8A gode maner thanhad Robyn;In londe where that he were,Euery day or he wold dyneThre messis wolde he here.9The one inthe worship of the Fader,And another of the Holy Gost,The thirde of Our derë Lady,That he loued allther moste.10Robynloued Oure derë Lady;For dout of dydly synne,Wolde he neuer do compani harmeThat any womanwas in.11‘Maistar,’ thansayde 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 yemanThat walketh by grenë-wode shawe;Ne no knyght ne no squyerThat wol be a gode felawe.15‘These bisshoppesand these archebishoppes,Ye shall them bete and bynde;The hyë 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 withthe;And so shal WillyamScarlo[k],And no man abyde with me.18‘And walke vp to the Saylis,And so to Watlinge Stret[e],And wayte after some vnkuth gest,Vp chaunce ye may themmete.19‘Be he erle, or ani baron,Abbot, or ani knyght,Bringhe hym to lodge to me;His dyner shall be dight.’20They wente vp to the Saylis,These yeman all thre;They loked est, they loke[d] weest;They myght no man see.21But as they loked into Bernysdale,Bi a dernë strete,Than came a knyght ridinghe;Full sone they gan hym mete.22All dreri was his semblaunce,And lytell was his pryde;His one fote in the styrop stode,That othere wauyd beside.23His hode hanged in his iyn two;He rode in symple aray;A soriar man than he was oneRode neuer in somer day.24Litell Johnnwas full curteyes,And sette hym on his kne:‘Welcom be ye, gentyll knyght,Welcom ar ye to me.25‘Welcom be thou to grenë wode,Hendë knyght and fre;My maister hath abidenyou fastinge,Syr, al these ourës thre.’26‘Who is thy maister?’ sayde the knyght;Johnnsayde, Robyn Hode;‘He is [a] gode yoman,’ sayde the knyght,‘Of hym I haue herde moche gode.27‘I graunte,’ he sayde, ‘with you to wende,My bretherne, all in fere;My purpos was to haue dyned to dayAt Blith or Dancastere.’28Furth than went this gentyl knight,With a carefull chere;The teris oute of his iyen ran,And fell downe by his lere.29They brought hym to the lodgë-dore;Whan Robyn hym gan see,Full curtesly dyd of his hodeAnd 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.’31Than answered the gentyll knight,With wordës fayre and fre;God the saue, goode Robyn,And all thy fayre meynë.32They wasshed togeder and wyped bothe,And sette to theyr dynere;Brede and wyne they had right ynoughe,And noumbles of the dere.33Swannes and fessauntes they had full gode,And foules of the ryuere;There fayled none so litell a birdeThat euer was bred on bryre.34‘Do gladly, sir knight,’ sayde Robyn;‘Gramarcy, sir,’ sayde he;‘Suche a dinere had I natOf all these wekys thre.35‘If I come ageyne, Robyn,Here by thys contrë,As gode a dyner I shall the makeAs 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 inmy coffers,’ saide the knyght,‘That I may prefer 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.’40If 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.’42Lyttell Johnnsprede downe hys mantellFull fayre vpon the grounde,And there he fonde in the knyghtës coferBut euen halfe [a] pounde.43Littell Johnnlet it lye full styll,And went to hys maysteer [full] lowe;‘What tidyngës, Johnn?’ sayde Robyn;‘Sir, the knyght is true inowe.’44‘Fyll of the best wine,’ sayde Robyn,‘The knyght shall begynne;Moche wonder thinketh meThy 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 madë me;An hundred wynter here beforeMyn auncetres knyghtes haue be.48‘But oft it hath befal, Robyn,A man hath be disgrate;But God that sitteth in heuen aboueMay amende his state.49‘Withyn this two yere, Robyne,’ he sayde,‘My neghbours well it knowe,Foure hundred pounde of gode moneyFul 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 greatë foly,’ he sayde,‘And for my kynd[ë]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 ryghtMy godes both sette and solde.54‘My londes both sette to wedde, Robyn,Vntyll a certayn day,To a ryche abbot here besydeOf 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 saltë see,57‘And se w[h]ere Criste was quyke and dede,On the mount of Caluerë;Fare wel, frende, and haue gode day;It may no better be.’58Teris 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 frendës?’ sayde Robyn:‘Syr, neuer one wol me knowe;While I was ryche ynowe at homeGreat boste than wolde they blowe.60‘And nowe they renne away fro me,As bestis on a rowe;They take no more hede of meThanne they had me neuer sawe.’61For 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 woldë 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 derë 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 payA moche better borowe.67‘Come nowe furth, Litell Johnn,And go to my tresourë,And bringe me foure hundered pound,And loke well tolde it be.’68Furth thanwent Litell Johnn,And Scarlok went before;He tolde oute foure hundred poundeBy eight and twenty score.69‘Is thys well tolde?’ sayde [litell] Much;Johnnsayde, ‘What gre[ue]th the?It is almus to helpe a gentyll knyght,That is fal in pouertë.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 EnglondSo ryche, I dare well say.’72‘Take hym thre yerdes of euery colour,And loke well mete that it be;’Lytell Johnntoke none other mesureBut his bowë-tree.73And at euery handfull that he metHe lepëd footës three;‘What deuyllës drapar,’ sayid litell Muche,‘Thynkest thou for to be?’74Scarlok stode full stil and loughe,And sayd, By God Almyght,Johnnmay gyue hym gode mesure,For it costeth hym but lyght.75‘Mayster,’ than said Litell JohnnTo gentill Robyn Hode,‘Ye must giue the knig[h]t a hors,To lede home this gode.’76‘Take hyma 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 botës,’ 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 hymoute of tene.’79‘Whanshal mi day be,’ said the knight,‘Sir, and your wyll be?’