| 1 |
Lythe and listin, gentilmen,
That be of frebore blode;
I shall you tel of a gode yeman,
His name was Robyn Hode. |
| 2 |
Robyn was a prude outlaw,
[Whyles he walked on grounde;
So curteyse an outlawe] as he was one
Was never non founde. |
| 3 |
Robyn stode in Bernesdale,
And lenyd hym to a tre;
And bi hym stode Litell Johnn,
A gode yeman was he. |
| 4 |
And alsoo dyd gode Scarlok,
And Much, the miller's son;
There was none ynch of his bodi
But it was worth a grome. |
| 5 |
Than bespake Lytell Johnn
All vntoo Robyn Hode:
Maister, and ye wolde dyne betyme
It wolde doo you moche gode. |
| 6 |
Than bespake hym gode Robyn:
To dyne haue I noo lust,
Till that I haue som bolde baron,
Or som vnkouth gest. |
| 7 |
. . . . . . .
That may pay for the best,
Or som knyght or [som] squyer,
That dwelleth here bi west. |
| 8 |
A gode maner than had Robyn;
In londe where that he were,
Euery day or he wold dyne
Thre messis wolde he here. |
| 9 |
The one in the worship of the Fader,
And another of the Holy Gost,
The thirde of Our der Lady,
That he loued allther moste. |
| 10 |
Robyn loued Oure der Lady;
For dout of dydly synne,
Wolde he neuer do compani harme
That any woman was in. |
| 11 |
'Maistar,' than sayde Lytil Johnn,
'And we our borde shal sprede,
Tell vs wheder that we shal go,
And what life that we shall lede. |
| 12 |
'Where we shall take, where we shall leue,
Where we shall abide behynde;
Where we shall robbe, where we shal reue,
Where we shal bete and bynde.' |
| 13 |
'Therof no force,' than sayde Robyn;
'We shall do well inowe;
But loke ye do no husbonde harme,
That tilleth with his ploughe. |
| 14 |
'No more ye shall no gode yeman
That walketh by gren -wode shawe;
Ne no knyght ne no squyer
That wol be a gode felawe. |
| 15 |
'These bisshoppes and these archebishoppes,
Ye shall them bete and bynde;
The hy sherif of Notyingham,
Hym holde ye in your mynde.' |
| 16 |
'This worde shalbe holde,' sayde Lytell Johnn,
'And this lesson we shall lere;
It is fer dayes ; God sende vs a gest,
That we were at oure dynere!' |
| 17 |
'Take thy gode bowe in thy honde,' sayde Rob[yn];
'Late Much wende with the;
And so shal Willyam Scarlo[k],
And no man abyde with me. |
| 18 |
'And walke vp to the Saylis,
And so to Watlingr Stret[e],
And wayte after some vnkuth gest,
Vp chaunce ye may them mete. |
| 19 |
'Be he erle, or ani baron,
Abbot, or ani knyght,
Bringhe hym to lodge to me;
His dyner shall be dight.' |
| 20 |
They wente vp to the Saylis,
These yeman all thre;
They loked est, they loke[d] weest;
They myght no man see. |
| 21 |
But as they loked in to Bernysdale,
Bi a dern strete,
Than came a knyght ridinghe;
Full sone they gan hym mete. |
| 22 |
All dreri was his semblaunce,
And lytell was his pryde;
His one fote in the styrop stode,
That othere wauyd beside. |
| 23 |
His hode hanged in his iyn two;
He rode in symple aray;
A soriar man than he was one
Rode neuer in somer day. |
| 24 |
Litell Johnn was full curteyes,
And sette hym on his kne:
'Welcom be ye, gentyll knyght,
Welcom ar ye to me. |
| 25 |
'Welcom be thou to gren wode,
Hend knyght and fre;
My maister hath abiden you fastinge,
Syr, al these our s thre.' |
| 26 |
'Who is thy maister?' sayde the knyght;
Johnn sayde, Robyn Hode;
'He is [a] gode yoman,' sayde the knyght,
'Of hym haue I herde moche gode. |
| 27 |
'I graunte,' he sayde, 'with you to wende,
My bretherne, all in fere;
My purpos was to haue dyned to day
At Blith or Dancastere.' |
| 28 |
Furth than went this gentyl knight,
With a carefull chere;
The teris oute of his iyen ran,
And fell downe by his lere. |
| 29 |
They brought hym to the lodg -dore;
Whan Robyn hym gan see,
Full curtesly dyd of his hode
And sette hym on his knee. |
| 30 |
'Welcome, sir knight,' than sayde Robyn,
'Welcome art thou to me;
I haue abyden you fastinge, sir,
All these ouris thre.' |
| 31 |
Than answered the gentyll knight,
With word s fayre and fre;
God the saue, goode Robyn,
And all thy fayre meyn . |
| 32 |
They wasshed togeder and wyped bothe,
And sette to theyr dynere;
Brede and wyne they had right ynoughe,
And noumbles of the dere. |
| 33 |
Swannes and fessauntes they had full gode,
And foules of the ryuere;
There fayled none so litell a birde
That euer was bred on bryre. |
| 34 |
'Do gladly, sir knight,' sayde Robyn;
'Gramarcy, sir,' sayde he;
'Suche a dinere had I nat
Of all these wekys thre. |
| 35 |
'If I come ageyne, Robyn,
Here by thys contr ,
As gode a dyner I shall the make
As that thou haest made to me.' |
| 36 |
'Gramarcy, knyght,' sayde Robyn;
'My dyner whan that I it haue,
I was neuer so gredy, bi dere worthy God,
My dyner for to craue. |
| 37 |
'But pay or ye wende,' sayde Robyn;
'Me thynketh it is gode ryght;
It was neuer the maner, by dere worthi God,
A yoman to pay for a knyhht.' |
| 38 |
'I haue nought in my coffers,' saide the knyght,
'That I may profer for shame:'
'Litell Johnn, go loke,' sayde Robyn,
'Ne let nat for no blame. |
| 39 |
'Tel me truth,' than saide Robyn,
'So God haue parte of the:'
'I haue no more but ten shelynges,' sayde the knyght,
'So God haue parte of me.' |
| 40 |
If thou hast no more,' sayde Robyn,
'I woll nat one peny;
And yf thou haue nede of any more,
More shall I lend the. |
| 41 |
'Go nowe furth, Littell Johnn,
The truth tell thou me;
If there be no more but ten shelinges,
No peny that I se.' |
| 42 |
Lyttell Johnn sprede downe hys mantell
Full fayre vpon the grounde,
And there he fonde in the knyght s cofer
But euen halfe [a] pounde. |
| 43 |
Littell Johnn let it lye full styll,
And went to hys maysteer [full] lowe;
'What tidyng s, Johnn?' sayde Robyn;
'Sir, the knyght is true inowe.' |
| 44 |
'Fyll of the best wine,' sayde Robyn,
'The knyght shall begynne;
Moche wonder thinketh me
Thy clot[h]ynge is so thin[n]e. |
| 45 |
'Tell me [one] worde,' sayde Robyn,
'And counsel shal it be;
I trowe thou warte made a knyght of force,
Or ellys of yemanry. |
| 46 |
'Or ellys thou hast bene a sori husbande,
And lyued in stroke and stryfe;
An okerer, or ellis a lechoure,' sayde Robyn,
'Wyth wronge hast led thy lyfe.' |
| 47 |
'I am none of those,' sayde the knyght,
'By God that mad me;
An hundred wynter here before
Myn auncetres knyghtes haue be. |
| 48 |
'But oft it hath befal, Robyn,
A man hath be disgrate;
But God that sitteth in heuen aboue
May amende his state. |
| 49 |
'Withyn this two yere, Robyne,' he sayde,
'My neghbours well it knowe,
Foure hundred pounde of gode money
Ful well than myght I spende. |
| 50 |
'Nowe haue I no gode,' saide the knyght,
'God hath shaped such an ende,
But my chyldren and my wyfe,
Tyll God yt may amende.' |
| 51 |
'In what maner,' than sayde Robyn,
'Hast thou lorne thy rychesse?'
'For my great foly,' he sayde,
'And for my kynd[ ]nesse. |
| 52 |
'I hade a sone, forsoth, Robyn,
That shulde hau[e] ben myn ayre,
Whanne he was twenty wynter olde,
In felde wolde iust full fayre. |
| 53 |
'He slewe a knyght of Lancaster,
And a squyer bolde;
For to saue hym in his ryght
My godes both sette and solde. |
| 54 |
'My londes both sette to wedde, Robyn,
Vntyll a certayn day,
To a ryche abbot here besyde
Of Seynt Mari Abbey.' |
| 55 |
'What is the som?' sayde Robyn;
'Trouth than tell thou me;'
'Sir,' he sayde, 'Foure hundred pounde;
The abbot told it to me.' |
| 56 |
'Nowe and thou lese thy lond,' sayde Robyn,
'What woll fall of the?'
