One of the earliest and perhaps most reliable ballards on Robin Hood is the Gest of Robin Hood, and here is a modern translation.
GEST OF ROBIN HOOD
Pay attention and
listen, gentlemen,
That be of freeborn
blood;
I shall tell you of a
good yeoman,
His name was Robin
Hood.
Robin was a proud
outlaw,
Whilst he walked on the
ground;
So courteous an outlaw
as he was one
Was there never found.
Robin stood in
Barnesdale,
And leaned against a
tree;
And beside him stood
Little John,
A good yeoman was he.
And also did good
Scarlet,
And Much, the miller’s
son;
There was not an inch
of his body
But it was worth a
man’s.
Then up spoke Little
John
Unto Robin Hood;
‘Master, if you would
eat now
It would do you much
good.’
Then to him said good
Robin,
‘To dine I have no
desire;
Until I have some bold
baron,
Or some exotic guest.
Till I have some bold
baron,
That may pay for the
best;
Or some knight or some
squire,
That dwells here in the
West.’
A good custom then had
Robin,
In whatever land he
were,
Every day before he
would dine,
Three masses would he
hear.
The one in worship of
the Father,
And another of the Holy
Ghost;
The third of Our dear
Lady,
That he loved
altogether most.
Robin loved Our dear
Lady;
For fear of deadly sin,
Would he never do a
gathering harm
That any woman was in.
‘Master,’ then said
Little John,
‘Before we our table
shall spread’
Tell us whither we
shall go
And what life we shall
lead –
Where we shall take,
where we shall leave,
Where we shall wait
behind;
Where we shall rob,
where we shall reve (abduct),
Where we shall beat and
bind.’
‘Don’t worry about
that,’ then said Robin,
‘We shall do well
enough;
But look you do no
husbandman harm
That tills with his
plough.
No more shall you no
good yeoman
That walks by the
wood’s green canopy;
Nor no knight nor no
squire
That will be a good
fellow.
These bishops and these
archbishops,
You shall them beat and
bind;
The high sheriff of
Nottingham,
Him hold in your mind.’
‘This word shalbe
heeded,’ said Little John,
‘And this lesson
shall we learn;
It is far gone in the
day, God send us a guest,
So that we can have our
dinner.’
‘Take thy good bow in
thine hand,’ said Robin,
‘Let Much go with
thee;
And so shall William
Scarlet
And no man stay with
me.
And walk up to the
Sayles,
And so to Watling
Street;
And await some exotic
guest,
On the chance you may
them meet.
Be he an earl, or any
baron,
Abbot, or any knight;
Bring him to my lodging
to me,
His dinner shall be
prepared.’
They went up to the
Sayles,
These yeoman all three;
They looked east, they
looked west
They might no man see.
But as they looked into
Barnsdale,
By a secret track;
Then came a knight
riding –
Very soon they did him
meet.
Miserable was his
appearance,
And little was his
pride;
His one foot in the
stirrup set,
And the other hung
beside.
His hood hung in his
eyes two,
He rode in simple array
(clothing);
A sorrier man than he
was one,
Rode never in a
summer’s day.
Little John was very
curteous,
And went down on his
knee;
‘Welcome be ye,
gentle knight,
Welcome you are to me.
Welcome be ye to the
greenwood,
Gracious knight and
free (noble, generous);
My master has awaited
you fasting
Sir, all these hours
three.’
‘Who is your master?’
said the knight.
John said, ‘Robin
Hood.’
‘He is a good
yeoman,’ said the knight,
‘Of him I have heard
much good.’
‘I grant’, he said,
‘with you to wend (go)
My brothers, all
together;
My purpose was to have
dined today
At Blithe or
Doncaster.’
Forth then went this
gentle knight,
With a troubled cheer
(countenance);
The teers out of his
eyes ran,
And fell down his face.
They brought him to the
lodge door,
When Robin did him see,
Most curteously he took
of his hood,
And went down on his
knee.
‘Welcome, sir
knight’, said Robin,
‘Welcome you are to
me,’
I have awaited you
fasting, sir,
All these hours three.’
Then answered the
gentle knight,
With words fair and
free (noble, gracious);
‘God thee save, good
Robin,
And all your fair
company.’
They washed together
and both wiped (their hands),
And sat down to their
dinner;
Bread and wine they had
right enough,
And mumbles (entrails)
of the deer.
Swans and pheasants
they enjoyed,
And birds of the river;
And not even the
smallest bird was missing,
That ever bred on a
briar.
‘Enjoy your food,’
said Robin,
‘Many thanks, sir,’
said he;
‘Such a dinner I have
not had
In all these weeks
three.
If I come again, good
Robin,
Here by this country,
As good a dinner I
shall thee make
As thou hast made for
me.’
‘Many thanks, sir
knight,’ said Robin;
‘My dinner, when I it
have,
I was never so greedy,
by the great dear God,
My dinner for to crave.
But pay before you go,’
said Robin,
‘I think that it is
right;
It was never the
custom, by the great good God,
A yeoman to pay for a
knight.’
‘I have nothing in my
coffers,’
said the knight,
‘That I may offer,
for shame.’
‘Little John, go
look,’ said Robin,
‘Do not be made to
delay.
Tell me the truth’,
then said Robin,
‘As God is witness to
thee;’
‘I have no more than
ten shillings,’ said the knight,
‘As God is witness to
me.’
‘If you have no
more,’ said Robin,
‘I will not have one
penny;
And if you have need of
any more,
More shall I lend thee.
Go now, Little John,
The truth tell to me;
I there be no more than
ten shillings,
No penny that I may
see.’
Little John took off
his cloak
And spread it on the
ground,
And there he found in
the knight’s coffer (travelling box)
Only half a pound.
Little John let it lie
undisturbed,
And went to his master,
bowing low;
‘What tidings, John?’
said Robin,
‘Sir, the knight says
true enough.’
‘Fill a cup of the
best wine,’ said Robin,
‘The knight to talk
shall begin;
It is a great wonder,
thinketh me,
Thy clothing is so
thin.
Tell me one word,’
said Robin,
‘And secret it shall
be;
I guess you were made a
knight by force,
Or else are of
yeomanry.
Or else you have been a
bad husband,
And lived in stroke and
strife;
A userer, or else a
lecher,’ said Robin,
‘With wrong hast led
thy life.’
‘I am none of those,’
said the knight,
‘By God that made me;
An hundred winters here
before
My ancestors knights
have been.
But often it has
happened, Robin,
That a man has been
downgraded;
But God that sits in
heaven above,
May put right his
state.
Within these two years,
Robin,’ he said,
‘My neighbours it
well know,
Four hundred pounds of
good money
I might very well
spend.
Now I have no
possessions,’ said the knight,
‘God has shaped such
an end,
My wife and children
suffer
Till God it may amend.’
‘In what manner,’
then said Robin,
‘Have you lost your
riches?’
‘By my great folly,’
he said,
‘And by my kindness.
I had a son, in truth,
Robin
Who should have been my
heir;
When he was twenty
winters old
In the field he wanted
to joust full fair.’
‘He killed a knight
of Lancaster,
And a squire bold;
In order to save him in
his rights
My goods I pledged and
sold.
