As printed by Copland, at the end of his edition of the Gest,
with a few corrections from White's edition, 1634: Ritson's Robin
Hood, 1795, II, 199. I have not thought it necessary to collate
Ritson's reprint with Copland. The collations with White here are
made with the undated copy in the Bodleian Library, Z. 3. Art.
Seld.
Robyn Hode |
Lysten, to [me], my mery men all,
And harke what I shall say;
Of an adventure I shall you tell,
That befell this other daye.
With a proude potter I met,
And a rose-garlande on his head,
The floures of it shone marvaylous freshe;
This seven yere and more he hath used this waye,
Yet was he never so curteyse a potter
As one peny passage to paye.
Is there any of my mery men all
That dare be so bolde
To make the potter paie passage,
Either silver or golde? |
v. 121
125
130 |
Lytell John |
Not I master, for twenty pound redy tolde,
For there is not among us al one
That dare medle with that potter, man for man.
I felt his handes not long agone,
But I had lever have ben here by the;
Therfore I knowe what he is.
Mete him when ye wil, or mete him whan ye shal,
He is as propre a man as ever you medle[d] withal. |
135
140 |
Robyn Hode |
I will lai with the, Litel John, twenti pound so read,
If I wyth that potter mete
I wil make him pay passage, maugre his head. |
145 |
Lyttel John |
I consente therto, so eate I bread;
If he pay passage, maugre his head,
Twenti pound shall ye hare of me for your mede. |
|
The Potters Boy Jacke |
Out alas, that ever I sawe this daye!
For I am clene out of my waye
From Notyngham towne;
If I hye me not the faster,
Or I come there the market wel be done. |
150 |
Robyn Hode |
| Let me se, are the pottes hole and sounde? |
|
Jacke |
| Yea, meister, but they will not breake the ground. |
155 |
Robyn Hode |
I wil them breke, for the cuckold thi maisters sake;
And if they will breake the grounde,
Thou shall have thre pence for a pound. |
|
Jacke |
Out alas! what have ye done?
If my maister come, he will breke your crown. |
160 |
The Potter |
Why, thou horeson, art thou here yet?
Thou shouldest have bene at market. |
|
Jacke |
I met with Robin Hode, a good yeman;
He hath broken my pottes,
And called you kuckolde by your name. |
165 |
The Potter |
Thou mayst be a gentylman, so God me save,
But thou semest a noughty knave.
Thou callest me cuckolde by my name,
And I swere by God and Saynt John,
Wyfe had I never none:
This cannot I denye.
But if thou be a good felowe,
I wil sel mi horse, mi harneis, pottes and paniers to,
Thou shalt have the one halfe, and I will have the other.
If thou be not so content,
Thou shalt have stripes, if thou were my brother. |
170
175 |
Robyn Hode |
Harke, potter, what I shall say:
This seven yere and more thou hast used this way,
Yet were thou never so curteous to me
As one penny passage to paye. |
180 |
The Potter |
| Why should I pay passage to thee? |
|
Robyn Hode |
For I am Robyn Hode, chiefe gouernoure
Under the grene-woode tree. |
|
The Potter |
This seven yere have I used this way up and downe,
Yet payed I passage to no man,
Nor now I wyl not beginne, to do the worst thou can. |
185 |
Robyn Hode |
Passage shalt thou pai here under the grene-wode tre,
Or els thou shalt leve a wedde with me. |
|
The Potter |
If thou be a good felowe, as men do the call,
Laye awaye thy bowe,
And take thy sword and buckeler in thy hande,
And se what shall befall. |
190 |
Robin Hode |
| Lyttle John, where art thou? |
|
LYttel [John] |
Here, mayster, I make God avowe.
I tolde you, mayster, so God me save,
That you shoulde fynde the potter a knave.
Holde your buckeler faste in your hande,
And I wyll styfly by you stande,
Ready for to fyghte;
Be the knave never so stoute,
I shall rappe him on the snoute,
And put hym to flyghte. |
195
200 |