'Hastely I wol me buske,' sayd the knyght,
'Ouer the salt see, |
| 57 |
'And se w[h]ere Criste was quyke and dede,
On the mount of Caluer ;
Fare wel, frende, and haue gode day;
It may no better be.' |
| 58 |
Teris fell out of hys iyen two;
He wolde haue gone hys way:
'Farewel, frende, and haue gode day;
I ne haue no more to pay.' |
| 59 |
'Where be thy frend s?' sayde Robyn:
'Syr, neuer one wol me knowe;
While I was ryche ynowe at home
Great boste than wolde they blowe. |
| 60 |
'And nowe they renne away fro me,
As bestis on a rowe;
They take no more hede of me
Thanne they had me neuer sawe.' |
| 61 |
For ruthe thanne wept Litell Johnn,
Scarlok and Muche in fere;
'Fyl of the best wyne,' sayde Robyn,
'For here is a symple chere. |
| 62 |
'Hast thou any frende,' sayde Robyn,
'Thy borowe that wold be?'
'I haue none,' than sayde the knyght,
'But God that dyed on tree.' |
| 63 |
'Do away thy iapis,' than sayde Robyn,
'Thereof wol I right none;
Wenest thou I wolde haue God to borowe,
Peter, Poule, or Johnn? |
| 64 |
'Nay, by hym that me made,
And shope both sonne and mone,
Fynde me a better borowe,' sayde Robyn,
'Or money getest thou none.' |
| 65 |
'I haue none other,' sayde the knyght,
'The sothe for to say,
But yf yt be Our der Lady;
She fayled me neuer or thys day.' |
| 66 |
'By dere worthy God,' sayde Robyn,
'To seche all Englonde thorowe,
Yet fonde I neuer to my pay
A moche better borowe. |
| 67 |
'Come nowe furth, Litell Johnn,
And go to my tresour ,
And bringe me foure hundered pound,
And loke well tolde it be.' |
| 68 |
Furth than went Litell Johnn,
And Scarlok went before;
He tolde oute foure hundred pounde
By eight and twenty score. |
| 69 |
'Is thys well tolde?' sayde [litell] Much;
Johnn sayde, 'What gre[ue]th the?
It is almus to helpe a gentyll knyght,
That is fal in pouert . |
| 70 |
'Master,' than sayde Lityll John,
'His clothinge is full thynne;
Ye must gyue the knight a lyueray,
To lappe his body therin. |
| 71 |
'For ye haue scarlet and grene, mayster,
And man[y] a riche aray;
Ther is no marchaunt in mery Englond
So ryche, I dare well say.' |
| 72 |
'Take hym thre yerdes of euery colour,
And loke well mete that it be;'
Lytell Johnn toke none other mesure
But his bow -tree. |
| 73 |
And at euery handfull that he met
He lep d foot s three;
'What deuyll s drapar,' sayid litell Muche,
'Thynkest thou for to be?' |
| 74 |
Scarlok stode full stil and loughe,
And sayd, By God Almyght,
Johnn may gyue hym gode mesure,
For it costeth hym but lyght. |
| 75 |
'Mayster,' than said Litell Johnn
To gentill Robyn Hode,
'Ye must giue the knig[h]t a hors,
To lede home this gode.' |
| 76 |
'Take hym a gray coursar,' sayde Robyn,
'And a saydle newe;
He is Oure Ladye's messangere;
God graunt that he be true.' |
| 77 |
'And a gode palfray,' sayde lytell Much,
'To mayntene hym in his right;'
'And a peyre of bot s,' sayde Scarlock,
'For he is a gentyll knight.' |
| 78 |
'What shalt thou gyue hym, Litell John?' said Robyn;
'Sir, a peyre of gilt sporis clene,
To pray for all this company;
God bringe hym out of tene.' |
| 79 |
'Whan shal mi day be,' said the knight,
'Sir, and your wyll be?'
'This day twelue moneth,' saide Robyn,
'Vnder this gren -wode tre. |
| 80 |
'It were greate sham ,' sayde Robyn,
'A knight alone to ryde,
Without squyre, yoman, or page,
To walk by his syde. |
| 81 |
'I shall the lende Litell John, my man,
For he shalbe thy knaue;
In a yema[n]'s stede he may the stande,
If thou greate ned haue.' |
The seconde fytte |
| 82 |
Now is the knight gone on his way;
This game hym thought full gode;
Whanne he loked on Bernesdale
He blessyd Robyn Hode. |
| 83 |
And whanne he thought on Bernysdale,
On Scarlok, Much, and Johnn,
He blyssyd them for the best company
That euer he in come. |
| 84 |
Then spake that gentyll knyght,
To Lytel Johan gan he saye,
To-morrowe I must to Yorke toune,
To Saynt Mary abbay. |
| 85 |
And to the abbot of that place
Foure hondred pounde I must pay;
And but I be there vpon this nyght
My londe is lost for ay. |
| 86 |
The abbot sayd to his couent,
There he stode on grounde,
This day twelfe moneth came there a knyght
And borowed foure hondred pounde. |
| 87 |
[He borowed foure hondred pounde,]
Upon all his lond fre;
But he come this ylk day
Dysheryte shall he be. |
| 88 |
'It is full erely,' sayd the pryoure,
'The day is not yet ferre gone;
I had leuer to pay an hondred pounde,
And lay downe anone. |
| 89 |
'The knyght is ferre beyonde the see,
In Englonde is his ryght,
And suffreth honger and colde,
And many a sory nyght. |
| 90 |
'It were grete pyt ,' said the pryoure,
'So to haue his londe;
And ye be so lyght of your consyence,
Ye do to hym moch wronge.' |
| 91 |
'Thou arte euer in my berde,' sayd the abbot,
'By God and Saynt Rycharde;'
With that cam in a fat-heded monke,
The heygh selerer. |
| 92 |
'He is dede or hanged,' sayd the monke,
'By God that bought me dere,
And we shall haue to spende in this place
Foure hondred pounde by yere.' |
| 93 |
The abbot and the hy selerer
Stert forthe full bolde,
The [hye] iustyce of Englonde
The abbot there dyde holde. |
| 94 |
The hy iustyce and many mo
Had take in to they[r] honde
Holy all the knyght s det,
To put that knyght to wronge. |
| 95 |
They demed the knyght wonder sore,
The abbot and his meyn :
'But he come this ylk day
Dysheryte shall he be.' |
| 96 |
'He wyll not come yet,' sayd the iustyce,
'Idare well vndertake;'
But in sorowe tym for them all
The knyght came to the gate. |
| 97 |
Than bespake that gentyll knyght
Untyll his meyn :
Now put on your symple wedes
That ye brought fro the see. |
| 98 |
[They put on their symple wedes,]
They came to the gates anone;
The porter was redy hymselfe,
And welcomed them euerychone. |
| 99 |
'Welcome, syr knyght,' sayd the porter;
'My lorde to mete is he,
And so is many a gentyll man,
For the loue of the.' |
| 100 |
The porter swore a full grete othe,
'By God that mad me,
Here be the best coresed hors
That euer yet sawe I me. |
| 101 |
'Lede them in to the stable,' he sayd,
'That eased myght they be;'
'They shall not come therin,' sayd the knyght,
'By God that dyed on a tre.' |
| 102 |
Lord s were to mete isette
In that abbotes hall;
The knyght went forth and kneled downe,
And salued them grete and small. |
| 103 |
'Do gladly, syr abbot,' sayd the knyght,
'I am come to holde my day:'
The fyrst word the abbot spake,
'Hast thou brought my pay?' |
| 104 |
'Not one peny,' sayd the knyght,
'By God that maked me;'
'Thou art a shrewed dettour,' sayd the abbot;
'Syr iustyce, drynke to me. |
| 105 |
'What doost thou here,' sayd the abbot,
'But thou haddest brought thy pay?'
'For God,' than sayd the knyght,
'To pray of a lenger daye.' |
| 106 |
'Thy daye is broke,' sayd the iustyce,
'Londe getest thou none:'
'Now, good syr iustyce, be my frende,
And fende me of my fone!' |
| 107 |
'I am holde with the abbot,' sayd the iustyce,
'Both with cloth and fee :'
'Now, good syr sheryf, be my frende!'
'Nay, for God,' sayd he. |
| 108 |
'Now, good syr abbot, be my frende,
For thy curteys ,
And holde my lond s in thy honde
Tyll I haue made the gree! |
| 109 |
'And I wyll be thy true seruaunte,
And trewely seru the,
Tyl ye haue foure hondred pounde
Of money good and free.' |
| 110 |
The abbot sware a full grete othe,
'By God that dyed on a tree,
Get the londe where thou may,
For thou getest none of me.' |
| 111 |
'By dere worthy God,' then sayd the knyght,
'That all this world wrought,
But I haue my londe agayne,
Full dere it shall be bought. |
| 112 |
'God, that was of a mayden borne,
Leue vs well to spede!