‘This day twelue moneth,’ saide Robyn,‘Vnder this grenë-wode tre.80‘It were greate shamë,’ sayde Robyn,‘A knight alone to ryde,Withoutë squyre, yoman, or page,To walkë 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 nedë haue.’THE SECONDE FYTTE.82Now is the knight gone on his way;This game hym thought full gode;Whanne he loked on BernesdaleHe blessyd RobynHode.83And whanne he thought on Bernysdale,On Scarlok, Much, and Johnn,He blyssyd them for the best companyb.That euer he in come.84Then spake that gentyll knyght,To Lytel Johan gan he saye,To-morrowe I must to Yorke toune,To Saynt Mary abbay.85And to the abbot of that placeFoure hondred pounde I must pay;And but I be there vpon this nyghtMy londe is lost for ay.86The abbot sayd to his couent,There he stode on grounde,This day twelfe moneth came there a knyghtAnd borowed foure hondred pounde.87[He borowed foure hondred pounde,]Upon all his londë fre;But he come this ylkë dayDysheryte 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 pytë,’ 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 placeFoure hondred pounde by yere.’93The abbot and the hy selererStertë forthe full bolde,The [hye] iustyce of EnglondeThe abbot there dyde holde.94The hyë iustyce and many moHad take in to they[r] hondeHoly all the knyghtës det,To put that knyght to wronge.95They demed the knyght wonder sore,The abbot and his meynë:‘But he come this ylkë dayDysheryte shall he be.’96‘He wyll not come yet,’ sayd the iustyce,‘I dare well vndertake;’But in sorowe tymë for them allThe knyght came to the gate.97Than bespake that gentyll knyghtUntyll his meynë:Now put on your symple wedesThat 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.’100The porter swore a full grete othe,‘By God that madë me,Here be the best coresed horsThat 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.’102Lordës were to mete isetteIn 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 curteysë,And holde my londës in thy hondeTyll I haue made the gree!109‘And I wyll be thy true seruaunte,And trewely seruë the,Tyl ye haue foure hondred poundeOf money good and free.’110The 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 worldë 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 frendeOr that a man haue nede.’113The abbot lothely on hym gan loke,And vylaynesly hym gan call;‘Out,’ he sayd, ‘thou falsë 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.’115Vp then stode that gentyll knyght,To the abbot sayd he,To suffre a knyght to knele so longe,Thou canst no curteysye.116In ioustës and in tournementFull ferre than haue I be,And put my selfe as ferre in preesAs 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 swereYe 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,a.‘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 heyreAbbot, iustice, ne frere.’120He stert hymto a borde anone,Tyll a table rounde,And there he shoke oute of a baggeEuenfour 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.’122The 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,b.Now haue I holde my daye;Now shall I haue my londe agayne,For ought that you can saye.’125The knyght stert out of the dore,Awaye was all his care,And on he put his good clothynge,The other he lefte there.126He 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,a.‘And pray for Robyn Hode,128‘That euer his soulë be in blysse:He holpe me out of tene;Ne had be his kyndënesse,Beggers had we bene.129‘The abbot and I accorded ben,He is serued of his pay;The god yomanlent it me,As I cam by the way.’130This knight than dwelled fayre at home,The sothe for to saye,Tyll he had gete four hundred pound,Al redy for to pay.131He purueyed himan hundred bowes,The stryngës well ydyght,An hundred shefe of arowës gode,The hedys burneshed full bryght;132And euery arowe an ellë longe,With pecok wel idyght,Inocked all withwhyte siluer;It was a semely syght.133He purueyed hym an [hondreth men],Well harness[ed in that stede],b.And hym selfe in that same sete,And clothed in whyte and rede.134He bare a launsgay in his honde,And a man ledde his male,And reden with a lyght songeVnto Bernysdale.135But as he went at a brydge ther was a wrastelyng,And there taryed was he,And there was all the best yemenOf all the west countree.136A full fayre game there was vp set,A whyte bulle vp i-pyght,A grete courser, with sadle and brydil,a.With golde burnyssht full bryght.137A payre of gloues, a rede golde rynge,A pype of wyne, in fay;What man that bereth hym best i-wysThe pryce shall bere away.138There was a yoman in that place,And best worthy was he,And for he was ferre and frembde bested,Slayne he shulde haue be.139The knight had ruthe of this yoman,In placë where he stode;He sayde that yoman shulde haue no harme,For loue of Robyn Hode.140The knyght presed in to the place,An hundreth folowed hym [free],With bowës bent and arowës sharpe,For to shende that companye.141They shulderd all and made hym rome,To wete what he wolde say;He toke the yemanbi the hande,And gaue hymal the play.142He gaue hymfyue marke for his wyne,There it lay on the molde.And bad it shulde be set a broche,Drynkë who so wolde.143Thus longe taried this gentyll knyght,Tyll that play was done;So longe abode Robyn fastinge,Thre hourës after the none.THE THIRDE FYTTE.144Lyth and lystyn, gentilmen,All that nowe be here;Of Litell Johnn, that was the knightës man,Goode myrth ye shall here.145It was vpon a mery dayThat yonge men wolde go shete;Lytell Johnnfet his bowe anone,And sayde he wolde them mete.146Thre tymes Litell Johnnshet aboute,And alwey he slet the wande;The proudë sherif of NotinghamBy the markës can stande.147The sherif swore a full greate othe:‘By hymthat dyede on a tre,This manis the best arschéreThat 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;Mencal me Reynolde GrenëlefWhan I am at home.’150‘Sey me, Reyno[l]de Grenëlefe,Wolde thou dwell with me?And euery yere I woll the gyueTwenty marke to thy fee.’151‘I haue a maister,’ sayde Litell Johnn,‘A curteys knight is he;May ye leuë gete of hym,The better may it be.’152The sherif gate Litell JohnTwelue monethës of the knight;Therfore he gaue him right anoneA gode hors and a wight.153Nowe is Litell John the sherifës man,God lende vs well to spede!But alwey thought Lytell JohnTo quyte hym wele his mede.154‘Nowe so God me helpë,’ sayde Litell John,‘And by my true leutye,I shall be the worst seruaunt to hymThat euer yet had he.’155It fell vpona WednesdayThe sherif on huntynge was gone,And Litel Iohn lay inhis bed,And was foriete at home.156Therfore he was fastingeTil it was past the none;‘Gode sir stuarde, I pray to the,Gyue me my dynere,’ saide Litell John.157‘It is longe for GrenëlefeFastinge 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.’159The boteler was full vncurteys,There he stode on flore;He start to the boteryAnd shet fast the dore.160Lytell Johnngaue the boteler suche a tapHis backe went nere in two;Though he liued an hundred ier,The wors shuld he go.