My lands are put in
pledge, Robin,
Against a certain day,
To a rich abbot here
beside
Of Saint Mary’s
Abbey.’
‘What is the sum?’
said Robin,
‘The truth tell to
me;’
‘Sir,’ he said,
‘four hundred pounds;
The abbot told it to
me.’
‘Now if you lose your
land,’ said Robin,
‘What will happen to
thee?’
‘Hastily I will take
myself off,’ said the knight,
‘Over the salt sea,
And see where Christ
was alive and dead,
On the mount of
Calvary;
Farewell, friend, and
have good day;
It may no better be.’
Teers fell out of his
two eyes;
He would have gone on
his way;
‘Farewell, friend,
and have good day;
I have no more to pay.’
‘Where are your
friends?’ said Robin;
‘Sir, no-one me will
know;
Whilst I was rich
enough at home
Great boasts would they
make,
And now they run away
from me
Like beasts in a row;
They take no more heed
of me
Than if they had never
seen me.’
For pity then wept
Little John,
Scarlet and Much
together;
‘Fill up with the
best wine,’ said Robin,
‘For here is simple
fare.’
‘Have you any
friend?’ said Robin,
‘Thy pledge who would
be?’
‘I have none,’ then
said the knight,
‘But God, who died on
the Tree.’
‘Away with your
tricks,’ then said Robin Hood,
‘Therof I will right
none;
Do you think I would
have God as a pledge,
Peter, Paul, or John?
No, by him who made me,
And shaped both son and
moon,
Find me a better
pledge,’ said Robin,
Or money gettest thou
none.’
‘I have no other,’
said the knight,
‘The truth for to
say,
Unless it be Our dear
Lady;
She failed me never
before this day.’
‘By the great good
God,’ said Robin,
‘I searched
throughout all England,
Yet I never found, to
my liking,
A much better pledge.
Come forth now, Little
John,
And go to my treasure,
and bring me four
hundred pounds,
And look it be counted
well.’
Forth then went Little
John,
And Scarlet went
before;
He counted out four
hundred pounds,
By eight and twenty
score.
‘Is this well
counted?’ said little Much,
John said, ‘What
grieveth thee?
It is alms to help a
gentle knight
That is fallen in
poverty.
Master,’ then said
Little John,
‘His clothing is very
thin;
You must give the
knight a livery
To help his body
therein.
For you have scarlet
and green, master,
And many a rich array;
There is no merchant in
merry England,
So rich, I dare well
say.’
‘Take him three yards
of every colour,
And look well measured
it be.’
Little John took no
other measure
But his bow-tree
(shaft).
At at every handful
that he measured
He leapt three feet –
‘What devil’s
draper,’ said little Much
‘Do you think for to
be?’
Scarlet stood very
still and laughed,
And said, ‘By God
Almighty,
John may give him good
measure,
Because it’s costing
him very little!’
‘Master,’ then said
Little John,
To gentle Robin Hood;
‘You must give the
knight a horse
To carry home these
goods.’
‘Take him a grey
courser,’ said Robin,
‘And a saddle new;
He is Our Lady’s
messenger –
God grant that he be
true.’
‘And a good palfrey,’
said little Much,
‘To maintain him in
his right.’
‘And a pair of
boots,’ said Scarlet,
‘For he is a gentle
knight.’
‘What will you give
him, Little John?’
said Robin,
‘Sir a pair of gilt
spurs shining,
To pray for all this
company;
God bring him out of
trouble.’
‘When shall my day
be?’ (for paying back), said the knight,
‘Sir, according to
your will?’
‘Twelve months from
today,’ said Robin,
‘Under this greenwood
tree.
It would be a great
shame,’ said Robin,
‘A knight alone to
ride,
Without a squire,
yeoman or page,
To walk by his side..
I shall lend thee
Little John, my man,
For he shall be your
knave (servant),
In a yeoman’s stead
he may thee stand,
If thou great need
have.’
Fytte Two
Now has the knight gone
on his way,
The game he thought
very good;
When he looked on
Barnsdale,
He blessed Robin Hood.
And when he thought of
Barnsdale,
Of Scarlet, Much and
John;
He blessed them for the
best company
That ever he was come
in.
Then spoke that gentle
knight;
To Little John he did
say;
‘Tomorrow I must to
York town,
To Saint Mary’s
Abbey.
And to the abbot of
that place
Four hundred pounds
must I pay;
And unless I’m there
upon this night,
My land is lost for
ever.’
The abbot said to his
convent,
Where he stood on the
ground,
‘This day twelve
months ago there came a knight,
And borrowed four
hundred pounds.
He borrowed four
hundred pounds
Upon all his land free;
Unless he comes this
very day
Disinherited shall he
be.’
‘It is very early,’
said the prior,
‘The day is not yet
far gone;
I had rather pay a
hundred pound,
And lie down now.
The knight is far
beyond the sea;
In England is his
right,
He suffers hunger and
cold,
And many a miserable
night.
It would be a great
pity,’ said the prior,
‘In this way to have
his land;
If you be so light in
your conscience,
You do to him much
wrong.’
‘You’re always
getting up my nose!’ said the abbot,
‘By God and Saint
Richard;’
With that came in a
fat-headed monk,
The high cellarer.
‘He is dead or
hanged,’ said the monk,
‘By God that bought
me dear,
And we shall have to
spend in this place,
Four hundred pounds a
year.’
The abbot and the high
cellarer
Leapt forth right bold,
The justice of England
The abbot there did
hold.
The high justice and
many more
They had taken into
their hand
Wholly all the knight’s
debt,
To put that knight in
the wrong.
They judged the knight
very wrongly
The abbot and his
followers;
‘Unless he comes this
very day,
Disinherited shall he
be.’
‘He will not come
yet,’ said the justice,
I dare well undertake.’
But in a sorrowful time
for them all
The knight came to the
gate.
Then up spoke this
gentle knight
To his company;
‘Now put on your
simple clothes
That you brought from
the sea.’
They put on their
simple clothes
They came at once to
the gates;
The porter was ready
himself,
And welcomed them every
one.
‘Welcome, sir
knight,’ said the porter,
‘My lord at dinner is
he,
And so is many a gentle
man
For the love of thee.’
The porter swore a
great big oath;
‘By God that made me,
Here is the best-built
horse
That ever yet I saw.
Lead them into the
stable,’ he said,
‘That rested might
they be;’
‘They shall not come
therein,’ said the knight,
‘By God that died on
a Tree.’
Lords were sitting at
their meal
In that abbot’s hall;
The knight went forth
and kneeled down
And saluted them great
and small.
‘Good day, sir
abbot,’ said the knight,
‘I have come to keep
my day.’
The first word the
abbot spoke,
‘Have you brought my
pay?’
‘Not one penny,’
said the knight,
‘By God that made
me.’
‘You are a wicked
debtor,’ said the abbot,
‘Sir justice, drink
to me.
What are you doing
here,’ said the abbot,
‘If you have not
brought your pay?’
‘For God,’ then
said the knight
‘To pray for a longer
day (extension of the loan).’
‘Your day is broken,’
said the justice,
‘Land you will get
none.’