For it is good to assay a frende
Or that a man haue nede.' |
| 113 |
The abbot lothely on hym gan loke,
And vylaynesly hym gan call;
'Out,' he sayd, 'Thou fals knyght,
Spede the out of my hall!' |
| 114 |
'Thou lyest,' then sayd the gentyll knyght,
'Abbot, in thy hal;
False knyght was I neuer,
By God that made vs all.' |
| 115 |
Vp then stode that gentyll knyght,
To the abbot sayd he,
To suffre a knyght to knele so longe,
Thou canst no curteysye. |
| 116 |
In ioust s and in tournement
Full ferre than haue I be,
And put my selfe as ferre in prees
As ony that euer I se. |
| 117 |
'What wyll ye gyue more,' sayd the iustice,
'And the knyght shall make a releyse?
And elles dare I safly swere
Ye holde neuer your londe in pees.' |
| 118 |
'An hondred pounde,' sayd the abbot;
The justice sayd, Gyue hym two;
'Nay, be God,' sayd the knyght,
'Yit gete ye it not so. |
| 119 |
'Though ye wolde gyue a thousand more,
Yet were ye neuer the nere;
Shall there neuer be myn heyre
Abbot, iustice, ne frere.' |
| 120 |
He stert hym to a borde anone,
Tyll a table rounde,
And there he shoke oute of a bagge
Euen four hundred pound. |
| 121 |
'Haue here thi golde, sir abbot,' saide the knight,
'Which that thou lentest me;
Had thou ben curtes at my comynge,
Rewarded shuldest thou haue be.' |
| 122 |
The abbot sat styll, and ete no more,
For all his ryall fare;
He cast his hede on his shulder,
And fast began to stare. |
| 123 |
'Take me my golde agayne,' saide the abbot,
'Sir iustice, that I toke the:'
'Not a peni,' said the iustice,
'Bi Go[d, that dy]ed on tree.' |
| 124 |
'Sir [abbot, and ye me]n of lawe,
Now haue I holde my daye;
Now shall I haue my londe agayne,
For ought that you can saye.' |
| 125 |
The knyght stert out of the dore,
Awaye was all his care,
And on he put his good clothynge,
The other he lefte there. |
| 126 |
He wente hym forth full mery syngynge,
As men haue tolde in tale;
His lady met hym at the gate,
At home in Verysdale. |
| 127 |
'Welcome, my lorde,' sayd his lady;
'Syr, lost is all your good?'
'Be mery, dame,' sayd the knyght,
'And pray for Robyn Hode, |
| 128 |
'That euer his soul be in blysse:
He holpe me out of tene;
Ne had be his kynd nesse,
Beggers had we bene. |
| 129 |
'The abbot and I accorded ben,
He is serued of his pay;
The god yoman lent it me,
As I cam by the way.' |
| 130 |
This knight than dwelled fayre at home,
The sothe for to saye,
Tyll he had gete four hundred pound,
Al redy for to pay. |
| 131 |
He purueyed him an hundred bowes,
The stryng s well ydyght,
An hundred shefe of arow s gode,
The hedys burneshed full bryght; |
| 132 |
And euery arowe an ell longe,
With pecok wel idyght,
Inocked all with whyte siluer;
It was a semely syght. |
| 133 |
He purueyed hym an [hondreth men],
Well harness[ed in that stede],
And hym selfe in that same sete,
And clothed in whyte and rede. |
| 134 |
He bare a launsgay in his honde,
And a man ledde his male,
And reden with a lyght songe
Vnto Bernysdale. |
| 135 |
But as he went at a brydge ther was a wrastelyng,
And there taryed was he,
And there was all the best yemen
Of all the west countree. |
| 136 |
A full fayre game there was vp set,
A whyte bulle vp i-pyght,
A grete courser, with sadle and brydil,
With golde burnyssht full bryght. |
| 137 |
A payre of gloues, a rede golde rynge,
A pype of wyne, in fay;
What man that bereth hym best i-wys
The pryce shall bere away. |
| 138 |
There was a yoman in that place,
And best worthy was he,
And for he was ferre and frembde bested,
Slayne he shulde haue be. |
| 139 |
The knight had ruthe of this yoman,
In plac where he stode;
He sayde that yoman shulde haue no harme,
For loue of Robyn Hode. |
| 140 |
The knyght presed in to the place,
An hundreth folowed hym [free],
With bow s bent and arow s sharpe,
For to shende that companye. |
| 141 |
They shulderd all and made hym rome,
To wete what he wolde say;
He toke the yeman bi the hande,
And gaue hym al the play . |
| 142 |
He gaue hym fyue marke for his wyne,
There it lay on the molde,
And bad it shulde be set a broche,
Drynk who so wolde. |
| 143 |
Thus longe taried this gentyll knyght,
Tyll that play was done;
So longe abode Robyn fastinge,
Thre hour s after the none. |
The thirde fytte |
| 144 |
Lyth and lystyn, gentilmen,
All that nowe be here;
Of Litell Johnn, that was the knight s man,
Goode myrth ye shall here. |
| 145 |
It was vpon a mery day
That yonge men wolde go shete;
Lytell Johnn fet his bowe anone,
And sayde he wolde them mete. |
| 146 |
Thre tymes Litell Johnn shet aboute,
And alway he slet the wande;
The proud sherif of Notingham
By the mark s can stande. |
| 147 |
The sherif swore a full greate othe:
'By hym that dyede on a tre,
This man is the best arsch re
That euer yet sawe I [me.] |
| 148 |
'Say me nowe, wight yonge man,
What is nowe thy name?
In what countre were thou borne,
And where is thy wonynge wane?' |
| 149 |
'In Holdernes, sir, I was borne,
I-wys al of my dame;
Men cal me Reynolde Gren lef
Whan I am at home.' |
| 150 |
'Sey me, Reyno[l]de Gren lefe,
Wolde thou dwell with me?
And euery yere I woll the gyue
Twenty marke to thy fee.' |
| 151 |
'I haue a maister,' sayde Litell Johnn,
'A curteys knight is he;
May ye leu gete of hym,
The better may it be.' |
| 152 |
The sherif gate Litell John
Twelue moneth s of the knight;
Therfore he gaue him right anone
A gode hors and a wight. |
| 153 |
Nowe is Litell John the sherif s man,
God lende vs well to spede!
But alwey thought Lytell John
To quyte hym wele his mede. |
| 154 |
'Nowe so God me help ,' sayde Litell John,
'And by my true leutye,
I shall be the worst seruaunt to hym
That euer yet had he.' |
| 155 |
fell vpon a Wednesday
The sherif on huntynge was gone,
And Litel Iohn lay in his bed,
And was foriete at home. |
| 156 |
Therfore he was fastinge
Til it was past the none;
'Gode sir stuarde, I pray to the,
Gyue me my dynere,' saide Litell John. |
| 157 |
'It is longe for Gren lefe
Fastinge thus for to be;
Therfor I pray the, sir stuarde,
Mi dyner gif me.' |
| 158 |
'Shalt thou neuer ete ne drynke,' saide the stuarde,
'Tyll my lorde be come to towne:'
'I make myn auowe to God,' saide Litell John,
'I had leuer to crake thy crowne.' |
| 159 |
The boteler was full vncurteys,
There he stode on flore;
He start to the botery
And shet fast the dore. |
| 160 |
Lytell Johnn gaue the boteler suche a tap
His backe went nere in two;
Though he liued an hundred ier,
The wors shuld he go. |
| 161 |
He sporned the dore with his fote;
It went open wel and fyne;
And there he made large lyueray,
Bothe of ale and of wyne. |
| 162 |
'Sith ye wol nat dyne,' sayde Litell John,
'I shall gyue you to drinke;
And though ye lyue an hundred wynter,
On Lytel Johnn ye shall thinke.' |
| 163 |
Litell John ete, and Litel John drank,
The whil that he wolde;
The sherife had in his kechyn a coke,
A stoute man and a bolde. |
| 164 |
'I make myn auowe to God,' saide the coke,
'Thou arte a shrewde hynde
In ani hous for to dwel,
For to ask thus to dyne.' |
| 165 |
And there he lent Litell John
God[ ] strokis thre;
'I make myn auowe to God,' sayde Lytell John,
'These strokis lyked well me. |
| 166 |
'Thou arte a bolde man and hardy,
And so thinketh me;
And or I pas fro this place
Assayed better shalt thou be.' |
| 167 |
Lytell Johnn drew a ful gode sworde,
The coke toke another in hande;
They thought no thynge for to fle,
But stifly for to stande. |
| 168 |
There they faught sore togedere
Two myl way and well more;
Myght neyther other harme done,
The mountnaunce of an owre. |
| 169 |
'I make myn auowe to God,' sayde Litell Johnn,
And by my true lewt ,
Thou art one of the best sworde-men
That euer yit sawe I [me.] |
| 170 |
'Cowdest thou shote as well in a bowe,
To gren wode thou shuldest with me,
And two times in the yere thy clothinge
Chaunged shuld be; |
| 171 |
'And euery yere of Robyn Hode
Twenty merke to thy fe:'
'Put vp thy swerde,' saide the coke,
'And felow s woll we be.' |
| 172 |
Thanne he fet to Lytell Johnn
The nowmbles of a do,
Gode brede, and full gode wyne;
They ete and drank theretoo. |
| 173 |
And when they had dronkyn well,
Theyre trouth s togeder they plight
That they wo[l]de be with Robyn
That ylk sam nyght. |
| 174 |
They dyd them to the tresoure-hows,
As fast as they myght gone;
The lokk s, that were of full gode stele,
They brake them euerichone. |
| 175 |
They toke away the siluer vessell,
And all that they mig[h]t get;
Pecis, masars, ne sponis,
Wolde thei not forget. |
| 176 |
Also [they] toke the god pens,
Thre hundred pounde and more,
And did them st[r]eyte to Robyn Hode,
Under the gren wode hore. |
| 177 |
'God the saue, my der mayster,
And Criste the saue and se!'