8A gode maner thanhad Robyn;In londe where that he were,Euery day or he wold dyneThre messis wolde he here.9The one inthe worship of the Fader,And another of the Holy Gost,The thirde of Our derë Lady,That he loued allther moste.10Robynloued Oure derë Lady;For dout of dydly synne,Wolde he neuer do compani harmeThat any womanwas in.11‘Maistar,’ thansayde 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 yemanThat walketh by grenë-wode shawe;Ne no knyght ne no squyerThat wol be a gode felawe.15‘These bisshoppesand these archebishoppes,Ye shall them bete and bynde;The hyë 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 withthe;And so shal WillyamScarlo[k],And no man abyde with me.18‘And walke vp to the Saylis,And so to Watlinge Stret[e],And wayte after some vnkuth gest,Vp chaunce ye may themmete.19‘Be he erle, or ani baron,Abbot, or ani knyght,Bringhe hym to lodge to me;His dyner shall be dight.’20They wente vp to the Saylis,These yeman all thre;They loked est, they loke[d] weest;They myght no man see.21But as they loked into Bernysdale,Bi a dernë strete,Than came a knyght ridinghe;Full sone they gan hym mete.22All dreri was his semblaunce,And lytell was his pryde;His one fote in the styrop stode,That othere wauyd beside.23His hode hanged in his iyn two;He rode in symple aray;A soriar man than he was oneRode neuer in somer day.24Litell Johnnwas full curteyes,And sette hym on his kne:‘Welcom be ye, gentyll knyght,Welcom ar ye to me.25‘Welcom be thou to grenë wode,Hendë knyght and fre;My maister hath abidenyou fastinge,Syr, al these ourës thre.’26‘Who is thy maister?’ sayde the knyght;Johnnsayde, Robyn Hode;‘He is [a] gode yoman,’ sayde the knyght,‘Of hym I haue herde moche gode.27‘I graunte,’ he sayde, ‘with you to wende,My bretherne, all in fere;My purpos was to haue dyned to dayAt Blith or Dancastere.’28Furth than went this gentyl knight,With a carefull chere;The teris oute of his iyen ran,And fell downe by his lere.29They brought hym to the lodgë-dore;Whan Robyn hym gan see,Full curtesly dyd of his hodeAnd 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.’31Than answered the gentyll knight,With wordës fayre and fre;God the saue, goode Robyn,And all thy fayre meynë.32They wasshed togeder and wyped bothe,And sette to theyr dynere;Brede and wyne they had right ynoughe,And noumbles of the dere.33Swannes and fessauntes they had full gode,And foules of the ryuere;There fayled none so litell a birdeThat euer was bred on bryre.34‘Do gladly, sir knight,’ sayde Robyn;‘Gramarcy, sir,’ sayde he;‘Suche a dinere had I natOf all these wekys thre.35‘If I come ageyne, Robyn,Here by thys contrë,As gode a dyner I shall the makeAs 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 inmy coffers,’ saide the knyght,‘That I may prefer 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.’40If 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.’42Lyttell Johnnsprede downe hys mantellFull fayre vpon the grounde,And there he fonde in the knyghtës coferBut euen halfe [a] pounde.43Littell Johnnlet it lye full styll,And went to hys maysteer [full] lowe;‘What tidyngës, Johnn?’ sayde Robyn;‘Sir, the knyght is true inowe.’44‘Fyll of the best wine,’ sayde Robyn,‘The knyght shall begynne;Moche wonder thinketh meThy 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 madë me;An hundred wynter here beforeMyn auncetres knyghtes haue be.48‘But oft it hath befal, Robyn,A man hath be disgrate;But God that sitteth in heuen aboueMay amende his state.49‘Withyn this two yere, Robyne,’ he sayde,‘My neghbours well it knowe,Foure hundred pounde of gode moneyFul 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 greatë foly,’ he sayde,‘And for my kynd[ë]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 ryghtMy godes both sette and solde.54‘My londes both sette to wedde, Robyn,Vntyll a certayn day,To a ryche abbot here besydeOf 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 saltë see,57‘And se w[h]ere Criste was quyke and dede,On the mount of Caluerë;Fare wel, frende, and haue gode day;It may no better be.’58Teris 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 frendës?’ sayde Robyn:‘Syr, neuer one wol me knowe;While I was ryche ynowe at homeGreat boste than wolde they blowe.60‘And nowe they renne away fro me,As bestis on a rowe;They take no more hede of meThanne they had me neuer sawe.’61For 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 woldë 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 derë 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 payA moche better borowe.67‘Come nowe furth, Litell Johnn,And go to my tresourë,And bringe me foure hundered pound,And loke well tolde it be.’68Furth thanwent Litell Johnn,And Scarlok went before;He tolde oute foure hundred poundeBy eight and twenty score.69‘Is thys well tolde?’ sayde [litell] Much;Johnnsayde, ‘What gre[ue]th the?It is almus to helpe a gentyll knyght,That is fal in pouertë.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 EnglondSo ryche, I dare well say.’72‘Take hym thre yerdes of euery colour,And loke well mete that it be;’Lytell Johnntoke none other mesureBut his bowë-tree.73And at euery handfull that he metHe lepëd footës three;‘What deuyllës drapar,’ sayid litell Muche,‘Thynkest thou for to be?’74Scarlok stode full stil and loughe,And sayd, By God Almyght,Johnnmay gyue hym gode mesure,For it costeth hym but lyght.75‘Mayster,’ than said Litell JohnnTo gentill Robyn Hode,‘Ye must giue the knig[h]t a hors,To lede home this gode.’76‘Take hyma 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 botës,’ 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 hymoute of tene.’79‘Whanshal mi day be,’ said the knight,‘Sir, and your wyll be?’