‘Now, good sir
justice, be my friend,
And defend me from my
foes.’
‘I take sides with
the abbot,’ said the justice,
‘Both with cloth and
fee.’
‘Now, good sir
sheriff, be my friend.’
‘Nay, for God,’
said he.
‘Now, good sir abbot,
be my friend,
For your courtesy,
And hold my lands in
your hand,
Till I have given you
satisfaction.
And I will be your true
servant,
And truly serve thee,
Until you have four
hundred pounds
Of money good and
free.’
The abbot swore a great
big oath,
‘By God that died on
a Tree,
Get the land how you
may,
For you will get none
of me.’
‘By the dear worthy
God,’ then said the knight,
‘That all this world
made,
Unless I have my land
again
Very dearly it shall be
bought.
God, who was of a
virgin born,
Grant us well to speed.
Because it is good to
try a friend
When a man has need.’
The abbot hatefully on
him looked,
And evilly began to
call;
‘Out,’ he said,
‘you false knight,
Hurry up out of my
hall!’
‘Thou liest,’ then
said the gentle knight,
‘Abbot, in thy hall;
False knight was I
never,
By God that made us
all.’
Then up stood that
gentle knight,
To the abbot said he,
‘To suffer a knight
to kneel so long,
Thou knowest no
courtesy.
In jousts and in
tournaments
A very long way have I
been,
And put myself as far
in the melee
As any that ever I have
seen.’
‘What, will you give
more?’ said the justice,
‘And the knight shall
make his release?
And unless you do I
dare safely swear
You’ll never hold
your land in peace.’
‘A hundred pounds,’
said the abbot,
The justice said, ‘Give
him two;’
‘Nay, by God,’ said
the knight,
‘You will not get it
like that.
Though you would give a
thousand more,
Yet it wouldn’t
benefit you –
There shall never be my
heir
Abbot, justice, nor
friar.’
He leapt up to a table
at once
To a table round;
And there he shook out
of a bag
Exactly four hundred
pounds.
‘Have here thy gold,
sir abbot,’ said the knight,
‘Which thou lentest
me;
Hadst thou been
courteous at my coming
Rewarded shuldest thou
have been.’
The abbot sat still,
and ate no more,
For all his royal fare;
He laid his head upon
his shoulder
And immediately began
to stare.
‘Give me back my
gold,’ said the abbot,
‘Sir justice, that I
gave thee.’
‘Not a penny,’ said
the justice,
‘By God that died on
the Tree.’
‘Sir abbot, and you
men of law
Now have I kept my day;
Now shall I have my
land again
For ought that you can
say.’
The knight went out of
the door,
Away was all his care;
And on he put his good
clothing,
The other he left
there.
He went out singing
merrily,
As men have told in the
tale;
His lady met him at the
gate
At home in Verysdale.
‘Welcome, my lord,’
said his lady,
‘Sir, are all your
possessions lost?’
‘Be merry, wife,’
said the knight,
‘And pray for Robin
Hood,
That his soul shall
ever be in bliss,
He helped me out of
trouble;
If it had not been for
his kindness,
Beggars would we have
been.
The abbot and I are
accorded,
He has been given his
pay;
The good yeoman lent it
to me,
As I came by the way.’
The knight then lived
well at home,
The truth for to say,
Till he had got four
hundred pounds,
All ready for to pay.
He got himself a
hundred bows,
The stings well
maintained,
A hundred sheafs of
good arrows,
The heads burnished
very bright.
And every arrow an ell
long,
With peacock feathers
well dressed;
Worked all over with
white silver;
It was a seemly sight.
He got himself a
hundred men
Well harnessed in that
place;
And himself amongst
them sat,
Clothed in white and
red.
He carried a lance in
his hand,
And a man led his
trunk,
And they rode with a
merry song
Towards Barnsdale.
But as he went over a
bridge there was a wrestling-match,
And there delayed was
he;
And there were all the
best yeomen
Of all the west
country.
A very fair contest was
set up there,
A white bull was set
up,
A great courser, with
saddle and bridle,
With gold burnished
very bright.
A pair of gloves, a red
gold ring,
A pipe of wine, in
truth;
The man that does the
best, I understand,
The prize shall bear
away.
There was a yeoman in
that place,
And most worthy was he,
And because he was a
stranger and disadvantaged by this,
Slayn he was likely to
be.
The knight had pity on
this yeoman
In the place where he
stood,
He sayde that yeoman
should not be harmed,
For love of Robin Hood.
The knight pushed into
the place,
A hundred followed him
freely,
With bows bent and
arrows sharp,
To attack that company.
They shouldered their
arms and made him room,
To see what he would
say;
He took the yeoman by
the hand,
And gave him all the
prize.
He gave him five marks
for his wine,
Where it lay on the
earth,
And ordered it should
be broached,
So all who would could
drink.
Thus long tarried this
gentle knight,
Until that play was
done,
So long waited Robin
fasting
Three hours after noon.
Fytte Three
Pay attention and
listen, gentle men,
All who are now here;
Of Little John, who was
the knight’s man,
Good mirth ye shall
hear.
It was upon a merry day
That young men would go
shoot;
Little John fetched his
bow at once,
And said he would them
meet.
Three times Little John
joined the shooting,
And always he slit the
wand (split the arrow);
The proud sheriff of
Nottingham
Will have to pay up.
The sheriff swore a
great big oath,
‘By him that died on
the Tree,
This man is the best
archer
That ever yet saw we.
Tell me now, brave
young man,
Now, what is thy name?
In what country
(region) were thou born,
And where is your
dwelling place?’
‘In Holderness, sir,
I was born
I knew this from my
dame (mother);
Men call me Reynold
Greenleaf
When I am at home.’
‘Tell me, Reynold
Greenleaf,
Would you live with me?
And every year I will
thee give
Twenty marks as thy
fee.’
‘I have a master,’
said Little John,
‘A curteous knight is
he;
If you may get
permission from him,
The better it may be.’
The sheriff got Little
John
Twelve months from the
knight;
Therefore he gave him
right then and there
A good horse and a
wight (manservant).
Now is Little John the
sheriff’s man,
God let us all well
speed!
But Little John was
always thinking
How to pay him back his
deserts.
‘Now so help me God,’
said Little John,
‘And by my true
loyalty,
I shall be the worst
servant to him
That ever yet had he.’
It fell upon a
Wednesday,
The sheriff hunting was
gone;
And Little John lay in
his bed,
And was forgotten, at
home.
Therefore he was
fasting,
Till it was past noon.
‘Good sir steward, I
pray thee,
Give me my dinner,’
said Little John.
‘It is a long time
for Greenleaf
Fasting for to be;
Therefore I pray thee,
sir steward,
My dinner give to me..’
‘Thou shalt never eat
nor drink,’ said the steward,
Till my lord is come to
town.’
‘I make my vow to
God,’ said Little John,
‘I’d rather crack
your crown!’
The butler was very
discurteous,
Where he stood on the
floor,
He leapt up to the
buttery
And shut fast the door.
Little John gave the
butler such a tap
His back went nearly in
two;
Though he were to live
a hundred years,
The worse he wouldn’t
know.
He pushed the door with
his foot,
It opened wide and fine
And he was able to take
a large allowance
Both of ale and of
wine.