And thanne sayde Robyn to Litell Johnn,
Welcome myght thou be. |
| 178 |
'Also be that fayre yeman
Thou bryngest there with the;
What tydyng s fro Noty[n]gham?
Lytill Johnn, tell thou me.' |
| 179 |
'Well the gretith the proud sheryf,
And sende[th] the here by me
His coke and his siluer vessell,
And thre hundred pounde and thre.' |
| 180 |
'I make myne avowe to God,' sayde Robyn,
'And to the Trenyt ,
It was neuer by his gode wyll
This gode is come to me.' |
| 181 |
Lytyll Johnn there hym bethought
On a shrewde wyle;
Fyue myle in the forest he ran,
Hym happed all his wyll. |
| 182 |
Than he met the proud sheref,
Huntynge with houndes and horne;
Lytell Johnn coude of curtesye,
And knelyd hym beforne. |
| 183 |
'God the saue, my der mayster,
And Criste the saue and se!'
'Reynolde Gren lefe,' sayde the shryef,
'Where hast thou nowe be?' |
| 184 |
'I haue be in this forest;
A fayre syght can I se;
It was one of the fayrest syghtes
That euer yet sawe I me. |
| 185 |
'Yonder I sawe a ryght fayre harte,
His coloure is of grene;
Seuen score of dere vpon a herde
Be with hym all bydene. |
| 186 |
'Their tynd s are so sharpe, maister,
Of sexty, and well mo,
That I durst not shote for drede,
Lest they wolde me slo.' |
| 187 |
'I make myn auowe to God,' sayde the shyref,
'That syght wolde I fayne se:'
'Buske you thyderwarde, mi der mayster,
Anone, and wende with me.' |
| 188 |
The sherif rode, and Litell Johnn
Of fote he was smerte,
And whane they came before Robyn,
'Lo, sir, here is the mayster-herte.' |
| 189 |
Still stode the proud sherief,
A sory man was he;
'Wo the worthe, Raynolde Gren lefe,
Thou hast betrayed nowe me.' |
| 190 |
'I make myn auowe to God,' sayde Litell Johnn,
'Mayster, ye be to blame;
I was mysserued of my dynere
Whan I was with you at home.' |
| 191 |
Sone he was to souper sette,
And serued well with siluer white,
And whan the sherif sawe his vessell,
For sorowe he myght nat ete. |
| 192 |
'Make glad chere,' sayde Robyn Hode,
'Sherif, for charit ,
And for the loue of Litill Johnn
Thy lufe I graunt to the.' |
| 193 |
Whan they had souped well,
The day was al gone;
Robyn commaunde[d] Litell Johnn
To drawe of his hosen and his shone; |
| 194 |
His kirtell, and his cote of pie,
That was fured well and fine,
And to[ke] hym a grene mantel,
To lap his body therin. |
| 195 |
Robyn commaundyd his wight yonge men,
Vnder the gren -wode tree,
They shulde lye in that same sute,
That the sherif myght them see. |
| 196 |
All nyght lay the proud sherif
In his breche and in his [s]chert;
No wonder it was, in gren wode,
Though his syd s gan to smerte. |
| 197 |
'Make glade chere,' sayde Robyn Hode,
'Sheref, for charit ;
For this is our ordre i-wys,
Vnder the gren -wode tree.' |
| 198 |
'This is harder order,' sayde the sherief,
'Than any ankir or frere;
For all the golde in mery Englonde
I wolde nat longe dwell her.' |
| 199 |
'All this twelue monthes,' sayde Robin,
'Thou shalt dwell with me;
I shall the tech , proud sherif,
An outlaw for to be.' |
| 200 |
'Or I be here another nyght,' sayde the sherif,
'Robyn, nowe pray I the,
Smyte of mijn hede rather to-morowe,
And I forgyue it the. |
| 201 |
'Lat me go,' than sayde the sherif,
'For saynt charit ,
And I woll be the best[ ] frende
That euer yet had ye.' |
| 202 |
'Thou shalt swere me an othe,' sayde Robyn,
'On my bright bronde;
Shalt thou neuer awayte me scathe,
By water ne by lande. |
| 203 |
'And if thou fynde any of my men,
By nyght or [by] day,
Vpon thyn oth thou shalt swere
To helpe them tha[t] thou may.' |
| 204 |
Nowe hathe the sherif sworne his othe,
And home he began to gone;
He was as full of gren wode
As euer was hepe of stone. |
The fourth fytte |
| 205 |
The sherif dwelled in Notingham;
He was fayne he was agone;
And Robyn and his mery men
Went to wode anone. |
| 206 |
'Go we to dyner,' sayde Littell Johnn;
Robyn Hode sayde, Nay;
For I drede Our Lady be wroth with me,
Foe she sent me nat my pay. |
| 207 |
'Haue no doute, maister,' sayde Litell Johnn;
'Yet is nat the sonne at rest;
For I dare say, and sauely swere,
The knight is true and truste.' |
| 208 |
'Take thy bowe in thy hande,' sayde Robyn,
'Late Much wende with the,
And so shal Wyllyam Scarlok,
And no man abyde with me. |
| 209 |
'And walke vp vnder the Sayles,
And to Watlynge-strete,
And wayte after some vnketh gest;
Vp-chaunce ye may them mete. |
| 210 |
'Whether he be messengere,
Or a man that myrth s can,
Of my good he shall haue some,
Yf he be a por man.' |
| 211 |
Forth then stert Lytel Johan,
Half in tray and tene,
And gyrde hym with a full good swerde,
Under a mantel of grene. |
| 212 |
They went vp to the Sayles,
These yemen all thre;
They loked est, they loked west,
They myght no man se. |
| 213 |
But as [t]he[y] loked in Bernysdale,
By the hy waye,
Than were they ware of two blacke monkes,
Eche on a good palferay. |
| 214 |
Then bespake Lytell Johan,
To Much he gan say,
I dare lay my lyfe to wedde,
That [these] monkes haue brought our pay. |
| 215 |
'Make glad chere,' sayd Lytell Johan,
'And frese your bowes of ewe,
And loke your hert s be seker and sad,
Your stryng s trusty and trewe. |
| 216 |
'The monke hath two and fifty [men,]
And seuen somers full stronge;
There rydeth no bysshop in this londe
So ryally, I vnderstond. |
| 217 |
'Brethern,' sayd Lytell Johan,
'Here are no more but we thre;
But we bryng them to dyner,
Our mayster dare we not se. |
| 218 |
'Bende your bowes,' sayd Lytell Johan,
'Make all yon prese to stonde;
The formost monke, his lyfe and his deth
Is closed in my honde. |
| 219 |
'Abyde, chorle monke,' sayd Lytell Johan,
'No ferther that thou gone;
Yf thou doost, by dere worthy God,
Thy deth is in my honde. |
| 220 |
'And euyll thryfte on thy hede,' sayd Lytell Johan,
'Ryght vnder thy hatt s bonde;
For thou hast made our mayster wroth,
He is fastynge so longe.' |
| 221 |
'Who is your mayster?' sayd the monke;
Lytell Johan sayd, Robyn Hode;
'He is a stronge thefe,' sayd the monke,
'Of hym herd I neuer good.' |
| 222 |
'Thou lyest,' than sayd Lytell Johan,
'And that shall rew the;
He is a yeman of the forest,
To dyne he hath bod the.' |
| 223 |
Much was redy with a bolte,
Redly and anone,
He set the monke to-fore the brest,
To the grounde that he can gone. |
| 224 |
Of two and fyfty wyght yonge yemen
There abode not one,
Saf a lytell page and a grome,
To lede the somers with Lytel Johan. |
| 225 |
They brought the monke to the lodg -dore,
Whether he were loth or lefe,
For to speke with Robyn Hode,
Maugre in theyr tethe. |
| 226 |
Robyn dyde adowne his hode,
The monke whan that he se;
The monke was not so curt yse,
His hode then let he be. |
| 227 |
'He is a chorle, mayster, by dere worthy God,'
Than sayd Lytell Johan:
'Thereof no force,' sayd Robyn,
'For curteysy can he none. |
| 228 |
'How many men,' sayd Robyn,
'Had this monke, Johan?'
