‘Sir, a pair of gilt spurs clean,
To pray for all this company;
God bring him out of teen[763].’

LXXIX

‘When shall my day be,’ said the Knight,
‘Sir, an your willè be?’--
‘This day twelve moneth,’ said Robin,
‘Under this green-wood tree.

LXXX

‘It were great shamè,’ said Robin,
‘A knight alone to ride,
Withoutè squire, yeoman, or page,
To walkè by his side.

LXXXI

‘I shall thee lend Little John, my man,
For he shall be thy knave[764];
In a yeoman’s stead he may thee stand,
If thou great needè have.’

_The Second Fytte_

How the Knight paid his Creditors against their will

LXXXII

Now is the Knight gone on his way;
This game him thought full good;
When he looked on Barnèsdale,
He blessèd Robin Hood.

LXXXIII

And when he thought on Barnèsdale,
On Scathelock, Much, and John,
He blessèd them for a company
The best he ever in come[765].

LXXXIV

Then spake that gentle Knight,
To Little John gan he say,
‘To-morrow I must to York town
To Saint Mary’s Abbèy;

LXXXV

‘And to the Abbot of that place
Four hundred pound must pay;
But[766] I be there upon this night
My land is lost for aye.’

LXXXVI

The Abbot said to his Convènt,
Where he stood on ground,
‘This day twelve moneth came a knight,
And borrowed four hundred pound.

LXXXVII

‘He borrowèd four hundred pound
Upon his land and fee[767];
But he come this ilkè[768] day
Disherited shall he be.’

LXXXVIII

‘It is full early,’ said the Prior,
‘The day is not yet far gone;
I had liever pay an hundred pound,
And lay it down anon.

LXXXIX

‘The Knight is far beyond the sea,
In England is his right,
And suffereth hunger and cold
And many a sorry night.

XC

‘It were great pity,’ said the Prior,
‘So to have his land;
An ye be so light of your conscience,
Ye do him muchè shand[769].’

XCI

‘Thou art ever in my beard[770],’ said the Abbot,
‘By God and Saint Richard!’
With that came in a fat-headed monk,
The Highè Cellarèr.

XCII

‘He is dead or hangèd,’ said the monk,
‘By Him that bought me dear,
And we shall have to spend in this place
Four hundred pound by year.’

XCIII

The Abbot and the High Cellarer
Started forth full bold,
The High Justice of Engèland
The Abbot there did hold.

XCIV

The High Justice and many mo
Had taken into their hand
Wholly all the Knightès debt,
To put that Knight to shand.

XCV

They deemèd[771] the Knight wonder sore[772],
The Abbot and his meinèe:
‘But he come this ilkè day,
Disherited shall he be.’

XCVI

‘He will not come yet,’ said the Justice,
‘I dare well undertake.’
But in sorry timè for them all
The Knight came to the gate.

XCVII

Then bespake that gentle Knight
Until[773] his meinèe:
‘Now put on your simple weeds
That ye brought from the sea.’

XCVIII

They putten on their simple weeds,
They came to the gates anon;
The Porter was ready himself,
And welcomed them every one.

XCIX

‘Welcome, Sir Knight,’ said the Porter,
‘My lord to meat is he,
And so is many a gentle man,
For the love of thee.’

C

The Porter swore a full great oath:
‘By Him that madè me,
Here be the bestè corsèd[774] horse
That ever yet I see.

CI

‘Lead them into the stable,’ he said,
‘That easèd might they be’;
‘They shall not come therein,’ said the Knight,
‘By Him that died on tree.’

CII

Lordès were to meat y-set
In that Abbot’s hall;
The Knight went forth and kneelèd down
And salued[775] them great and small.

CIII

‘Do gladly, Sir Abbot,’ said the Knight,
‘I am come to hold my day.’
The first word that the Abbot spake,
‘Hast thou brought me my pay?’

CIV

‘Not one penny,’ said the Knight,
‘By Him that makèd me’:
‘Thou art a shrewd[776] debtor,’ said the Abbot;
‘Sir Justice, drink to me!’