‘Since you will not
dine,’ said Little John,
‘I shall give you
drink,
And if you live a
hundred winters
On Little John you will
think.’
Little John ate, and
Little John drank,
As long as he liked.
The sheriff had in his
kitchen a cook,
A stout man and a bold.
‘I make my vow to
god,’ said the cook,
‘Thou art an evil
servant
In any house for to
dwell,
To ask in this way to
dine.’
And then he gave Little
John
Good strokes three;
‘I make my vow to
God,’ said Little John,
‘These strokes well
liked me.
Thou art a bold man and
a hardy,
And so thinketh me;
And before I pass from
this place,
Better tried shalt thou
be.’
Little John drew a very
good sword
The cook took another
in his hand;
They had no thought for
to flee,
But unyielding for to
stand.
There they fought
bitterly together,
Across two miles and
more,
Neither might do the
other harm,
Though they fought for
an hour.
‘I make my vow to
God,’ said Little John,
‘And by my true
loyalty,
Thou art one of the
best swordsmen
That ever yet saw we.
If thou couldst shoot
as well with a bow
Into the greenwood thou
shouldest come with me,
And two times a year
thy clothing
Changed should be.
And every year from
Robin Hood
Twenty marks for your
fee.’
‘Put up thy sword,’
said the cook,
‘And fellows
(brothers) will we be.’
Then he fetched to
Little John
The mumbles of a doe;
Good bread, and very
good wine,
They ate and drank
thereto.
And when they had drunk
well,
Their word to each
other they plight (swore)
That they would be with
Robin
That very same night.
Then they went to the
treasure house,
As fast as they could
go;
The locks, that were of
very good steel,
They broke them every
one.
They took away the
silver vessels
And all that they might
get,
Pieces, goblets, nor
spoons,
Would they not forget.
Also they took good
money,
Three hundred pounds
and more;
And took them straight
to Robin Hood,
Under the misty
greenwood.
‘God save thee, my
dear master,
And Christ protect and
save you!’
And then said Robin to
Little John,
‘Welcome may thou be.
Also be that fair
yeoman,
Thou bringest there
with thee;
What tidings from
Nottingham?
Little John, tell thou
me.’
‘The proud sheriff
greets you well,
And sends you here by
me
His cook and his silver
vessels,
And three hundred
pounds and three.’
‘I make my vow to
God,’ said Robin,
‘And to the Trinity;
It was never by his
goodwill
These goods have come
to me.’
Little John then
thought
Of a crafty trick;
Five miles through the
forest he ran –
And it happened as he
devised.
Then he met the proud
sheriff,
Hunting with hounds and
horn,
Little John knew his
courtesy,
And knelt him down
before.
‘God save thee, my
dear master,
And Christ save and
protect thee!’
‘Reynold Greenleaf,’
said the sheriff,
‘Where have you just
been?’
‘I have been in this
forest,
A fair sight I did see;
It was one of the
fairest sights
That ever yet I saw me.
Yonder I saw a right
fair hart
His colour is of green;
Seven score of deer in
a herd
Are with him all
together.
Their tines (antlers)
are so sharp, master,
Of sixty and even more;
That I dared not shoot
for dread
In case they would me
kill.’
‘I make my vow to
God,’ said the sheriff,
‘That sight I’d
like to see!’
‘Hurry this way, my
dear master,
At once, and go with
me!.
The sheriff rode, and
Little John
Of foot he was very
swift.
And when they came
before Robin
‘Lo, sir, here is the
master hart!’
Still stood the proud
sheriff,
A sorry man was he;
‘A plague on thee,
Reynold Greenleaf,
Now thou hast betrayed
me.’
‘I make my vow to
God,’ said Little John,
‘Master, you are to
blame,
I was not served well
of my dinner,
When I was with you at
home.’
Soon he was sitting at
supper,
And served well with
silver white,
And when the sheriff
saw his vessels,
For sorrow he might not
eat.
‘Cheer up,’ said
Robin Hood,
‘Sheriff, for
charity!
And for the love of
Little John
Thy life I grant to
thee!’
When they had eaten
well,
The day was all gone;
Robin commanded Little
John
To take off his hose
and his shoes.
His robe and his short
jacket,
That was well furred
and fine;
And took him a green
cloak
To wrap his body
therein.
Robin commanded his
bold young men,
Under the greenwood
tree,
They should lie down in
that same way,
So the sheriff might
them see.
All night lay the proud
sheriff
In his breeches and his
shirt;
No wonder it was, in
the greenwood,
That his sides began to
smart.
‘Cheer up,’ said
Robin Hood,
‘Sheriff, for
charity!
For this is the way we
do things, I tell you,
Under the greenwood
tree.’
‘This is a harder
way,’ said the sheriff,
‘Than any anchorite
or friar;
For all the gold in
merry England
I wouldn’t stay
longer here.’
‘All these twelve
months,’ said Robin,
‘You shall dwell with
me;
I will teach you, proud
sheriff,
An outlaw for to be.’
‘Before I stay here
another night,’ said the sheriff,
‘Robin, I pray thee’
Cut off my head rather,
tomorrow,
And I’ll forgive it
thee.’
‘Let me go,’ then
said the sheriff,
‘For Saint Charity!
And I will be thy best
friend
That ever yet had ye.’
‘Thou shalt swear me
an oath,’ said Robin,
‘On my bright brand
(sword),
That you will never do
me harm,
By water nor by land.
And if thou find any of
my men
By night or day,
Upon thine oath thou
shalt swear,
To help them all thou
may.’
Now has the sheriff
sworn his oath,
And home began to go;
He’d had his fill of
the greenwood
As if he’d been full
of stone.
Fytte Four
The sheriff dwelt in
Nottingham,
He was glad he had
gone;
And Robin and his merry
men
Went to the wood at
once.
‘Go we to dinner,’
said Little John,
Robin Hood said, ‘Nay’
For I fear Our Lady is
angry with me –
For she sent me not my
pay.’
‘Have no doubt,
master,’ said Little John,
‘The sun is not yet
at rest;
For I dare say, and
confidently swear,
The knight is true and
trustworthy.’
‘Take thy bow in thy
hand,’ said Robin,
Let Much go with thee,
And so shall Will
Scarlet,
And no one stay with
me.
And walk up under the
Sayles
And to Watling Street,
And look out for some
exotic guest,
On the chance you may
them meet.
Whether he is a
messenger,
Or a man who can
entertain,
Or if he is a poor man
Of my goods he shall
have some.’
Forth then went Little
John,
Half in anger and
annoyance,
And girded him with a
very good sword,
Under a cloak of green.
They went up to the
Sayles,
These yeomen all three;
They looked east, they
looked west –
They might no man see.
But as they looked into
Barnsdale,
By the highway,
Then they were aware of
two black monks,
Each on a good palfrey.
Then up spoke Little
John,
To Much he did say,
‘I dare lay my life
in pledge,
That these monks have
brought our pay.’
‘Be of good cheer,’
said Little John,
‘And ready our bows
of yew,
And look your hearts be
strong and sober,
Your strings trusty and
true.