‘This day twelue moneth,’ saide Robyn,‘Vnder this grenë-wode tre.80‘It were greate shamë,’ sayde Robyn,‘A knight alone to ryde,Withoutë squyre, yoman, or page,To walkë 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 nedë haue.’THE SECONDE FYTTE.82Now is the knight gone on his way;This game hym thought full gode;Whanne he loked on BernesdaleHe blessyd RobynHode.83And whanne he thought on Bernysdale,On Scarlok, Much, and Johnn,He blyssyd them for the best companyb.That euer he in come.84Then spake that gentyll knyght,To Lytel Johan gan he saye,To-morrowe I must to Yorke toune,To Saynt Mary abbay.85And to the abbot of that placeFoure hondred pounde I must pay;And but I be there vpon this nyghtMy londe is lost for ay.86The abbot sayd to his couent,There he stode on grounde,This day twelfe moneth came there a knyghtAnd borowed foure hondred pounde.87[He borowed foure hondred pounde,]Upon all his londë fre;But he come this ylkë dayDysheryte 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 pytë,’ 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 placeFoure hondred pounde by yere.’93The abbot and the hy selererStertë forthe full bolde,The [hye] iustyce of EnglondeThe abbot there dyde holde.94The hyë iustyce and many moHad take in to they[r] hondeHoly all the knyghtës det,To put that knyght to wronge.95They demed the knyght wonder sore,The abbot and his meynë:‘But he come this ylkë dayDysheryte shall he be.’96‘He wyll not come yet,’ sayd the iustyce,‘I dare well vndertake;’But in sorowe tymë for them allThe knyght came to the gate.97Than bespake that gentyll knyghtUntyll his meynë:Now put on your symple wedesThat 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.’100The porter swore a full grete othe,‘By God that madë me,Here be the best coresed horsThat 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.’102Lordës were to mete isetteIn 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 curteysë,And holde my londës in thy hondeTyll I haue made the gree!109‘And I wyll be thy true seruaunte,And trewely seruë the,Tyl ye haue foure hondred poundeOf money good and free.’110The 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 worldë 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 frendeOr that a man haue nede.’113The abbot lothely on hym gan loke,And vylaynesly hym gan call;‘Out,’ he sayd, ‘thou falsë 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.’115Vp then stode that gentyll knyght,To the abbot sayd he,To suffre a knyght to knele so longe,Thou canst no curteysye.116In ioustës and in tournementFull ferre than haue I be,And put my selfe as ferre in preesAs 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 swereYe 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,a.‘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 heyreAbbot, iustice, ne frere.’120He stert hymto a borde anone,Tyll a table rounde,And there he shoke oute of a baggeEuenfour 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.’122The 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,b.Now haue I holde my daye;Now shall I haue my londe agayne,For ought that you can saye.’125The knyght stert out of the dore,Awaye was all his care,And on he put his good clothynge,The other he lefte there.126He 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,a.‘And pray for Robyn Hode,128‘That euer his soulë be in blysse:He holpe me out of tene;Ne had be his kyndënesse,Beggers had we bene.129‘The abbot and I accorded ben,He is serued of his pay;The god yomanlent it me,As I cam by the way.’130This knight than dwelled fayre at home,The sothe for to saye,Tyll he had gete four hundred pound,Al redy for to pay.131He purueyed himan hundred bowes,The stryngës well ydyght,An hundred shefe of arowës gode,The hedys burneshed full bryght;132And euery arowe an ellë longe,With pecok wel idyght,Inocked all withwhyte siluer;It was a semely syght.133He purueyed hym an [hondreth men],Well harness[ed in that stede],b.And hym selfe in that same sete,And clothed in whyte and rede.134He bare a launsgay in his honde,And a man ledde his male,And reden with a lyght songeVnto Bernysdale.135But as he went at a brydge ther was a wrastelyng,And there taryed was he,And there was all the best yemenOf all the west countree.136A full fayre game there was vp set,A whyte bulle vp i-pyght,A grete courser, with sadle and brydil,a.With golde burnyssht full bryght.137A payre of gloues, a rede golde rynge,A pype of wyne, in fay;What man that bereth hym best i-wysThe pryce shall bere away.138There was a yoman in that place,And best worthy was he,And for he was ferre and frembde bested,Slayne he shulde haue be.139The knight had ruthe of this yoman,In placë where he stode;He sayde that yoman shulde haue no harme,For loue of Robyn Hode.140The knyght presed in to the place,An hundreth folowed hym [free],With bowës bent and arowës sharpe,For to shende that companye.141They shulderd all and made hym rome,To wete what he wolde say;He toke the yemanbi the hande,And gaue hymal the play.142He gaue hymfyue marke for his wyne,There it lay on the molde.And bad it shulde be set a broche,Drynkë who so wolde.143Thus longe taried this gentyll knyght,Tyll that play was done;So longe abode Robyn fastinge,Thre hourës after the none.THE THIRDE FYTTE.144Lyth and lystyn, gentilmen,All that nowe be here;Of Litell Johnn, that was the knightës man,Goode myrth ye shall here.145It was vpon a mery dayThat yonge men wolde go shete;Lytell Johnnfet his bowe anone,And sayde he wolde them mete.146Thre tymes Litell Johnnshet aboute,And alwey he slet the wande;The proudë sherif of NotinghamBy the markës can stande.147The sherif swore a full greate othe:‘By hymthat dyede on a tre,This manis the best arschéreThat 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;Mencal me Reynolde GrenëlefWhan I am at home.’150‘Sey me, Reyno[l]de Grenëlefe,Wolde thou dwell with me?And euery yere I woll the gyueTwenty marke to thy fee.’151‘I haue a maister,’ sayde Litell Johnn,‘A curteys knight is he;May ye leuë gete of hym,The better may it be.’152The sherif gate Litell JohnTwelue monethës of the knight;Therfore he gaue him right anoneA gode hors and a wight.153Nowe is Litell John the sherifës man,God lende vs well to spede!But alwey thought Lytell JohnTo quyte hym wele his mede.154‘Nowe so God me helpë,’ sayde Litell John,‘And by my true leutye,I shall be the worst seruaunt to hymThat euer yet had he.’155It fell vpona WednesdayThe sherif on huntynge was gone,And Litel Iohn lay inhis bed,And was foriete at home.156Therfore he was fastingeTil it was past the none;‘Gode sir stuarde, I pray to the,Gyue me my dynere,’ saide Litell John.157‘It is longe for GrenëlefeFastinge 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.’159The boteler was full vncurteys,There he stode on flore;He start to the boteryAnd shet fast the dore.160Lytell Johnngaue the boteler suche a tapHis backe went nere in two;Though he liued an hundred ier,The wors shuld he go.
8A gode maner thanhad Robyn;In londe where that he were,Euery day or he wold dyneThre messis wolde he here.
8
A gode maner thanhad Robyn;
In londe where that he were,
Euery day or he wold dyne
Thre messis wolde he here.
9The one inthe worship of the Fader,And another of the Holy Gost,The thirde of Our derë Lady,That he loued allther moste.
9
The one inthe worship of the Fader,
And another of the Holy Gost,
The thirde of Our derë Lady,
That he loued allther moste.