CV

‘What doest thou here,’ said the Abbot,
‘But[777] thou hadst brought thy pay?’
‘Alack is me,’ then said the Knight,
‘To pray of a longer day!’

CVI

‘Thy day is broke,’ said the Justice,
‘Land gettest thou none.’--
‘Now, good Sir Justice, be my friend,
And fend[778] me of my fone[779]!’

CVII

‘I am held with the Abbot,’ said the Justice,
‘Both with cloth and fee.’--
‘Now, good Sir Sheriff, be my friend!’
‘Nay, nay, not I,’ said he.

CVIII

‘Now, good Sir Abbot, be my friend,
For thy courtesy,
And hold my landès in thy hand
Till I have made thee gree[780]

CIX

‘And I will be thy true servànt
And truly servè thee,
Till ye have four hundred pound
Of money good and free.’

CX

The Abbot sware a full great oath,
‘By Him that died on tree,
Get thy landès where thou mayst,
For thou gettest none of me!’

CXI

‘By dear-worth God,’ then said the Knight,
‘That all this worldè wrought,
But I have[781] my land again,
Full dear it shall be bought.

CXII

‘God, that was of a maiden born,
Give us well to speed!
For it is good to assay a friend
Ere that a man have need.’

CXIII

The Abbot loathly on him gan look,
And villainously him gan call;
‘Out,’ he said, ‘thou falsè Knight,
Speed thee out of my hall!’

CXIV

‘Thou liest,’ said the gentle Knight;
‘Abbot, in thy hall;
Falsè Knight was I never,
By God that made us all.’

CXV

Up then stood that gentle Knight,
To the Abbot said he,
‘To suffer a knight to kneel so long,
Thou canst[782] no courtesy.

CXVI

‘In joustès and in tournaments
Full far then have I be,
And put myself as far in press[783]
As any that ever I see.’

CXVII

‘What will ye give more,’ said the Justice,
‘An the Knight shall make a release[784]?
And ellès[785] dare I safely swear
Ye hold never your land in peace.’

CXVIII

‘An hundred pound,’ said the Abbot;
The Justice said, ‘Give him two;’
‘Nay, by God,’ said the Knight,
‘Ye get not my land so.

CXIX

‘Though ye would give a thousand more,
Yet were ye never the nigher;
Shall there never be mine heir
Abbot, Justice, nor Friar.’

CXX

He started to a board anon,
Till a table round,
And here he shook out of a bag
Even four hundred pound.

CXXI

‘Have here thy gold, Sir Abbot,’ he said,
‘Which that thou lentest me;
Hadst thou been courteous at my coming,
I would have rewarded thee.’

CXXII

The Abbot sat still, and ate no more,
For all his royal fare;
He cast his head on his shouldèr,
And fast began to stare.

CXXIII

‘Take[786] me my gold again.’ he said,
‘Sir Justice, that I took thee.’--
‘Not a penny,’ said the Justice,
‘By Him that died on tree.’--

CXXIV

‘Sir Abbot, and ye men of law,
Now have I held my day;
Now shall I have my land again,
For aught that you can say.’

CXXV

The Knight out started of the door,
Away was all his care,
And on he put his good clothing.
The other he left there.

CXXVI

He went him forth full merry singing,
As men have told in tale;
His Lady met him at the gate,
At home in Uttersdale.

CXXVII

‘Welcome, my lord,’ said his Lady;
‘Sir, lost is all your good?’--
‘Be merry, damè,’ said the Knight,
‘And pray for Robin Hood,

CXXVIII

‘That ever his soulè be in bliss:
He help me out of teen;
Ne had not been[787] his kindèness,
Beggars had we been.

CXXIX

‘The Abbot and I accorded be,
He is servèd of his pay;
The goodè yeoman lent it me,
As I came by the way.’

CXXX

This Knight then dwellèd fair at home,
The soothè for to say,
Till he had got four hundred pound,
All ready for to pay.

CXXXI

He purvey’d him an hundred bows,
The stringès well y-dight,
An hundred sheaf of arrows good,
The heads burnish’d full bright;

CXXXII

And every arrow an ellè long,
With peacock well y-dight[788],
Y-notchèd all with white silvèr;
It was a seemly sight.

CXXXIII