The monk has two and
fifty men,
And seven packhorses
strong;
There rides no bishop
in this land
So royally, as I
reckon.
Brethren,’ said
Little John,
‘Here are no more
than we three;
Unless we bring them to
dinner,
Our master we may not
see.
Bend your bows,’ said
Little John,
‘Together you must
stand;
The monk at the front,
his life and his death,
Are held in my hand.
Stop, churl monk,’
said Little John,
‘Do not go any
further;
If thou dost, by dear
worthy God,
Thy death is in my
hand.
Bad luck on your head,’
said Little John,
‘Right under your hat
band!
For thou hast made our
master angry,
He has fasted so long.’
‘Who is your master?’
said the monk.
Little John said,
‘Robin Hood.’
‘He is a strong
thief,’ said the monk,
‘Of him heard I never
good.’
‘Thou liest,’ said
then Little John,
‘And you shall sorry
be;
He is a yeoman of the
forest,
And to dinner he’s
invited thee.’
Much was ready with a
bolt
Quickly and at once,
He aimed at the monk’s
breast
So he got down on the
ground.
Of two and fifty bold
young men
There remained not one,
Except a little page
and a groom,
To lead the revels with
Little John.
They brought the monk
to the lodge door,
Whether he wanted to or
not;
To speak with Robin
Hood,
Despite their
resistance.
Robin took off his
hood,
When he monk did see;
The monk was not so
courteous,
He let his hood be.
‘He is a churl,
master, by dear worthy God,’
Said then Little John,
‘No matter,’ said
Robin,
‘Because courtesy he
knows none.
How many men,’ said
Robin,
‘Had this monk,
John?’
‘Fifty and two when
we met,
But many of them have
gone.’
‘Have a horn blown,’
said Robin,
‘That the fellowship
may us know.’
Seven score of bold
yeomen
Came riding in a row.
And each of them a good
cloak
Of scarlet and of
stripes;
They all came to Robin,
To know what he had to
say.
They made the monk to
wash and wipe,
And sit down to his
dinner;
Robin Hood and Little
John,
They served him both
together.
‘Eat up, monk,’
said Robin,
‘Many thanks, sir,’
said he,
‘Where is your abbey,
when you are at home,
And who is your
patron?’
‘Saint Mary’s
Abbey,’ said the monk,
‘Though I appear
humble here.’
‘In what office?’
said Robin.
‘Sir, the high
cellarer.’
‘You are the more
welcome,’ said Robin,
‘As I may prosper me;
Fill up with the best
wine,’ said Robin,
‘This monk shall
drink to me.
But I wonder greatly,’
said Robin,
‘All through this
long day’
I fear Our Lady is
angry with me,
She sent me not my
pay.’
‘Have no doubt,
master,’ said Little John,
‘You have no need, I
say
This monk has brought
it, I dare well swear,
For his is from her
abbey.’
‘And she was a
pledge,’ said Robin,
‘Between a knight and
me,
For a little money that
I lent him,
Under the greenwood
tree.
And if thou hast that
silver brought,
I pray thee, let me
see.
And I shall thee soon
enough,
If thou have need of
me.’
The monk swore a great
big oath,
With very little cheer;
‘Of the borrowing of
which thou spekest to me,
Have I never heard
before.’
‘ I make my vow to
God,’ said Robin,
‘Monk, thou art to
blame;
For God is considered a
righteous man;
And so is his dame
(mother).
Thou said to me with
thine own tongue,
Thou may not say nay,
How thou art her
servant,
And servest her every
day.
And thou art made her
messenger,
My money for to pay,
Therefore I owe you the
more thanks
That thou art come my
way.
What is in your
coffers?’ said Robin,
‘Truly, then, tell
thou me.’
‘Sir,’ he said,
‘twenty marks,
As I hope to thrive.’
‘If there be no
more,’ said Robin,
‘I do no want a
penny;
If you have need of any
more,
Sir, more I will lend
to thee.’
‘And If I find more,’
said Robin,
‘I judge you shall go
without it,
For of your spending
silver, monk,
I do not want any.
Now go, Little John,
And the truth tell thou
to me –
If there be no more
than twenty marks,
I do not want a penny.’
Little John spread his
cloak out,
As he had done before,
And he counted out of
the monk’s purse
Eight hundred pounds
and more.
Little John let it lie
undisturbed,
And went to his master
in haste;
‘Sir,’ he said,
‘the monk is true enough –
Our Lady has doubled
your cast (bet).’
‘I make my vow to
God,’ said Robin,
‘Monk, what did I
tell thee?
Our Lady is the truest
woman
That ever yet I found
me.
By dear worthy God,’
said Robin,
‘If I seek all
England through,
Yet I’ve never found
for all my pay
A much better pledge.
Fill up with the best
wine, and give him a drink,’ said Robin,
‘And greet well your
gracious lady.
If she has need of
Robin Hood
She will find him a
friend.
And if she needs any
more silver,
Come thou again to me;
And, by this token she
hath me sent
She shall have of such
tokens three.’
The monk was going to
London – ward,
There to hold a great
assembly,
the knight that rode so
high on his horse,
To bring him under his
foot.
‘Where are you
going,’ said Robin,
‘Sir, to manors in
this land,
To reckon with our
reeves
That have done much
wrong.’
‘Come forth, now,
Little John,
And listen to my tale
A better yeoman I know
none,
To search a monk’s
bag.
How much is in yonder
other courser?
The truth we must see.’
‘By Our Lady,’ then
said the monk,
‘That would not be
courtesy,
To ask a man to dinner,
And then him beat and
bind.’
‘It is our ancient
custom,’ said Robin,
‘To leave but little
behind.’
The monk spurred on his
horse,
He would no longer
abide,
‘Come and drink,’
then said Robin,
‘Before you further
ride.’
‘Nay, for God,’
then said the monk,
‘I’m sorry I came
so near;
For better value I
might have dined
In Blyth or Doncaster.’
‘Greet well your
abbot,’ said Robin,
‘And your prior, I
you pray,
And bid him send me
such a monk
To dinner every day.’
Now we’ll leave that
monk alone,
And speak we of the
knight;
Yet he came to keep his
day,
Whilst it was still
light.
He went straight to
Barnsdale,
Under the greenwood
tree,
And he found there
Robin Hood,
And all his merry men.
The knight got down off
his good palfrey,
When Robin he did see;
So courteously he
doffed his hood,
And got down on his
knee.
‘God save thee, Robin
Hood,
And all this company.’
‘You are welcome,
gentle knight,
And right welcome to
me.’
Then Robin Hood spoke
to him,
To that knight so free;
‘What need drives you
to the greenwood,
I pray thee, sir
knight, tell me.
And you are welcome,
gentle knight,
Why did you take so
long?’
‘Because the abbot
and the justice Would have had my land.’
‘Hast thou thy land
again?’ said Robin,
‘Truth then tell to
me.’
‘Yes, for God,’
said the knight,
‘And for that I thank
God and thee.
But take not offence,’
said the knight,
‘That I have been so
long;
I came by a wrestling
match,
And there I helped a
poor yeoman,
Who was beset by
wrong.’
‘Nay, for God,’
said Robin,
‘Sir knight, for that
I thank thee,
Whatever man helps a
good yeoman,
His friend then will I
be.’