10Robynloued Oure derë Lady;For dout of dydly synne,Wolde he neuer do compani harmeThat any womanwas in.
10
Robynloued Oure derë Lady;
For dout of dydly synne,
Wolde he neuer do compani harme
That any womanwas in.
11‘Maistar,’ thansayde Lytil Johnn,‘And we our borde shal sprede,Tell vs wheder that we shal go,And what life that we shall lede.
11
‘Maistar,’ thansayde 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.’
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.
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 yemanThat walketh by grenë-wode shawe;Ne no knyght ne no squyerThat wol be a gode felawe.
14
‘No more ye shall no gode yeman
That walketh by grenë-wode shawe;
Ne no knyght ne no squyer
That wol be a gode felawe.
15‘These bisshoppesand these archebishoppes,Ye shall them bete and bynde;The hyë sherif of Notyingham,Hym holde ye in your mynde.’
15
‘These bisshoppesand these archebishoppes,
Ye shall them bete and bynde;
The hyë 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!’
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 withthe;And so shal WillyamScarlo[k],And no man abyde with me.
17
‘Take thy gode bowe in thy honde,’ sayde Rob[yn];
‘Late Much wende withthe;
And so shal WillyamScarlo[k],
And no man abyde with me.
18‘And walke vp to the Saylis,And so to Watlinge Stret[e],And wayte after some vnkuth gest,Vp chaunce ye may themmete.
18
‘And walke vp to the Saylis,
And so to Watlinge Stret[e],
And wayte after some vnkuth gest,
Vp chaunce ye may themmete.
19‘Be he erle, or ani baron,Abbot, or ani knyght,Bringhe hym to lodge to me;His dyner shall be dight.’
19
‘Be he erle, or ani baron,
Abbot, or ani knyght,
Bringhe hym to lodge to me;
His dyner shall be dight.’
20They wente vp to the Saylis,These yeman all thre;They loked est, they loke[d] weest;They myght no man see.
20
They wente vp to the Saylis,
These yeman all thre;
They loked est, they loke[d] weest;
They myght no man see.
21But as they loked into Bernysdale,Bi a dernë strete,Than came a knyght ridinghe;Full sone they gan hym mete.
21
But as they loked into Bernysdale,
Bi a dernë strete,
Than came a knyght ridinghe;
Full sone they gan hym mete.
22All dreri was his semblaunce,And lytell was his pryde;His one fote in the styrop stode,That othere wauyd beside.
22
All dreri was his semblaunce,
And lytell was his pryde;
His one fote in the styrop stode,
That othere wauyd beside.
23His hode hanged in his iyn two;He rode in symple aray;A soriar man than he was oneRode neuer in somer day.
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.
24Litell Johnnwas full curteyes,And sette hym on his kne:‘Welcom be ye, gentyll knyght,Welcom ar ye to me.
24
Litell Johnnwas full curteyes,
And sette hym on his kne:
‘Welcom be ye, gentyll knyght,
Welcom ar ye to me.
25‘Welcom be thou to grenë wode,Hendë knyght and fre;My maister hath abidenyou fastinge,Syr, al these ourës thre.’
25
‘Welcom be thou to grenë wode,
Hendë knyght and fre;
My maister hath abidenyou fastinge,
Syr, al these ourës thre.’
26‘Who is thy maister?’ sayde the knyght;Johnnsayde, Robyn Hode;‘He is [a] gode yoman,’ sayde the knyght,‘Of hym I haue herde moche gode.
26
‘Who is thy maister?’ sayde the knyght;
Johnnsayde, Robyn Hode;
‘He is [a] gode yoman,’ sayde the knyght,
‘Of hym I haue herde moche gode.
27‘I graunte,’ he sayde, ‘with you to wende,My bretherne, all in fere;My purpos was to haue dyned to dayAt Blith or Dancastere.’
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.’
28Furth than went this gentyl knight,With a carefull chere;The teris oute of his iyen ran,And fell downe by his lere.
28
Furth than went this gentyl knight,
With a carefull chere;
The teris oute of his iyen ran,
And fell downe by his lere.
29They brought hym to the lodgë-dore;Whan Robyn hym gan see,Full curtesly dyd of his hodeAnd sette hym on his knee.
29
They brought hym to the lodgë-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.’
30
‘Welcome, sir knight,’ than sayde Robyn,
‘Welcome art thou to me;
I haue abyden you fastinge, sir,
All these ouris thre.’
31Than answered the gentyll knight,With wordës fayre and fre;God the saue, goode Robyn,And all thy fayre meynë.
31
Than answered the gentyll knight,
With wordës fayre and fre;
God the saue, goode Robyn,
And all thy fayre meynë.
32They wasshed togeder and wyped bothe,And sette to theyr dynere;Brede and wyne they had right ynoughe,And noumbles of the dere.
32
They wasshed togeder and wyped bothe,
And sette to theyr dynere;
Brede and wyne they had right ynoughe,
And noumbles of the dere.
33Swannes and fessauntes they had full gode,And foules of the ryuere;There fayled none so litell a birdeThat euer was bred on bryre.
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 natOf all these wekys thre.
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 contrë,As gode a dyner I shall the makeAs that thou haest made to me.’
35
‘If I come ageyne, Robyn,
Here by thys contrë,
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.
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.’
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 inmy coffers,’ saide the knyght,‘That I may prefer for shame:’‘Litell Johnn, go loke,’ sayde Robyn,‘Ne let nat for no blame.
38
‘I haue nought inmy coffers,’ saide the knyght,
‘That I may prefer 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.’
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.’
40If thou hast no more,’ sayde Robyn,‘I woll nat one peny;And yf thou haue nede of any more,More shall I lend the.
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.’
41
‘Go nowe furth, Littell Johnn,
The truth tell thou me;
If there be no more but ten shelinges,
No peny that I se.’
42Lyttell Johnnsprede downe hys mantellFull fayre vpon the grounde,And there he fonde in the knyghtës coferBut euen halfe [a] pounde.
42
Lyttell Johnnsprede downe hys mantell
Full fayre vpon the grounde,
And there he fonde in the knyghtës cofer
But euen halfe [a] pounde.
43Littell Johnnlet it lye full styll,And went to hys maysteer [full] lowe;‘What tidyngës, Johnn?’ sayde Robyn;‘Sir, the knyght is true inowe.’