'Fyfty and two whan that we met,
But many of them be gone.' |
| 229 |
'Let blowe a horne,' sayd Robyn,
'That felaushyp may vs knowe;'
Seuen score of wyght yemen
Came pryckynge on a rowe. |
| 230 |
And euerych of them a good mantell
Of scarlet and of raye;
All they came to good Robyn,
To wyte what he wolde say. |
| 231 |
They made the monke to wasshe and wype,
And syt at his denere,
Robyn Hode and Lytell Johan
They serued him both in-fere. |
| 232 |
'Do gladly, monke,' sayd Robyn.
'Gramercy, syr,' sayd he.
'Where is your abbay, whan ye are at home,
And who is your avow ?' |
| 233 |
'Saynt Mary abbay,' sayd the monke,
'Though I be symple here.'
'In what offyce?' sayd Robyn:
'Syr, the hy selerer.' |
| 234 |
'Ye be the more welcome,' sayd Robyn,
'So euer mote I the;
Fyll of the best wyne,' sayd Robyn,
'This monke shall drynke to me. |
| 235 |
'But I haue grete meruayle,' sayd Robyn,
'Of all this long day;
I drede Our Lady be wroth with me,
She sent me not my pay.' |
| 236 |
'Haue no doute, mayster,' sayd Lytell Johan,
'Ye haue no nede, I saye;
This monke it hath brought, I dare well swere,
For he is of her abbay.' |
| 237 |
'And she was a borowe,' sayd Robyn,
'Betwene a knyght and me,
Of a lytell money that I hym lent,
Under the g'Rene-wode tree. |
| 238 |
'And yf thou hast that syluer ibrought,
I pray the let me se;
And I shall help the eftsones,
Yf thou haue nede to me.' |
| 239 |
The monke swore a full grete othe,
With a sory chere,
'Of the borowehode thou spekest to me,
Herde I neuer ere.' |
| 240 |
'I make myn avowe to God,' sayd Robyn,
'Monke, thou art to blame;
For God is holde a ryghtwys man,
And so is his dame. |
| 241 |
'Thou toldest with thyn own tonge,
Thou may not say nay,
How thou arte her seruaunt,
And seruest her euery day. |
| 242 |
'And thou art made her messengere,
My money for to pay;
Therfore I cun the mor thanke
Thou arte come at thy day. |
| 243 |
'What is in your cofers?' sayd Robyn,
'Trewe than tell thou me:'
'Syr,' he sayd, 'Twenty marke,
Al so mote I the.' |
| 244 |
'Yf there be no more,' sayd Robyn,
'I wyll not one peny;
Yf thou hast myster of ony more,
Syr, more I shall lende to the. |
| 245 |
'And yf I fynd [more,' sayd] Robyn,
'I-wys thou shalte it for gone;
For of thy spendynge-syluer, monke,
Thereof wyll I ryght none. |
| 246 |
'Go nowe forthe, Lytell Johan,
And the trouth tell thou me;
If there be no more but twenty marke,
No peny that I se.' |
| 247 |
Lytell Johan spred his mantell downe,
As he had done before,
And he tolde out of the monk s male
Eyght [hondred] pounde and more. |
| 248 |
Lytell Johan let it lye full styll,
And went to his mayster in hast;
'Syr,' he sayd, 'The monke is trewe ynowe,
Our Lady hath doubled your cast.' |
| 249 |
'I make myn avowe to God,' sayd Robyn —
'Monke, what tolde I the? —
Our Lady is the trewest woman
That euer yet founde I me. |
| 250 |
'By dere worthy God,' sayd Robyn,
'To seche all Englond thorowe,
Yet founde I neuer to my pay
A moche better borowe. |
| 251 |
'Fyll of the best wyne, and do hym drynke,' sayd Robyn,
'And grete well thy lady hende,
And yf she haue nede to Robyn Hode,
A frende she shall hym fynde. |
| 252 |
'And yf she nedeth ony more syluer,
Come thou agayne to me,
And, by this token she hath me sent,
She shall haue such thre.' |
| 253 |
The monke was goynge to London ward,
There to holde grete mote,
The knyght that rode so hye on hors,
To brynge hym vnder fote. |
| 254 |
'Whether be ye away?' sayd Robyn:
'Syr, to maners in this londe,
Too reken with our reues,
That haue done moch wronge.' |
| 255 |
'Come now forth, Lytell Johan,
And harken to my tale;
A better yemen I knowe none,
To seke a monk s male.' |
| 256 |
'How moch is in yonder other corser?' sayd Robyn,
'The soth must we see:'
'By Our Lady,' than sayd the monke,
'That were no curteysye, |
| 257 |
'To bydde a man to dyner,
And syth hym bete and bynde.'
'It is our old maner,' sayd Robyn,
'To leue but lytell behynde.' |
| 258 |
The monke toke the hors with spore,
No lenger wolde he abyde:
'Ask to drynk ,' than sayd Robyn,
'Or that ye forther ryde.' |
| 259 |
'Nay, for God,' than sayd the monke,
'Me reweth I cam so nere;
For better chepe I myght haue dyned
In Blythe or in Dankestere.' |
| 260 |
'Grete well your abbot,' sayd Robyn,
'And your pryour, I you pray,
And byd hym send me such a monke
To dyner euery day.' |
| 261 |
Now lete we that monke be styll,
And speke we of that knyght:
Yet he came to holde his day,
Whyle that it was lyght. |
| 262 |
He dyde him streyt to Bernysdale,
Under the gren -wode tre,
And he founde there Robyn Hode,
And all his mery meyn . |
| 263 |
The knyght lyght doune of his good palfray;
Robyn whan he gan see,
So curteysly he dyde adoune his hode,
And set hym on his knee. |
| 264 |
'God the sau , Robyn Hode,
And all this company:'
'Welcome be thou, gentyll knyght,
And ryght welcome to me.' |
| 265 |
Than bespake hym Robyn Hode,
To that knyght so fre:
What ned dryueth the to gren wode?
I praye the, syr knyght, tell me. |
| 266 |
'And welcome be thou, ge[n]tyll knyght,
Why hast thou be so longe?'
'For the abbot and the hy iustyce
Wolde haue had my londe.' |
| 267 |
'Hast thou thy londe [a]gayne?' sayd Robyn;
'Treuth than tell thou me:'
'Ye, for God,' sayd the knyght,
'And that thanke I God and the. |
| 268 |
'But take not a grefe,' sayd the knyght, 'That I haue be so longe;
I came by a wrastelynge,
And there I holpe a por yeman,
With wronge was put behynde.' |
| 269 |
'Nay, for God,' sayd Robyn,
'Syr knyght, that thanke I the;
What man that helpeth a good yeman,
His frende than wyll I be.' |
| 270 |
'Haue here foure hondred pounde,' than sayd the knyght,
'The whiche ye lent to me;
And here is also twenty marke
For your curteysy.' |
| 271 |
'Nay, for God,' than sayd Robyn,
'Thou broke it well for ay;
For Our Lady, by her [hy ] selerer,
Hath sent to me my pay. |
| 272 |
'And yf I toke it i-twyse,
A shame it were to me;
But trewely, gentyll knyght,
Welcom arte thou to me.' |
| 273 |
Whan Robyn had tolde his tale,
He leugh and had good chere:
'By my trouthe,' then sayd the knyght,
'Your money is redy here.' |
| 274 |
'Broke it well,' sayd Robyn,
'Thou gentyll knyght so fre;
And welcome be thou, ge[n]tyll knyght,
Under my trystell-tre. |
| 275 |
'But what shall these bow s do?' sayd Robyn,
'And these arow s ifedred fre?'