‘Have here four
hundred pounds,’ then said the knight,
‘The which you lent
to me;
And here is also twenty
marks
For your courtesy.’
‘Nay, for God,’
then said Robin,
‘Thou enjoy it well
for ever;
For Our Lady, by her
high cellarer,
Has sent to me my pay.
If I took it twice,
It would be shame to
me;
But truly, gentle
knight,
Welcome you are to me.’
When Robin had told his
tale,
He laughed and had good
cheer;
‘By my truth,’ then
said the knight,
‘Your money is ready
here.’
‘Enjoy it well,’
said Robin,
‘Thou gentle knight
so free;
And welcome be thou,
gentle knight,
Under my trysting tree.
But what shall these
bowmen do,’ said Robin,
And these arrows
feathered free?’
‘By God,’ then said
the knight,
‘A poor present to
thee.’
‘Come forth now,
Little John,
And go to my treasure,
And bring me there four
hundred pounds,
The monk over-paid me.
Have here four hundred
pounds,
Thou gentle knight and
true,
And buy a good horse
and harness,
And gild thy spurs
anew.
And if you lack any
spending money,
Come to Robin Hood,
And by my troth thou
shalt not be without,
Whilst I have any
goods.
And use well thy four
hundred pound
Which I lent to thee;
And make thyself no
more so bare,
By counsel of me.’
Thus then helped him
good Robin,
The knight out of his
care;
God, that sits in
heaven high,
Grant us well to fare.
Fytte Five
Now has the knight
taken his leave
And gone on his way;
Robin Hood and his
merry men
Did nothing special for
many a day.
Listen well, gentlemen,
And listen to what I
say;
How the proud sheriff
of Nottingham
Announced a noble game.
That all the best
archers of the North
Should come together
one day,
And they that shot the
best of all
Should carry the prize
away.
He that shoots best of
all
The furthest, clean and
low,
At a pair of godly
targets
Under the greenwood
leaves,
A very good arrow he
shall have,
The shaft of white
silver,
The head and the
feathers of rich red gold;
In England is not its
like.
This then heard good
Robin,
Under his trysting
tree;
‘Make you ready, you
goodly young men,
That shooting will I
see.
Make ready, my merry
young men,
You shall go with me;
And I will know the
sheriff’s worth,
Whether true he be.’
When they had bent
their bows
And feathered their
arrows,
Seven score of Robin’s
young men
Stood by Robin’s
knee.
When they came to
Nottingham
The courses were good
and long,
Many was the bold
archer
That shot with bows
strong.
‘There shall but six
shoot with me,
The others shall keep
look-out;
And stand with good
bows bent,
That I be not
deceived.’
The fourth outlaw began
to bend his bow,
And that was Robin
Hood,
And that beheld the
good sheriff,
As he stood by the
target.
Three times Robin shot
about,
And always he slit the
shaft,
And so did good Gilbert
With the white hand.
Little John and good
Scarlett
Were good archers, and
noble,
Little Much and good
Reynold,
The worst they would
not be.
When they had shot
about,
These archers handsome
and good,
Evermore was the best,
Truly, Robin Hood.
He was awarded the
goodly arrow,
For the most worthy was
he:
He took the gift so
courteously
And would return to the
greenwood.
They raised a hue and
cry for Robin Hood,
And began to blow great
horns:
‘Woe to you,
treason!’ said Robin,
You are right evil to
know.
And woe to you, proud
sheriff,
Making so light of your
word;
You promised otherwise
to me
In yonder wild forest.
If I but had you in the
greenwood,
Under my trysting tree,
You should give me a
better pledge,
Than your true
obedience’.
Many bows there were
bent,
And arrows they set
off;
Many a garment there
was rent,
And hurt was many a
side.
The outlaws shot so
strongly
That no man could drive
them away;
And the proud sheriff’s
men
They fled quickly away.
Robin saw the ambush
was broken
In the greenwood he
would be;
Many an arrow there was
shot
Amongst that company.
Little John was hurt
very badly,
With an arrow in his
knee;
So that he could
neither run nor ride
It was a great pity.
‘ Master,’ then
said Little John,
‘If ever you love me,
And for that same
Lord’s love
That died upon a Tree,
And for the rewards of
my service,
That I have served
thee;
Never let the proud
sheriff
Alive now find me.
But take out thy brown
sword
And completely cut off
my head
And give me wounds deep
and wide
Leave no life in me.’
‘I don’t want
that,’ said Robin,
‘John, for you to be
killed,
For all the gold in
Merry England,
Though it lay here in a
row.’
‘God forbid,’ said
little Much,
‘That died on a Tree,
That you should, Little
John,
Leave our company’.
He took him up on his
back
And carried him a good
mile
Many a time he laid him
down,
And shot a little
while.
Then was there a fair
castle,
A little way into the
wood,
Double-ditched around
it was,
And walled, by the
Rood.
And there lived that
noble knight
Sir Richard atte Lee,
To whom Robin had lent
his goods
Under the greenwood
tree.
He took in good Robin
And all his company;
‘Welcome are you,
Robin Hood,
Welcome you are to me!
And I thank you very
much for your help,
And for your courtesy,
And for your great
kindness,
Under the greenwood
tree.
I love no man more in
all this world
As much as I do thee;
Despite the great
sheriff of Nottingham,
Here you’ll alright
be.
Shut the gates, draw up
the bridge,
And let no man come in,
And arm you well, and
make you ready,
And take your places on
the walls.
For one thing, Robin, I
ask you,
I swear by St. Quentin;
These forty days you’ll
stay with me,
To sup, eat and dine.’
Tables were laid, and
clothes spread out,
Quickly and right away;
Robin Hood and his
merry men
Went to eat their meal.
Fytte Six
Listen and pay
attention, gentlemen,
And listen to your
song;
How the proud sheriff
of Nottingham
And well-armed soldiers
Came very quickly to
the high sheriff,
To stir up the country,
And they besieged the
knight’s castle,
All around the walls.
The proud sheriff began
to cry out,
And said, ‘You
traitor knight,
You are keeping here
the king’s enemies,
Against the law and
right.’
‘Sir, I will pledge
to what I have done,
The deeds that here are
done,
With all the lands that
I have,
As I am a true knight.
Go forth, sirs, on your
way,
And do no more to me
Until you know our
king’s will,
What he will say to
thee.’
The sheriff thus had
his answer,
Without any lying;
Forth he went to London
town,
In order to tell the
king.
There he told him of
that knight
And also of Robin Hood,
And also of the bold
archers
That were so noble and
good.
‘He will pledge what
he has done
To protect the outlaws
strong,
He will be the lord,
and set you at nought,
In all the North land.’
‘I will be at
Nottingham,’ said our king,
‘Within these
fourteen nights,
And I will take Robin
Hood,
And so I will that
knight.
Go home now, sheriff,’
said our king,
‘And do as I tell
thee,
And get ready good
archers enough
From all the wild
country.’
The sheriff had taken
his leave,
And went on his way,
And Robin Hood to the
greenwood
Went on a certain day.
And Little John was
healed of the arrow
That was shot into his
knee,
And he went straight to
Robin Hood
Under the greenwood
tree.