43
Littell Johnnlet it lye full styll,
And went to hys maysteer [full] lowe;
‘What tidyngës, Johnn?’ sayde Robyn;
‘Sir, the knyght is true inowe.’
44‘Fyll of the best wine,’ sayde Robyn,‘The knyght shall begynne;Moche wonder thinketh meThy clot[h]ynge is so thin[n]e.
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.
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.’
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 madë me;An hundred wynter here beforeMyn auncetres knyghtes haue be.
47
‘I am none of those,’ sayde the knyght,
‘By God that madë 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 aboueMay amende his state.
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 moneyFul well than myght I spende.
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.’
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 greatë foly,’ he sayde,‘And for my kynd[ë]nesse.
51
‘In what maner,’ than sayde Robyn,
‘Hast thou lorne thy rychesse? ’
‘For my greatë foly,’ he sayde,
‘And for my kynd[ë]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.
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 ryghtMy godes both sette and solde.
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 besydeOf Seynt Mari Abbey.’
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.’
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 saltë see,
56
‘Nowe and thou lese thy lond,’ sayde Robyn,
‘What woll fall of the?’
‘Hastely I wol me buske,’ sayd the knyght,
‘Ouer the saltë see,
57‘And se w[h]ere Criste was quyke and dede,On the mount of Caluerë;Fare wel, frende, and haue gode day;It may no better be.’
57
‘And se w[h]ere Criste was quyke and dede,
On the mount of Caluerë;
Fare wel, frende, and haue gode day;
It may no better be.’
58Teris 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.’
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 frendës?’ sayde Robyn:‘Syr, neuer one wol me knowe;While I was ryche ynowe at homeGreat boste than wolde they blowe.
59
‘Where be thy frendës?’ 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 meThanne they had me neuer sawe.’
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.’
61For ruthe thanne wept Litell Johnn,Scarlok and Muche in fere;‘Fyl of the best wyne,’ sayde Robyn,‘For here is a symple chere.
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 woldë be? ’‘I haue none,’ than sayde the knyght,‘But God that dyed on tree.’
62
‘Hast thou any frende,’ sayde Robyn,
‘Thy borowe that woldë 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?
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.’
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 derë Lady;She fayled me neuer or thys day.’
65
‘I haue none other,’ sayde the knyght,
‘The sothe for to say,
But yf yt be Our derë 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 payA moche better borowe.
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 tresourë,And bringe me foure hundered pound,And loke well tolde it be.’
67
‘Come nowe furth, Litell Johnn,
And go to my tresourë,
And bringe me foure hundered pound,
And loke well tolde it be.’
68Furth thanwent Litell Johnn,And Scarlok went before;He tolde oute foure hundred poundeBy eight and twenty score.
68
Furth thanwent 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;Johnnsayde, ‘What gre[ue]th the?It is almus to helpe a gentyll knyght,That is fal in pouertë.
69
‘Is thys well tolde?’ sayde [litell] Much;
Johnnsayde, ‘What gre[ue]th the?
It is almus to helpe a gentyll knyght,
That is fal in pouertë.
70‘Master,’ than sayde Lityll John,‘His clothinge is full thynne;Ye must gyue the knight a lyueray,To lappe his body therin.
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 EnglondSo ryche, I dare well say.’
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 Johnntoke none other mesureBut his bowë-tree.
72
‘Take hym thre yerdes of euery colour,
And loke well mete that it be;’
Lytell Johnntoke none other mesure
But his bowë-tree.
73And at euery handfull that he metHe lepëd footës three;‘What deuyllës drapar,’ sayid litell Muche,‘Thynkest thou for to be?’
73
And at euery handfull that he met
He lepëd footës three;
‘What deuyllës drapar,’ sayid litell Muche,
‘Thynkest thou for to be?’
74Scarlok stode full stil and loughe,And sayd, By God Almyght,Johnnmay gyue hym gode mesure,For it costeth hym but lyght.
74
Scarlok stode full stil and loughe,
And sayd, By God Almyght,
Johnnmay gyue hym gode mesure,
For it costeth hym but lyght.
75‘Mayster,’ than said Litell JohnnTo gentill Robyn Hode,‘Ye must giue the knig[h]t a hors,To lede home this gode.’
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 hyma gray coursar,’ sayde Robyn,‘And a saydle newe;He is Oure Ladye’s messangere;God graunt that he be true.’
76
‘Take hyma 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 botës,’ sayde Scarlock,‘For he is a gentyll knight.’
77
‘And a gode palfray,’ sayde lytell Much,
‘To mayntene hym in his right;’
‘And a peyre of botës,’ 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 hymoute of tene.’
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 hymoute of tene.’
79‘Whanshal mi day be,’ said the knight,‘Sir, and your wyll be?’‘This day twelue moneth,’ saide Robyn,‘Vnder this grenë-wode tre.
79
‘Whanshal mi day be,’ said the knight,
‘Sir, and your wyll be?’
‘This day twelue moneth,’ saide Robyn,
‘Vnder this grenë-wode tre.
80‘It were greate shamë,’ sayde Robyn,‘A knight alone to ryde,Withoutë squyre, yoman, or page,To walkë by his syde.
80
‘It were greate shamë,’ sayde Robyn,
‘A knight alone to ryde,
Withoutë squyre, yoman, or page,
To walkë 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 nedë haue.’
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 nedë haue.’
THE SECONDE FYTTE.
THE SECONDE FYTTE.
82Now is the knight gone on his way;This game hym thought full gode;Whanne he loked on BernesdaleHe blessyd RobynHode.
82
Now is the knight gone on his way;
This game hym thought full gode;
Whanne he loked on Bernesdale
He blessyd RobynHode.
83And whanne he thought on Bernysdale,On Scarlok, Much, and Johnn,He blyssyd them for the best companyb.That euer he in come.
83
And whanne he thought on Bernysdale,
On Scarlok, Much, and Johnn,
He blyssyd them for the best company
b.
That euer he in come.
84Then spake that gentyll knyght,To Lytel Johan gan he saye,To-morrowe I must to Yorke toune,To Saynt Mary abbay.
84
Then spake that gentyll knyght,
To Lytel Johan gan he saye,
To-morrowe I must to Yorke toune,
To Saynt Mary abbay.
85And to the abbot of that placeFoure hondred pounde I must pay;And but I be there vpon this nyghtMy londe is lost for ay.
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.