'By God,' than sayd the knyght,
'A por present to the.' |
| 276 |
'Come now forth, Lytell Johan,
And go to my treasur ,
And brynge me there foure hondred pounde;
The monke ouer-tolde it me. |
| 277 |
'Haue here foure hondred pounde,
Thou gentyll knyght and trewe,
And bye hors and harnes good,
And gylte thy spores all newe. |
| 278 |
'And yf thou fayle ony spendynge,
Com to Robyn Hode,
And by my trouth thou shalt none fayle,
The whyles I haue any good. |
| 279 |
'And broke well thy foure hondred pound,
Whiche I lent to the,
And make thy selfe no more so bare,
By the counsell of me.' |
| 280 |
Thus than holpe hym good Robyn,
The knyght all of his care:
God, that syt in heuen hye,
Graunte vs well to fare! |
The fifth fytte |
| 281 |
Now hath the knyght his leue i-take,
And wente hym on his way;
Robyn Hode and his mery men
Dwelled styll full many a day. |
| 282 |
Lyth and lysten, gentil men,
And herken what I shall say,
How the proud[ ] sheryfe of Notyngham
Dyde crye a full fayre play; |
| 283 |
That all the best archers of the north
Sholde come vpon a day,
And [he] that shoteth allther best
The game shall bere a way. |
| 284 |
He that shoteth allther best,
Furthest fayre and lowe,
At a payre of fynly buttes,
Under the gren -wode shawe, |
| 285 |
A ryght good arowe he shall haue,
The shaft of syluer whyte,
The hede and the feders of ryche red golde,
In Englond is none lyke. |
| 286 |
This than herde good Robyn,
Under his trystell-tre:
'Make you redy, ye wyght yonge men;
That shotynge wyll I se. |
| 287 |
'Buske you, my mery yonge men,
Ye shall go with me;
And I wyll wete the shryu s fayth,
Trewe and yf he be.' |
| 288 |
Whan they had theyr bowes i-bent,
Theyr takles fedred fre,
Seuen score of wyght yonge men
Stode by Robyns kne. |
| 289 |
Whan they cam to Notyngham,
The buttes were fayre and longe;
Many was the bolde archere
That shoted with bow s stronge. |
| 290 |
'There shall but syx shote with me;
The other shal kepe my he[ue]de,
And stand with good bow s bent,
That I be not desceyued.' |
| 291 |
The fourth outlawe his bowe gan bende,
And that was Robyn Hode,
And that behelde the proud[ ] sheryfe,
All by the but [as] he stode. |
| 292 |
Thry s Robyn shot about,
And alway he slist the wand,
And so dyde good Gylberte
Wyth the whyt hande. |
| 293 |
Lytell Johan and good Scatheloke
Were archers good and fre;
Lytell Much and good Reynolde,
The worste wolde they not be. |
| 294 |
Whan they had shot aboute,
These archours fayre and good,
Euermore was the best,
For soth, Robyn Hode. |
| 295 |
Hym was delyuered the good arowe,
For best worthy was he;
He toke the yeft so curteysly,
To gren wode wolde he. |
| 296 |
They cryed out on Robyn Hode,
And grete horn s gan they blowe:
'Wo worth the, treason!' sayd Robyn,
'Full euyl thou art to knowe. |
| 297 |
'And wo be thou! thou proud sheryf,
Thus gladdynge thy gest;
Other wyse thou behot me
In yonder wylde forest. |
| 298 |
'But had I the in gren wode,
Under my trystell-tre,
Thou sholdest leue me a better wedde
Than thy trewe lewt .' |
| 299 |
Full many a bow there was bent,
And arow s let they glyde;
Many a kyrtell there was rent,
And hurt many a syde. |
| 300 |
The outlawes shot was so stronge
That no man myght them dryue,
And the proud[ ] sheryf s men,
They fled away full blyue. |
| 301 |
Robyn sawe the busshement to-broke,
In gren wode he wolde haue be;
Many an arowe there was shot
Amonge that company. |
| 302 |
Lytell Johan was hurte full sore,
With an arowe in his kne,
That he myght neyther go nor ryde;
It was full grete pyt . |
| 303 |
'Mayster,' then sayd Lytell Johan,
'If euer thou loue[d]st me,
And for that ylk lord s loue
That dyed vpon a tre, |
| 304 |
'And for the medes of my seruyce,
That I haue serued the,
Lete neuer the proud sheryf
Alyue now fynd me. |
| 305 |
'But take out thy brown swerde,
And smyte all of my hede,
And gyue me wound s depe and wyde;
No lyfe on me be lefte.' |
| 306 |
'I wolde not that,' sayd Robyn,
'Johan, that thou were slawe,
For all the golde in mery Englonde,
Though it lay now on a rawe.' |
| 307 |
'God forbede,' sayd Lytell Much,
'That dyed on a tre,
That thou sholdest, Lytell Johan,
Parte our company.' |
| 308 |
Up he toke hym on his backe,
And bare hym well a myle;
Many a tyme he layd hym downe,
And shot another whyle. |
| 309 |
n was there a fayre castell,
A lytell within the wode;
Double-dyched it was about,
And walled, by the rode. |
| 310 |
And there dwelled that gentyll knyght,
Syr Rychard at the Lee,
That Robyn had lent his good,
Under the gren -wode tree. |
| 311 |
In he toke good Robyn,
And all his company:
'Welcome be thou, Robyn Hode,
Welcome arte thou to me; |
| 312 |
'And moche [I] thanke the of thy confort,
And of thy curteysye,
And of thy gret kynd nesse,
Under the gren -wode tre. |
| 313 |
'I loue no man in all this worlde
So much as I do the;
For all the proud[ ] sheryf of Notyngham,
Ryght here shalt thou be. |
| 314 |
'Shyt the gates, and drawe the brydge,
And let no man come in,
And arme you well, and make you redy,
And to the walles ye wynne. |
| 315 |
'For one thynge, Robyn, I the behote;
Iswere by Saynt Quyntyne,
These forty dayes thou wonnest with me,
To soupe, ete, and dyne.' |
| 316 |
Bordes were layde, and clothes were spredde,
Redely and anone;
Robyn Hode and his mery men
To met can they gone. |
The VI. fytte |
| 317 |
Lythe and lysten, gentylmen,
And herkyn to your songe;
Howe the proud shyref of Notyngham,
And men of armys stronge, |
| 318 |
Full fast cam to the hy shyref,
The contr vp to route,
And they besette the knyght s castell,
The wall s all aboute. |
| 319 |
The proud shyref loude gan crye,
And sayde, Thou traytour knight,
Thou kepest here the kynges enemys,
Agaynst the lawe and right. |
| 320 |
'Syr, I wyll auowe that I haue done,
The dedys that here be dyght,
Vpon all the land s that I haue,
As I am a trew knyght. |
| 321 |
'Wende furth, sirs, on your way,
And do no more to me
Tyll ye wyt oure kyng s wille,
What he wyll say to the.' |
| 322 |
The shyref thus had his answere,
Without any lesynge;
[Fu]rth he yede to London towne,
All for to tel our kinge. |
| 323 |
Ther he telde him of that knight,
And eke of Robyn Hode,
And also of the bolde archars,
That were soo noble and gode. |
| 324 |
'He wyll auowe that he hath done,
To mayntene the outlawes stronge;
He wyll be lorde, and set you at nought,
In all the northe londe.' |
| 325 |
'I wil be at Notyngham,' saide our kynge,
'Within this fourteenyght,
And take I wyll Robyn Hode,
And so I wyll that knight. |
| 326 |
'Go nowe home, shyref,' sayde our kynge,
'And do as I byd the;
And ordeyn gode archers ynowe,
Of all the wyd contr .' |
| 327 |
The shyref had his leue i-take,
And went hym on his way,
And Robyn Hode to gren wode,
Vpon a certen day. |
| 328 |
And Lytel John was hole of the arowe
That shot was in his kne,
And dyd hym streyght to Robyn Hode,
Vnder the grene-wod tree. |
| 329 |
Robyn Hode walked in the forest,
Vnder the leuys grene;
The proud shyref of Notyngham
Thereof he had grete tene. |
| 330 |
The shyref there fayled of Robyn Hode,
He myght not haue his pray;
Than he awayted this gentyll knyght,
Bothe by nyght and day. |
| 331 |
Euer he wayted the gentyll knyght,
Syr Richarde at the Lee,
As he went on haukynge by the ryuer-syde,
And let [his] hauk s flee. |
| 332 |
Toke he there this gentyll knight,
With men of armys stronge,
And led hym to Notyngham warde,
Bounde bothe fote and hande. |
| 333 |
The sheref sware a full grete othe,
Bi hym that dyed on rode,
He had leuer than an hundred pound
That he had Robyn Hode. |
| 334 |
This harde the knyght s wyfe,
A fayr lady and a free;
She set hir on a gode palfrey,
To gre'Ne wode anone rode she. |
| 335 |
Whanne she cam in the forest,
Vnder the gren -wode tree,
Fonde she there Robyn Hode,
And al his fayre men . |
| 336 |
'God the sau , god Robyn,
And all thy company;
For Our der Ladyes sake,
A bon graunte thou me. |
| 337 |
'Late neuer my wedded lorde
Shamefully slayne be;
He is fast bowne to Notingham warde,
For the loue of the.' |
| 338 |
Anone than saide goode Robyn
To that lady so fre,
What man hath your lorde [i-]take?
