| 1 |
Lyth and listen, gentlemen,
That's come of high born blood;
I'll tell you of a brave booting
That befel Robin Hood. |
| 2 |
Robin Hood upon a day,
He went forth him alone,
And as he came from Barnesdale
Into a fair evening, |
| 3 |
He met a beggar on the way,
That sturdily could gang;
He had a pike-staff in his hand,
That was baith stark and strang. |
| 4 |
A clouted cloak about him was,
That held him from the cold;
The thinnest bit of it, I guess,
Was more than twenty fold. |
| 5 |
His meal-pock hang about his neck,
Into a leathern fang,
Well fasteneg with a broad buckle,
That was both stark and strang. |
| 6 |
He had three hats upon his head,
Together sticked fast;
He cared neither for wind nor weet,
In lands wherever he past. |
| 7 |
Good Robin coost him in his way,
To see what he might be;
If any beggar had money,
He thought some part had he. |
| 8 |
'Tarry, tarry,' good Robin says,
'Tarry, and speak with me;'
He heard him as he heard [him] not,
And fast his way can hie. |
| 9 |
'It be's not so,' says good Robin,
'Nay, thou must tarry still;'
'By my troth,' says the bold beggar,
'Of that I have no will. |
| 10 |
'it is far to my lodging-house,
And it is growing late;
If they have supt ere I come in,
I will look wondrous blate.' |
| 11 |
'Now, by my troth,' says good Robin,
'I see well by thy fare,
If thou chear well to thy supper,
Of mine thou takes no care; |
| 12 |
'Who wants my dinner all the day,
And wots not where to lie,
And should I to the tavern go,
I want money to buy. |
| 13 |
'Sir, thou must lend me some money,
Till we two meet again:'
The beggar answerd cankerdly,
I have no money to lend. |
| 14 |
Thou art as young a man as I,
And seems to be as sweer;
If thou fast till thou get from me,
Thou shalt eat none this year. |
| 15 |
'Now, by my troth,' says good Robin,
'Since we are sembled so,
If thou have but a small farthing,
I'll have it ere thou go. |
| 16 |
Therefore, lay down thy clouted cloak,
And do no longer stand,
And loose the strings of all thy pocks:
I'll ripe them with my hand. |
| 17 |
'And now to thee I make a vow,
If thou make any din,
I shall see if a broad arrow
Can pierce a beggar's skin.' |
| 18 |
The beggar smil'd, and answer made:
Far better let me be;
Think not that I will be afraid
For thy nip crooked tree. |
| 19 |
Or that I fear thee any whit
For thy curn nips of sticks;
I know no use for them so meet
As to be pudding-pricks. |
| 20 |
Here I defy thee to do me ill,
For all thy boistrous fare;
Thou's get nothing from me but ill,
Would thou seek it evermair. |
| 21 |
Good Robin bent his noble bow —
He was an angry man —
And in it set a broad arrow;
Yet er 'twas drawn a span, |
| 22 |
The beggar, with his noble tree,
Reacht him so round a rout
That his bow and his broad arrow
In flinders flew about. |
| 23 |
Good Robin bound him to his brand,
But that provd likewise vain;
The beggar lighted on his hand
With his pike-staff again. |
| 24 |
I wot he might not draw a sword
For forty days and more;
Good Robin could not speak a word,
His heart was never so sore. |
| 25 |
He could not fight, he could not flee,
He wist not what to do;
The beggar, with his noble tree,
Laid lusty flaps him to. |
| 26 |
He paid good Robin back and side,
And beft him up and down,
And with his pike-staff still on laid
Till he fell in a swoon. |
| 27 |
'Fy! stand up, man,' the beggar said,
''Tis shame to go to rest;
Stay still till thou get thy mony [told],
I think it were the best. |
| 28 |
'And syne go to the tavern-house,
And buy both wine and ale;
Hereat thy friends will crack full crouse,
Thou has been at a dale.' |
| 29 |
Good Robin answerd never a word,
But lay still as a stane;
His cheeks were white as any clay,
And closed were his eyne. |
| 30 |
The beggar thought him dead but fail,
And boldly bownd away;
I would you had been at the dale,
And gotten part of the play. |
| 31 |
Now three of Robin's men, by chance,
Came walking on the way,
And found their master in a trance,
On ground where he did lie. |
| 32 |
Up have they taken good Robin,
Making a piteous bier,
Yet saw they no man there at whom
They might the matter spear. |
| 33 |
They looked him all round about,
But wounds on him saw none,
Yet at his mouth came bocking out
The blood of a good vein. |
| 34 |
Cold water they have taken syne,
And cast into his face;
Then he began to lift his eyne,
And spake within short space. |
| 35 |
'Tell us, dear master,' says his men,
'How with you stands the case?'