86The abbot sayd to his couent,There he stode on grounde,This day twelfe moneth came there a knyghtAnd borowed foure hondred pounde.
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 londë fre;But he come this ylkë dayDysheryte shall he be.
87
[He borowed foure hondred pounde,]
Upon all his londë fre;
But he come this ylkë 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.
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.
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 pytë,’ said the pryoure,‘So to haue his londe;And ye be so lyght of your consyence,Ye do to hym moch wronge.’
90
‘It were grete pytë,’ 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.
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 placeFoure hondred pounde by yere.’
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.’
93The abbot and the hy selererStertë forthe full bolde,The [hye] iustyce of EnglondeThe abbot there dyde holde.
93
The abbot and the hy selerer
Stertë forthe full bolde,
The [hye] iustyce of Englonde
The abbot there dyde holde.
94The hyë iustyce and many moHad take in to they[r] hondeHoly all the knyghtës det,To put that knyght to wronge.
94
The hyë iustyce and many mo
Had take in to they[r] honde
Holy all the knyghtës det,
To put that knyght to wronge.
95They demed the knyght wonder sore,The abbot and his meynë:‘But he come this ylkë dayDysheryte shall he be.’
95
They demed the knyght wonder sore,
The abbot and his meynë:
‘But he come this ylkë day
Dysheryte shall he be.’
96‘He wyll not come yet,’ sayd the iustyce,‘I dare well vndertake;’But in sorowe tymë for them allThe knyght came to the gate.
96
‘He wyll not come yet,’ sayd the iustyce,
‘I dare well vndertake;’
But in sorowe tymë for them all
The knyght came to the gate.
97Than bespake that gentyll knyghtUntyll his meynë:Now put on your symple wedesThat ye brought fro the see.
97
Than bespake that gentyll knyght
Untyll his meynë:
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.
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.’
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.’
100The porter swore a full grete othe,‘By God that madë me,Here be the best coresed horsThat euer yet sawe I me.
100
The porter swore a full grete othe,
‘By God that madë 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.’
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.’
102Lordës were to mete isetteIn that abbotes hall;The knyght went forth and kneled downe,And salued them grete and small.
102
Lordës 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?’
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.
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.’
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!’
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.
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 curteysë,And holde my londës in thy hondeTyll I haue made the gree!
108
‘Now, good syr abbot, be my frende,
For thy curteysë,
And holde my londës in thy honde
Tyll I haue made the gree!
109‘And I wyll be thy true seruaunte,And trewely seruë the,Tyl ye haue foure hondred poundeOf money good and free.’
109
‘And I wyll be thy true seruaunte,
And trewely seruë the,
Tyl ye haue foure hondred pounde
Of money good and free.’
110The 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.’
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 worldë wrought,But I haue my londe agayne,Full dere it shall be bought.
111
‘By dere worthy God,’ then sayd the knyght,
‘That all this worldë 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 frendeOr that a man haue nede.’
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.’
113The abbot lothely on hym gan loke,And vylaynesly hym gan call;‘Out,’ he sayd, ‘thou falsë knyght,Spede the out of my hall!’
113
The abbot lothely on hym gan loke,
And vylaynesly hym gan call;
‘Out,’ he sayd, ‘thou falsë 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.’
114
‘Thou lyest,’ then sayd the gentyll knyght,
‘Abbot, in thy hal;
False knyght was I neuer,
By God that made vs all.’
115Vp then stode that gentyll knyght,To the abbot sayd he,To suffre a knyght to knele so longe,Thou canst no curteysye.
115
Vp then stode that gentyll knyght,
To the abbot sayd he,
To suffre a knyght to knele so longe,
Thou canst no curteysye.
116In ioustës and in tournementFull ferre than haue I be,And put my selfe as ferre in preesAs ony that euer I se.
116
In ioustës 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 swereYe holde neuer your londe in pees.’
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,a.‘Yit gete ye it not so.
118
‘An hondred pounde,’ sayd the abbot;
The justice sayd, Gyue hym two;
‘Nay, be God,’ sayd the knyght,
a.
‘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 heyreAbbot, iustice, ne frere.’
119
‘Though ye wolde gyue a thousand more,
Yet were ye neuer the nere;
Shall there neuer be myn heyre
Abbot, iustice, ne frere.’
120He stert hymto a borde anone,Tyll a table rounde,And there he shoke oute of a baggeEuenfour hundred pound.
120
He stert hymto a borde anone,
Tyll a table rounde,
And there he shoke oute of a bagge
Euenfour 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.’
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.’
122The abbot sat styll, and ete no more,For all his ryall fare;He cast his hede on his shulder,And fast began to stare.
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.’
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,b.Now haue I holde my daye;Now shall I haue my londe agayne,For ought that you can saye.’
124
‘Sir [abbot, and ye me]n of lawe,
b.
Now haue I holde my daye;
Now shall I haue my londe agayne,
For ought that you can saye.’
125The knyght stert out of the dore,Awaye was all his care,And on he put his good clothynge,The other he lefte there.
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.
126He wente hym forth full mery syngynge,As men haue tolde in tale;His lady met hym at the gate,At home in Verysdale.
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,a.‘And pray for Robyn Hode,
127
‘Welcome, my lorde,’ sayd his lady;
‘Syr, lost is all your good?’
‘Be mery, dame,’ sayd the knyght,
a.
‘And pray for Robyn Hode,
128‘That euer his soulë be in blysse:He holpe me out of tene;Ne had be his kyndënesse,Beggers had we bene.
128
‘That euer his soulë be in blysse:
He holpe me out of tene;
Ne had be his kyndënesse,
Beggers had we bene.
129‘The abbot and I accorded ben,He is serued of his pay;The god yomanlent it me,As I cam by the way.’
129
‘The abbot and I accorded ben,
He is serued of his pay;
The god yomanlent it me,
As I cam by the way.’
130This knight than dwelled fayre at home,The sothe for to saye,Tyll he had gete four hundred pound,Al redy for to pay.
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.
131He purueyed himan hundred bowes,The stryngës well ydyght,An hundred shefe of arowës gode,The hedys burneshed full bryght;
131
He purueyed himan hundred bowes,
The stryngës well ydyght,
An hundred shefe of arowës gode,
The hedys burneshed full bryght;
132And euery arowe an ellë longe,With pecok wel idyght,Inocked all withwhyte siluer;It was a semely syght.