. . . . . . |
| 339 |
. . . . . .
'For soth as I the say;
He is nat yet thre myl s
Passed on his way.' |
| 340 |
Vp than sterte gode Robyn,
As man that had ben wode:
'Buske you, my mery men,
For hym that dyed on rode. |
| 341 |
'And he that this sorowe forsaketh,
By hym that dyed on tre,
Shall he neuer in gren wode
No lenger dwel with me.' |
| 342 |
Sone there were gode bow s bent,
Mo than seuen score;
Hedge ne dyche spared they none
That was them before. |
| 343 |
'I make myn auowe to God,' sayde Robyn,
'The sherif wolde I fayne see;
And if I may hym take,
I-quyte shall it be.' |
| 344 |
And whan they came to Notingham,
They walked in the strete;
And with the proud sherif i-wys
Son can they mete. |
| 345 |
'Abyde, thou proud sherif,' he sayde,
'Abyde, and speke with me;
Of some tidinges of oure kinge
I wolde fayne here of the. |
| 346 |
'This seuen yere, by dere worthy God,
Ne yede I this fast on fote;
I make myn auowe to God, thou proud sherif,
It is nat for thy gode.' |
| 347 |
Robyn bent a full goode bowe,
An arrowe he drowe at wyll;
He hit so the proud sherife
Vpon the grounde he lay full still. |
| 348 |
And or he myght vp aryse,
On his fete to stonde,
He smote of the sherifs hede
With his bright[ ] bronde. |
| 349 |
'Lye thou there, thou proud sherife,
Euyll mote thou cheue!
There myght no man to the truste
The whyles thou were a lyue.' |
| 350 |
His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes,
That were so sharpe and kene,
And layde on the sheryues men,
And dryued them downe bydene. |
| 351 |
Robyn stert to that knyght,
And cut a two his bonde,
And toke hym in his hand a bowe,
And bad hym by hym stonde. |
| 352 |
'Leue thy hors the behynde,
And lerne for to renne;
Thou shalt with me to gren wode,
Through myr , mosse, and fenne. |
| 353 |
'Thou shalt with me to gren wode,
Without ony leasynge,
Tyll that I haue gete vs grace
Of Edwarde, our comly kynge.' |
The VII. fytte |
| 354 |
The kynge came to Notynghame,
With knyght s in grete araye,
For to take that gentyll knyght
And Robyn Hode, and yf he may. |
| 355 |
He asked men of that countr
After Robyn Hode,
And after that gentyll knyght,
That was so bolde and stout. |
| 356 |
Whan they had tolde hym the case
Our kynge vnderstode ther tale,
And seased in his honde
The knyght s lond s all. |
| 357 |
All the passe of Lancasshyre
He went both ferre and nere,
Tyll he came to Plomton Parke;
He faylyd many of his dere. |
| 358 |
There our kynge was wont to se
Herd s many one,
He coud vnneth fynde one dere,
That bare ony good horne. |
| 359 |
The kynge was wonder wroth withall,
And swore by the Trynyt ,
'I wolde I had Robyn Hode,
With eyen I myght hym se. |
| 360 |
'And he that wolde smyte of the knyght s hede,
And brynge it to me,
He shall haue the knyght s londes,
Syr Rycharde at the Le. |
| 361 |
'I gyue it hym with my charter,
And sele it [with] my honde,
To haue and holde for euer more,
In all mery Englonde.' |
| 362 |
Than bespake a fayre olde knyght,
That was treue in his fay:
A, my leeg lorde the kynge,
One worde I shall you say. |
| 363 |
There is no man in this countr
May haue the knyght s londes,
Whyle Robyn Hode may ryde of gone,
And bere a bowe in his hondes, |
| 364 |
That he ne shall lese his hede,
That is the best ball in his hode:
Giue it no man, my lorde the kynge,
That ye wyll any good. |
| 365 |
Half a yere dwelled our comly kynge
In Notyngham, and well more;
Coude he not here of Robyn Hode,
In what countr that he were. |
| 366 |
But alway went good Robyn
By halke and eke by hyll,
And alway slewe the kyng s dere,
And welt them at his wyll. |
| 367 |
Than bespake a proude fostere,
That stode by our kyng s kne;
Yf ye wyll se good Robyn,
Ye must do after me. |
| 368 |
Take fyue of the best knyght s
That be in your lede,
And walke downe by yon abbay,
And gete you monk s wede. |
| 369 |
And I wyll be your led s-man,
And lede you the way,
And or ye come to Notyngham,
Myn hede then dare I lay, |
| 370 |
That ye shall mete with good Robyn,
On lyue yf that he be;
Or ye come to Notyngham,
With eyen ye shall hym se. |
| 371 |
Full hast[ ]ly our kynge was dyght,
So were his knyght s fyue,
Euerych of them in monk s wede,
And hasted them thyder blyve. |
| 372 |
Our kynge was grete aboue his cole,
A brode hat on his crowne,
Ryght as he were abbot-lyke,
They rode up in-to the towne. |
| 373 |
Styf bot s our kynge had on,
Forsoth as I you say;
He rode syngynge to gren wode,
The couent was clothed in graye. |
| 374 |
His male-hors and his gret somers
Folowed our kynge behynde,
Tyll they came to gren wode,
A myle vnder the lynde. |
| 375 |
There they met with good Robyn,
Stondynge on the waye,
And so dyde many a bolde archere,
For soth as I you say. |
| 376 |
Robyn toke the kyng s hors,
Hast ly in that stede,
And sayd, Syr abbot, by your leue,
A whyle ye must abyde. |
| 377 |
'We be yemen of this foreste,
Vnder the gren -wode tre;
We lyue by our kyng s dere,
[Other shyft haue not wee.] |
| 378 |
'And ye haue chyrches and rent s both,
And gold full grete plent ;
Gyue vs some of your spendynge,
For saynt[ ] charyt .' |
| 379 |
Than bespake our cumly kynge,
Anone than sayd he;
I brought no more to gren wode
But forty pounde with me. |
| 380 |
I haue layne at Notyngham
This fourtynyght with our kynge,
And spent I haue full moche good,
On many a grete lordynge. |
| 381 |
And I haue but forty pounde,
No more than haue I me;
But yf I had an hondred pounde,
I wolde vouch it safe on the. |
| 382 |
Robyn toke the forty pounde,
And departed it in two partye;
Halfendell he gaue his mery men,
And bad them mery to be. |
| 383 |
Full curteysly Robyn gan say;
Syr, haue this for your spendyng;
We shall mete another day;
'Gramercy,' than sayd our kynge. |
| 384 |
'But well the greteth Edwarde, our kynge,
And sent to the his seale,
And byddeth the com to Notyngham,
Both to mete and mele' |
| 385 |
He toke out the brod targe,
And sone he lete hym se;
Robyn coud his courteysy,
And set hym on his kne. |
| 386 |
'I loue no man in all the worlde
So well as I do my kynge;
Welcome is my lord s seale;
And, monke, for thy tydynge, |
| 387 |
'Syr abbot, for thy tydynges,
To day thou shalt dyne with me,
For the loue of my kynge,
Under my trystell-tre.' |
| 388 |
Forth he lad our comly kynge,
Full fayre by the honde;
Many a dere there was slayne,
And full fast dyghtande. |
| 389 |
Robyn toke a full grete horne,
And loude he gan blowe;
Seuen score of wyght yonge men
Came redy on a rowe. |
| 390 |
All they kneled on theyr kne,
Full fayre before Robyn:
The kynge sayd hym selfe vntyll,
And swore by Saynt Austyn, |
| 391 |
'Here is a wonder semely syght;
Me thynketh, by Godd s pyne,
His men are more at his byddynge
Then my men be at myn.' |
| 392 |
Full hast[ ]ly was theyr dyner idyght,
And therto gan they gone;
They serued our kynge with al theyr myght,
Both Robyn and Lytell Johan. |
| 393 |
Anone before our kynge was set
The fatt venyson,
The good whyte brede, the good rede wyne,
And therto the fyne ale and browne. |
| 394 |
'Make good chere,' said Robyn,
'Abbot, for charyt ;
And for this ylk tydynge,
Blyssed mote thou be. |
| 395 |
'Now shalte thou se what lyfe we lede,
Or thou hens wende;
Than thou may enfourme our kynge,
Whan ye togyder lende.' |
| 396 |
Up they stert all in hast,
Theyr bow s were smartly bent;
Our kynge was neuer so sore agast,
He wende to haue be shente. |
| 397 |
Two yerd s there were vp set,
Thereto gan they gange;
By fyfty pase, our kynge sayd,
The merk s were to longe. |