Good Robin sighd ere he began
To tell of his disgrace. |
| 36 |
'I have been watchman in this wood
Near hand this forty year,
Yet I was never so hard bestead
As you have found me here. |
| 37 |
'A beggar with a clouted cloak,
In whom I feard no ill,
Hath with a pike-staff clawed my back;
I fear 't shall never be well. |
| 38 |
'See, where he goes out oer yon hill,
With hat upon his head;
If ever you lovd your master well,
Go now revenge this deed. |
| 39 |
'And bring him back again to me,
If it lie in your might,
That I may see, before I die,
Him punisht in my sight. |
| 40 |
'And if you may not bring him back,
Let him not go loose on;
For to us all it were great shame
If he escapt again.' |
| 41 |
'One of us shall with you remain,
Because you're ill at ease;
The other two shall bring him back,
To use him as you please.' |
| 42 |
'Now, by my troth,' says good Robin,
'I trow there's enough said;
If he get scouth to weild his tree,
I fear you'll both be paid.' |
| 43 |
'Be ye not feard, our good master,
That we two can be dung
With any blutter base beggar,
That hath nought but a rung. |
| 44 |
'His staff shall stand him in no stead;
That you shall shortly see;
But back again he shall be led,
And fast bound shall he be,
To see if you will have him slain,
Or hanged on a tree.' |
| 45 |
'But cast you slily in his way,
Before he be aware,
And on his pike-staff first lay hands;
You'll speed the better far.' |
| 46 |
Now leave we Robin with his man,
Again to play the child,
And learn himself to stand and gang
By haulds, for all his eild. |
| 47 |
Now pass we to the bold beggar,
That raked oer the hill,
Who never mended his pace no more
Nor he had done no ill. |
| 48 |
The young men knew the country well,
So soon where he would be,
And they have taken another way,
Was nearer by miles three. |
| 49 |
They rudely ran with all their might,
Spar'd neither dub nor mire,
They stirred neither at laigh nor hight,
No travel made them tire, |
| 50 |
Till they before the beggar wan,
And coost them in his way;
A little wood lay in a glen,
And there they both did stay. |
| 51 |
They stood up closely by a tree,
In ilk side of the gate,
Until the beggar came them to,
That thought not of such fate. |
| 52 |
And as he was betwixt them past,
They leapt upon him baith;
The one his pike-staff gripped fast,
They feared for its scaith. |
| 53 |
The other he held in his sight
A drawn dirk to his breast,
And said, False carl, quit thy staff,
Or I shall be thy priest. |
| 54 |
His pike-staff they have taken him frae,
And stuck it in the green;
He was full leath to let [it] gae,
If better might have been. |
| 55 |
The beggar was the feardest man
Of one that ever might be;
To win away no way he can,
Nor help him with his tree. |
| 56 |
He wist not wherefore he was tane,
Nor how many was there;
He thought his life-days had been gone,
And grew into despair. |
| 57 |
'Grant me my life,' the beggar said,
'For him that died on tree,
And take away that ugly knife,
Or then for fear I'll die. |
| 58 |
'I grievd you never in all my life,
By late nor yet by ayre;
Ye have great sin,if ye should slay
A silly poor beggar.' |
| 59 |
'Thou lies, false lown,' they said again,
'By all that may be sworn;
Thou hast near slain the gentlest man
That ever yet was born. |
| 60 |
'And back again thou shalt be led,
And fast bound shalt thou be,
To see if he will have thee slain,
Or hanged on a tree.' |
| 61 |
The beggar then thought all was wrong;
They were set for his wrack;
He saw nothing appearing then
But ill upon worse back. |
| 62 |
Were he out of their hands, he thought,
And had again his tree,
He should not be had back for nought,
With such as he did see. |
| 63 |
Then he bethought him on a wile,
If it could take effect,
How he the young men might beguile,
And give them a begeck. |
| 64 |
Thus for to do them shame or ill
His beastly breast was bent;
He found the wind grew something shril,