132
And euery arowe an ellë longe,
With pecok wel idyght,
Inocked all withwhyte siluer;
It was a semely syght.
133He purueyed hym an [hondreth men],Well harness[ed in that stede],b.And hym selfe in that same sete,And clothed in whyte and rede.
133
He purueyed hym an [hondreth men],
Well harness[ed in that stede],
b.
And hym selfe in that same sete,
And clothed in whyte and rede.
134He bare a launsgay in his honde,And a man ledde his male,And reden with a lyght songeVnto Bernysdale.
134
He bare a launsgay in his honde,
And a man ledde his male,
And reden with a lyght songe
Vnto Bernysdale.
135But as he went at a brydge ther was a wrastelyng,And there taryed was he,And there was all the best yemenOf all the west countree.
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.
136A full fayre game there was vp set,A whyte bulle vp i-pyght,A grete courser, with sadle and brydil,a.With golde burnyssht full bryght.
136
A full fayre game there was vp set,
A whyte bulle vp i-pyght,
A grete courser, with sadle and brydil,
a.
With golde burnyssht full bryght.
137A payre of gloues, a rede golde rynge,A pype of wyne, in fay;What man that bereth hym best i-wysThe pryce shall bere away.
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.
138There was a yoman in that place,And best worthy was he,And for he was ferre and frembde bested,Slayne he shulde haue be.
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.
139The knight had ruthe of this yoman,In placë where he stode;He sayde that yoman shulde haue no harme,For loue of Robyn Hode.
139
The knight had ruthe of this yoman,
In placë where he stode;
He sayde that yoman shulde haue no harme,
For loue of Robyn Hode.
140The knyght presed in to the place,An hundreth folowed hym [free],With bowës bent and arowës sharpe,For to shende that companye.
140
The knyght presed in to the place,
An hundreth folowed hym [free],
With bowës bent and arowës sharpe,
For to shende that companye.
141They shulderd all and made hym rome,To wete what he wolde say;He toke the yemanbi the hande,And gaue hymal the play.
141
They shulderd all and made hym rome,
To wete what he wolde say;
He toke the yemanbi the hande,
And gaue hymal the play.
142He gaue hymfyue marke for his wyne,There it lay on the molde.And bad it shulde be set a broche,Drynkë who so wolde.
142
He gaue hymfyue marke for his wyne,
There it lay on the molde.
And bad it shulde be set a broche,
Drynkë who so wolde.
143Thus longe taried this gentyll knyght,Tyll that play was done;So longe abode Robyn fastinge,Thre hourës after the none.
143
Thus longe taried this gentyll knyght,
Tyll that play was done;
So longe abode Robyn fastinge,
Thre hourës after the none.
THE THIRDE FYTTE.
THE THIRDE FYTTE.
144Lyth and lystyn, gentilmen,All that nowe be here;Of Litell Johnn, that was the knightës man,Goode myrth ye shall here.
144
Lyth and lystyn, gentilmen,
All that nowe be here;
Of Litell Johnn, that was the knightës man,
Goode myrth ye shall here.
145It was vpon a mery dayThat yonge men wolde go shete;Lytell Johnnfet his bowe anone,And sayde he wolde them mete.
145
It was vpon a mery day
That yonge men wolde go shete;
Lytell Johnnfet his bowe anone,
And sayde he wolde them mete.
146Thre tymes Litell Johnnshet aboute,And alwey he slet the wande;The proudë sherif of NotinghamBy the markës can stande.
146
Thre tymes Litell Johnnshet aboute,
And alwey he slet the wande;
The proudë sherif of Notingham
By the markës can stande.
147The sherif swore a full greate othe:‘By hymthat dyede on a tre,This manis the best arschéreThat euer yet sawe I [me.]
147
The sherif swore a full greate othe:
‘By hymthat dyede on a tre,
This manis the best arschére
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?’
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;Mencal me Reynolde GrenëlefWhan I am at home.’
149
‘In Holdernes, sir, I was borne,
I-wys al of my dame;
Mencal me Reynolde Grenëlef
Whan I am at home.’
150‘Sey me, Reyno[l]de Grenëlefe,Wolde thou dwell with me?And euery yere I woll the gyueTwenty marke to thy fee.’
150
‘Sey me, Reyno[l]de Grenëlefe,
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 leuë gete of hym,The better may it be.’
151
‘I haue a maister,’ sayde Litell Johnn,
‘A curteys knight is he;
May ye leuë gete of hym,
The better may it be.’
152The sherif gate Litell JohnTwelue monethës of the knight;Therfore he gaue him right anoneA gode hors and a wight.
152
The sherif gate Litell John
Twelue monethës of the knight;
Therfore he gaue him right anone
A gode hors and a wight.
153Nowe is Litell John the sherifës man,God lende vs well to spede!But alwey thought Lytell JohnTo quyte hym wele his mede.
153
Nowe is Litell John the sherifës man,
God lende vs well to spede!
But alwey thought Lytell John
To quyte hym wele his mede.
154‘Nowe so God me helpë,’ sayde Litell John,‘And by my true leutye,I shall be the worst seruaunt to hymThat euer yet had he.’
154
‘Nowe so God me helpë,’ sayde Litell John,
‘And by my true leutye,
I shall be the worst seruaunt to hym
That euer yet had he.’
155It fell vpona WednesdayThe sherif on huntynge was gone,And Litel Iohn lay inhis bed,And was foriete at home.
155
It fell vpona Wednesday
The sherif on huntynge was gone,
And Litel Iohn lay inhis bed,
And was foriete at home.
156Therfore he was fastingeTil it was past the none;‘Gode sir stuarde, I pray to the,Gyue me my dynere,’ saide Litell John.
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 GrenëlefeFastinge thus for to be;Therfor I pray the, sir stuarde,Mi dyner gif me.’
157
‘It is longe for Grenëlefe
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.’
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.’
159The boteler was full vncurteys,There he stode on flore;He start to the boteryAnd shet fast the dore.
159
The boteler was full vncurteys,
There he stode on flore;
He start to the botery
And shet fast the dore.
160Lytell Johnngaue the boteler suche a tapHis backe went nere in two;Though he liued an hundred ier,The wors shuld he go.
160
Lytell Johnngaue the boteler suche a tap
His backe went nere in two;
Though he liued an hundred ier,
The wors shuld he go.