Robin Hood walked in
the forest
Under the leaves green
The proud sheriff of
Nottingham
Was really ‘brassed
off’ by this.
The sheriff couldn’t
find Robin Hood
He might not have his
prey;
Then he waited in
ambush for this noble knight,
Both by night and day.
Every he waited for the
noble knight,
With well-armed men,
And took him towards
Nottingham
Bound hand and foot.
The sheriff swore a
great big oath,
By Him that died on the
Rood,
That rather than have a
hundred pounds,
He would have Robin
Hood.
This heard the good
knight’s wife,
A fair lady and a
generous;
She sat upon a good
horse,
And to the greenwood
she rode
When she arrived in the
forest
Under the greenwood
tree,
She found there Robin
Hood
And all his fair
company.
‘God save thee, good
Robin,
And all thy company;
For Our dear Lady’s sake,
A favour grant to me.
Do not allow my wedded lord
Shamefully slain to be;
He is taken bound towards Nottingham
For the love of thee.’
Immediately then said good Robin
To that noble lady,
‘What man has taken your lord?’
‘The proud sheriff’, said she.
‘The proud sheriff
For truly as I you say,
He has not yet gone
three miles on his way.
Up then jumped good Robin
Like a man who had gone mad;
‘Get ready, my merry men,
For Him that died on the Rood.
And he who will not help,
By Him that died on the Tree,
He shall never live in the greenwood
No longer live with me.’
Soon there were good bows bent,
More than seven score;
They spared neither hedge nor ditch
That was them before.
‘I make my vow to God,’ said Robin,
‘the sheriff I will see,
And if I may him take,
Avenged it shall be.’
And when they came to Nottingham
They walked in the street;
And with the proud sheriff
Soon did they meet.
‘Wait, thou proud sheriff,’ he
said,
‘Wait, and speak with me;
Some news about our king
I want to hear from thee.
This seven years, dear worthy God,
I never went on foot so fast,
I make my vow to God, thou proud
sheriff,
It won’t be good for you’.
Robin bent a really good bow,
An arrow he let fly at will,
He so hit the proud sheriff
Upon the ground he lay really still.
And before he might get up
On his feet to stand
He cut off the sheriff’s head
With his bright brand.
‘Lye thou there, thou proud sheriff,
May evil become you;
There might no man trust you
Whilst you were alive.’
His men drew out their bright swords
That were so sharp and keen,
And set upon the sheriff’s men
And bore them down forthwith.
Robin went up to the knight
And cut in two his hood;
And took in his hand a bow,
And asked him to stand beside him.
‘Leave your horse behind you,
And learn to run;
You shall go with me to the greenwood,
Through mire, and moss and fen.
You shall with me to the greenwood,
I do not lie;
Until I have gained us a pardon
From Edward, our comely king.’
Fytte Seven
The king came to Nottingham,
With knights in regal array,
In order to take that noble knight
And Robin Hood, if he may.
He asked the men of that country
After Robin Hood,
And after that noble knight,
That was so bold and good.
When they told him the story,
Our king understood their tale;
And took into his own hand
The knight’s lands all.
The length and breadth of Lancashire
He went, both far and near,
Until he came to Plumpton Park –
He missed many of his ‘deer’.
There was our king accustomed to see
Many herds, not one;
He could hardly find one deer
That bore any good horns.
The was very angry at this,
And swore by the Trinity;
‘I wish I had Robin Hood
With my own eyes I would him see.
And he that would cut off the knight’s
head,
And bring it to me,
He shall have the knight’s lands,
Sir Richard atte Lee.
I give it to him with my charter,
And seal it with my hand,
To have and evermore to hold,
In all Merry England.’
Then spoke up a noble old knight,
That was trusted in his word;
‘Ah, my liege lord the king,
One word I’ll to you say.
There is no man in this country
May have the knight’s lands,
Whilst Robin Hood may ride or go,
And carry a bow in his hands,
That he shall not lose his head,
That is the best ball in his hood,
Give it to no man, my lord the king,
That ye wish any good.’
Half a year stayed our comely king
In Nottingham, and well more;
He could not hear about Robin Hood
In what region that he was.
But always went good Robin
By hiding places and by the hills,
And always killed the king’s deer,
And did with them what he would.
Then up spoke a proud forester
That walked by the king’s knee;
‘If you will see good Robin,
You must obey me.
Take five of the best knights
That are in your company;
And walk down beside yonder abbey
And get yourself monk’s clothing.
And I will be your companion,
And show you the way,
And before you come to Nottingham
My head as a bet I’ll lay,
That you shall meet with good Robin,
Alive if he be;
Before you come to Nottingham
With your own eyes you’ll him see’.
With great haste our king got ready
And so did his knights five;
Each of them in monk’s clothing,
And went their way quickly.
Our king was well-built above his cowl,
A broad hat on his crown,
As if he were abbot-like,
They rode into the town.
Strong boots our king had on,
Truly, as I you say;
He rode singing to the greenwood,
The convent was clothed in grey.
His packhorse and his great
baggage-train
Followed our king behind,
Until they came to the greenwood,
A mile inward under the trees.
There they met with good Robin,
Standing in their way,
And so did many a bold archer,
Truly, as I you say.
Robin took the king’s horse,
Quickly in that place,
And said, ‘Sir abbot, by your leave,
Awhile you must abide.
We are yeomen of this forest,
Under the greenwood tree;
We live by the king’s deer,
Other means we have not any.
And you have churches and rents both,
And gold in great plenty;
Give us some of your liquid assets,
For Holy Charity.’
Then up spoke our comely king,
Immediately said he,
‘I brought no more to the greenwood,
Than forty pounds with me.
I have stayed at Nottingham
These fourteen nights with our king,
And I have spend a lot of money
On many a great lord.
And I have but forty pounds,
No more than that have I with me;
But if I had a hundred pounds,
I would give it in pledge to thee.’
Robin took the forty pounds,
And divided it in two parts;
Half he gave to his merry men,
And told them to be merry.
Very courteously Robin then said,
‘Sir, have this for your ready cash;
We shall meet another day’.
‘Thank you very much,’ said our
king.
‘But Edward greets you well, our
king,
And sends to you his seal,
And bids you come to Nottingham,
Both to eat and dine’.
He took out the broad seal,
So that Robin could see;
Robin knew his courtesy,
And went down on his knee.
‘I love no man in all the world
As well as I do my king
Welcome is my lord’s seal,
And, monk, for thy tiding.
Sir abbot, because of your tidings,
Today you shall dine with me,
For the love of my king,
Under my trysting tree’.
He led forth our comely king,
Leading him by the hand;
Many a deer there was slain,
And quickly made ready.
Robin took a great big horn,
And loudly he began to blow;
Seven score of fit young men,
Came, ready, all in a row.
They all kneeled down on their knee
Fittingly, before Robin;
The king noted this himself,
And swore by Saint Austin,
‘Here is a wondrous, goodly sight
I think, by God’s agony,
His men are more at his bidding
Than my men are at mine’.
Very quickly was their dinner prepared,
And in to eat they went;
They served our king with all their
might,
Both Robin and Little John.