To further his intent. |
| 65 |
He said, Brave gentlemen, be good,
And let the poor man be;
When ye have taken a beggar's blood,
It helps you not a flee. |
| 66 |
It was but in my own defence,
If he hath gotten skaith;
But I will make a recompence,
Much better for you baith. |
| 67 |
If ye will set me safe and free,
And do me no danger,
An hundred pounds I will you give,
And much more good silver, |
| 68 |
That I have gathered these many years,
Under this clouted cloak,
And hid up wonder privately,
In bottom of my pock. |
| 69 |
The young men to a council yeed,
And let the beggar gae;
They wist how well he had no speed
From them to run away. |
| 70 |
They thought they would the money take,
Come after what so may,
And then they would not bring him back,
But in that part him slay. |
| 71 |
By that good Robin would not know
That they had gotten coin;
It would content him for to show
That there they had him slain. |
| 72 |
They said, False carl, soon have done
And tell forth that money;
For the ill turn thou hast done
'Tis but a simple fee. |
| 73 |
And yet we will not have thee back,
Come after what so may,
If thou will do that which thou spake,
And make us present pay. |
| 74 |
O then loosd his clouted cloak,
And spread it on the ground,
And thereon he laid many a pock,
Betwixt them and the wind. |
| 75 |
He took a great bag from his hase;
It was near full of meal;
Two pecks in it at least there was,
And more, I wot full well. |
| 76 |
Upon his cloak he laid it down,
The mouth he opend wide,
To turn the same he made him bown,
The young men ready spy'd. |
| 77 |
In every hand he took a nook
Of that great leathern meal,
And with a fling the meal he shook
Into their faces hail. |
| 78 |
Wherewith he blinded them so close
A stime they could not see;
And then in heart he did rejoice,
And clapt his lusty tree. |
| 79 |
He thought, if he had done them wrong
In mealing of their cloaths,
For to strike off the meal again
With his pike-staff he goes. |
| 80 |
Or any one of them could red their eyne,
Or yet a glimmering could see,
Ilk ane of them a dozen had,
Well laid on with the tree. |
| 81 |
The young men were right swift of foot,
And boldly ran away;
The beggar could them no more hit,
For all the haste he may. |
| 82 |
'What ails this haste?' the beggar said,
'May ye not tarry still,
Until your money be receivd?
I'll pay you with good will. |
| 83 |
'The shaking of my pocks, I fear,
Hath blown into your eyne;
But I have a good pike-staff here
Will ripe them out full clean.' |
| 84 |
The young men answerd neer a word,
They were dumb as a stane;
In the thick wood the beggar fled,
Eer they riped their eyne. |
| 85 |
And syne the night became so late,
To seek him was but vain:
But judge ye, if they looked blate
When they came home again. |
| 86 |
Good Robin speard how they had sped;
They answerd him, Full ill;
'That cannot be,' good Robin says;
'Ye have been at the mill. |
| 87 |
'The mill is a meatrif place,
They may lick what they please;
Most like ye have been at that art,
Who would look to your cloaths.' |
| 88 |
They hangd their heads, and droped down,
A word they could not speak:
Robin said, Because I fell a-swoon,
I think you'll do the like. |
| 89 |
Tell on the matter, less and more,
And tell me what and how
Ye have done with the bold beggar
I sent you for right now. |
| 90 |
And then they told him to an end,
As I have said before,
How that the beggar did them blind,
What misters process more. |
| 91 |
And how he lin'd their shoulders broad
With his great trenchen tree,
And how in the thick wood he fled,
Eer they a stime could see. |
| 92 |
And how they scarcely could win home,
Their bones were beft so sore:
Good Robin cry'd, Fy! out, for shame!
We're sham'd for evermore. |
| 93 |
Altho good Robin would full fain
Of his wrong revenged be,
He smil'd to see his merry young men
Had gotten a taste of the tree. |