| 398 |
On euery syde a rose-garlonde,
They shot vnder the lyne:
'Who so fayleth of the rose-garlonde,' sayd Robyn,
'His takyll he shall tyne, |
| 399 |
'And yelde it to his mayster,
Be it neuer so fyne;
For no man wyll I spare,
So drynke I ale or wyne: |
| 400 |
'And bere a buffet on his hede,
I-wys ryght all bare:'
And all that fell in Robyns lote,
He smote them wonder sare. |
| 401 |
Twyse Robyn shot aboute,
And euer he cleued the wande,
And so dyde good Gylberte
With the Whyt Hande. |
| 402 |
Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,
For nothynge wolde they spare;
When they fayled of the garlonde,
Robyn smote them full sore. |
| 403 |
At the last shot that Robyn shot,
For all his frend s fare,
Yet he fayled of the garlonde
Thre fyngers and mare. |
| 404 |
Than bespake good Gylberte,
And thus he gan say;
'Mayster,' he sayd, 'your takyll is lost,
Stande forth and take your pay.' |
| 405 |
'If it be so,' sayd Robyn,
'That may no better be,
Syr abbot, I delyuer the myn arowe,
I pray the, syr, serue thou me.' |
| 406 |
'It falleth not for myn ordre,' sayd our kynge,
'Robyn, by thy leue,
For to smyte no good yeman,
For doute I sholde hym greue.' |
| 407 |
'Smyte on boldely,' sayd Robyn,
'I giue the larg leue:'
Anone our kynge, with that worde,
He folde vp his sleue, |
| 408 |
And sych a buffet he gaue Robyn,
To grounde he yede full nere:
'I make myn avowe to God,' sayd Robyn,
'Thou arte a stalworthe frere. |
| 409 |
'There is pith in thyn arme,' sayd Robyn,
'I trowe thou canst well shete:'
Thus our kynge and Robyn Hode
Togeder gan they mete. |
| 410 |
Robyn beheld our comly kynge
Wystly in the face,
So dyde Syr Rycharde at the Le,
And kneled downe in that place. |
| 411 |
And so dyde all the wylde outlawes,
Whan they se them knele:
'My lorde the kynge of Englonde,
Now I knowe you well. |
| 412 |
'Mercy then, Robyn,' sayd our kynge,
'Vnder your trystyll-tre,
Of thy goodnesse and thy grace,
For my men and me!' |
| 413 |
'Yes, for God,' sayd Robyn,
'And also God me saue,
I ask mersy, my lorde the kynge,
And for my men I craue.' |
| 414 |
'Yes, for God,' than sayd our kynge,
'And therto sent I me,
With that thou leue the gren wode,
And all thy company; |
| 415 |
'And come home, syr, to my courte,
And there dwell with me.'
'I make myn avowe to God,' sayd Robyn,
'And ryght so shall it be. |
| 416 |
'I wyll come to your courte,
Your seruyse for to se,
And brynge with me of my men
Seuen score and thre. |
| 417 |
'But me lyk well your seruyse,
I [wyll] come agayne full soone,
And shote at the donn dere,
As I am wonte to done.' |
The VIII. fytte |
| 418 |
'Haste thou ony gren cloth,' sayd our kynge,
'That thou wylte sell nowe to me?'
'Ye, for God,' sayd Robyn,
'Thyrty yerd s and thre.' |
| 419 |
'Robyn,' sayd our kynge,
'Now pray I the,
Sell me some of that cloth,
To me and my meyn .' |
| 420 |
'Yes, for God,' then sayd Robyn,
'Or elles I were a fole;
Another day ye wyll me clothe,
I trowe, ayenst the Yole.' |
| 421 |
The kynge kest of his col then,
A grene garment he dyde on,
And euery knyght also, i-wys,
Another had full sone. |
| 422 |
Whan they were clothed in Lyncolne grene,
They keste away theyr graye;
'Now we shall to Notyngham,'
All thus our kynge gan say. |
| 423 |
They bente theyr bowes, and forth they went,
Shotynge all in-fere,
Towarde the towne of Notyngham,
Outlawes as they were. |
| 424 |
Our kynge and Robyn rode togyder,
For soth as I you say,
And they shote plucke-buffet,
As they went by the way. |
| 425 |
And many a buffet our kynge wan
Of Robyn Hode that day,
And nothynge spared good Robyn
Our kynge in his pay. |
| 426 |
'So God me help ,' sayd our kynge,
'Thy game is nought to lere;
I sholde not get a shote of the,
Though I shote all this yere.' |
| 427 |
All the people of Notyngham
They stode and behelde;
They sawe nothynge but mantels of grene
That couered all the felde. |
| 428 |
Than euery man to other gan say,
I drede our kynge be slone;
Com Robyn Hode to the towne, i-wys
On lyue he lefte neuer one.' |
| 429 |
Full hast[ ]ly they began to fle,
Both yemen and knaues,
And olde wyues that myght euyll goo,
They hypped on theyr staues. |
| 430 |
The kynge l[o]ughe full fast,
And commaunded them agayne;
When they se our comly kynge,
I-wys they were full fayne. |
| 431 |
They ete and dranke, and made them glad,
And sange with not s hye;
Than bespake our comly kynge
To Syr Rycharde at the Lee. |
| 432 |
He gaue hym there his londe agayne,
A good man he bad hym be;
Robyn thanked our comly kynge,
And set hym on his kne. |
| 433 |
Had robyn dwelled in the kyng s courte
But twelue monethes and thre,
That [he had] spent an hondred pounde,
And all his mennes fe. |
| 434 |
In euery place where Robyn came
Euer more he layde downe,
Both for knyght s and for squyres,
To gete hym grete renowne. |
| 435 |
By than the yere was all agone
He had no man but twayne,
Lytell Johan and good Scathlocke,
With hym all for to gone. |
| 436 |
Robyn sawe yonge men shote
Full fayre vpon a day;
'Alas!' than sayd good Robyn,
'My welthe is went away. |
| 437 |
'Somtyme I was an archere good,
A styffe and eke a stronge;
I was compted the best archere
That was in mery Englonde. |
| 438 |
'Alas!' then sayd good Robyn,
'Alas and well a woo!
Yf I dwele lenger with the kynge,
Sorowe wyll me sloo.' |
| 439 |
Forth than went Robyn Hode
Tyll he came to our kynge:
'My lorde the kynge of Englonde,
Graunte me myn askynge. |
| 440 |
'I made a chapell in Bernysdale,
That semely is to se,
It is of Mary Magdaleyne,
And thereto wolde I be. |
| 441 |
'I myght neuer in this seuen nyght
No tyme to slepe ne wynke,
Nother all these seuen dayes
Nother ete ne drynke. |
| 442 |
'Me longeth sore to Bernysdale,
I may not be therfro;
Barefote and wolwarde I haue hyght
Thyder for to go.' |
| 443 |
'Yf it be so,' than sayd our kynge,
'It may no better be,
Seuen nyght I gyue the leue,
No lengre, to dwell fro me.' |
| 444 |
'Gramercy, lorde,' then sayd Robyn,
And set hym on his kne;
He toke his leu full courteysly.
To gren wode then went he. |
| 445 |
Whan he came to gren wode,
In a mery mornynge,
There he herde the not s small
Of byrd s mery syngynge. |
| 446 |
'It is ferre gone,' sayd Robyn,
'That I was last here;
Me lyste a lytell for to shote
At the donn dere.' |
| 447 |
Robyn slewe a full grete harte;
His horne than gan he blow,
That all the outlawes of that forest
That horne coud they knowe, |
| 448 |
And gadred them togyder,
In a lytell throwe.
Seuen score of wyght yonge men
Came redy on a rowe, |
| 449 |
And fayre dyde of theyr hodes,
And set them on theyr kne:
'Welcome,' they sayd, 'our [der ] mayster,
Under this gren -wode tre. |
| 450 |
Robyn dwelled in gren wode
Twenty yere and two;
For all drede of Edwarde our kynge,
Agayne wolde he not goo. |
| 451 |
Yet he was begyled, i-wys,
Through a wycked woman,
The pryoresse of Kyrk sly,
That nye was of hys kynne: |
| 452 |
For the loue of a knyght,
Syr Roger of Donkesly,
That was her own speciall;
Full euyll mot they the! |
| 453 |
They toke togyder theyr counsell
Robyn Hode for to sle,
And how they myght best do that dede,
His banis for to be. |
| 454 |
Than bespake good Robyn,
In place where as he stode,
'To morow I muste to Kyrke[s]ly,
Craftely to be leten blode.' |
| 455 |
Syr Roger of Donkestere,
By the pryoresse he lay,
And there they betrayed good Robyn Hode,
Through theyr fals playe. |
| 456 |
Cryst haue mercy on his soule,
That dyed on the rode!
For he was a good outlawe,
And dyde pore men moch god. |