Right in front of our king was set
The fat venison;
The good white bread, the good red
wine,
And also fine ale, and brown.
‘Make good cheer’, said Robin,
‘Abbot, for charity,
And because of this same tiding,
Blessed may you be.
Now you shall see what life we lead,
Before you go from here;
Then you may inform our king,
When you stay together’.
Up they jumped hastily,
Their bows were smartly bent;
Our king was so horrified,
He thought he was lost.
Two rods there were set up,
Up to these they went
By fifty paces, our king said,
The courses were too long.
On each side a rose garland
They shot inside this barrier;
‘Whoever misses the rose garland,’
said Robin,
His tackle he shall forfeit.
And give it to the victor,
Be it never so fine,
For no man will I spare,
As I drink ale or wine.
And receive a blow on his head,
Which shall be all bare’.
And all that fell in Robin’s way
He hit them really well.
Twice Robin shot about,
And twice he split the shaft,
And so did good Gilbert
With the White Hand.
Little John and good Scarlett,
For nothing would they spare;
When they missed the garland,
Robin hit them well.
At the last shot that Robin shot,
For all his friends fair,
Yet he missed the garland
By three fingers and more.
Then up spoke good Gilbert,
And thus he did say;
‘Master,’ he said, ‘your tackle
is lost,
Step forward and take your pay.’
‘If that is so’, said Robin,
It may no better be;
Sir abbot, I give you my arrow,
I pray, you, sir, be my guest.’
‘It does not fit with my orders,’
said our king,
‘Robin, by your leave,
Thus to smite a good yeoman,
Doubtless I should him grieve.’
‘Smite on boldly,’ said Robin,
‘I give you generous leave.’
Then our king, with that word,
He folded up his sleeve,
And such a thump he gave Robin,
He nearly fell to the ground;
‘I make my vow to God,’ said Robin,
‘You are a doughty friar.
There is strength in your arm,’ said
Robin,
‘I’ll bet you can shoot well’
Thus our king and Robin Hood
Together they were met.
Robin looked at our comely king
Intently, at his face;
So did Sir Richard atte Lee,
And knelt down in that place.
And so did all the wild outlaws,
When they saw them kneel;
‘My Lord the king of England,
Now I know you well.’
‘Mercy, then, Robin,’ said our
king,
‘Under your trysting tree,
For your goodness and your grace,
For my men and me.’
‘Yes, for God,’ said Robin,
‘And also, God me save,
I ask mercy, my Lord the king,
And for my men, I crave.’
‘Yes, for God,’ said our king,
‘And for that I came to thee
With that thou leave the greenwood,
And all thy company:
And come home, sir, to my court,
And there dwell with me.’
‘I make my vow to God,’ said Robin,
And right so shall it be.
‘I will come to your court,
Your service for to see,
And bring with me of my men,
Seven score and three.
If I don’t like your service,
I will come back very soon,
And shoot at the brown deer,
As I am used to doing.
Fytte Eight
‘Have you any green cloth,’ said
our king,
‘That you will now sell to me?’
‘Yes, for God’s sake,’ said
Robin,
‘Thirty yards and three.’
‘Robin,’ said our king,
‘Now pray I thee,
Sell me some of that cloth,
To me and my company.’
‘Yes, for God’s sake,’ said Robin
‘If not I’d be a fool;
Another day you will clothe me
I believe, for Yule.’
The king put off his cowl, then,
A green garment he put on,
And every knight in turn,
Had another very soon.
When they were clothed in Lincoln
green,
They cast away their grey;
‘Now we shall go to Nottingham’,
Thus our king did say.
Their bows bent, forth they went,
Shooting all together,
Towards the town of Nottingham,
Outlaws as they were.
Our king and Robin rode together,
Truly, I you say,
And they shot in competition,
As they went on their way.
And many a thump our king won,
From Robin Hood that day;
And Robin didn’t hold back
From giving the king his ‘pay’.
‘God help me,’ said our king,
Your skill is hard to learn.
I would not win a shot from thee
If I should shoot all year.’
All the people of Nottingham
They stood and beheld;
They saw nothing but coats of green
That covered all the field.
Then every man to the other said,
‘I fear our king is slain;
Robin Hood is come to the town, you
see,
He left not one alive.’
Very hastily they began to flee,
Both yeomen and knaves;
And old women who could hardly walk,
They hopped on their crutches.
The king laughed very loudly,
And commanded them again;
When they saw our comely king,
I tell you, they were really glad.
They ate and drank, and were very glad,
And sang with notes high;
Then up spoke our comely king,
To Sir Richard atte Lee.
He gave him there his land again,
A good man he bade him be.
Robin thanked our comely king,
And went down on his knee.
When Robin had lived in the king’s
court
But twelve months and three,
He had spent a hundred pounds,
And all his men’s fee.
In every place where Robin went,
He had only two men;
Little John and good Scarlett,
Along with him to go.
Robin saw the young men shoot
On one fine day;
‘Alas!’ then said good Robin,
‘My wealth has gone away!
Once I was an archer good
An upright and a strong,
I was considered the best archer
That was in Merry England.
Alas!’ then said good Robin,
‘Alas and weilaway!.
If I live any longer with the king,
Sorrow will me slay.
Forth then went Robin Hood
Until he came to our king;
‘My Lord the king of England,
Grant me what I ask.
I made a chapel in Barnsdale,
That lovely is to see;
It is of Mary Magdalene,
And that’s where I would be.
I might never these seven nights
Sleep a single wink,
Nor in all these seven days
Either eat or drink.
I long to be in Barnsdale,
I can’t be kept therefrom:
Clothed in a penitent’s hair shirt
I am bound to go.’
‘If it be so,’ then said our king,
‘It may no better be;
I give you leave for seven nights,
No longer, to part from me.’
‘Many thanks, Lord,’ then said
Robin,
And went down on his knee,
He took his leave most courteously,
To the greenwood then went he.
When he came to the greenwood,
On a merry morning,
There he heard the chirping call
Of merry birds singing.
‘It is so long,’ said Robin,
‘Since I was last here;
I’d like to have a little shot
At the brown deer.’
Robin killed a great big hart:
His horn then he began to blow,
So all the outlaws of the forest
That horn they would know.
And they all gathered together
In a little while.
Seven score of fit young men
Were ready, all in a row.
And they graciously doffed their hoods,
And went down on their knee,
‘Welcome,’ they said, ‘our
master,
Under this greenwood tree.
Robin lived in the greenwood
Twenty years and two;
For all the fear of Edward our king,
Away he would not go.
Yet he was tricked, you see
By means of a wicked woman,
The prioress of Kirklees,
That was his close kin.
For the love of a knight,
Sir Roger of Doncaster,
Who was her lover –
May evil befall them both.
They conspired together
Robin Hood to slay,
And how they might best do that deed,
His murderers to be.
Than up spoke good Robin,
In the place where he stood;
‘Tomorrow I must go to Kirklees,
To be skilfully let blood’.
Sir Roger of Doncaster,
By the prioress he lay,
And there they betrayed good Robin
Hood,
Through their false play.
Christ have mercy on his soul,
Who died on the Rood.
For he was a good outlaw,
And did poor men much good.
