THE VI. FYTTE.317Lythe and lysten, gentylmen,And herkyn to your songe;Howe the proudë shyref of Notyngham,And men of armys stronge,318Full fast cam to the hyë shyref,The contrë vp to route,And they besette the knyghtës castell,The wallës all aboute.319The proudë shyref loude gan crye,And sayde, Thou traytour knight,Thou kepest here the kynges enemys,Agaynst the lawe and right.320‘Syr, I wyll auowe that I haue done,The dedys that here be dyght,Vpon all the landës that I haue,As I am a trewë knyght.321‘Wende furth, sirs, on your way,And do no more to meTyll ye wyt oure kyngës wille,What he wyll say to the.’322The shyref thus had his answere,Without any lesynge;[Fu]rth he yede to London towne,All for to tel our kinge.323Ther he telde himof that knight,And eke of Robyn Hode,And also of the bolde archars,That were soo noble and gode.324‘He wyll auowe that he hath done,To mayntene the outlawes stronge;He wyll be lorde, and set you at nought,In all the northe londe.’325‘I wil be at Notyngham,’ saide our kynge,‘Within this fourteenyght,And take I wyll RobynHode,And so I wyll that knight.326‘Go nowe home, shyref,’ sayde our kynge,‘And do as I byd the;And ordeyngode archers ynowe,Of all the wydë contrë.’327The shyref had his leue i-take,And went hym on his way,And Robyn Hode to grenë wode,Vpon a certen day.328And Lytel John was hole of the aroweThat shot was in his kne,And dyd hym streyght to Robyn Hode,Vnder the grenë-wode tree.329RobynHode walked in the forest,Vnder the leuys grene;The proudë shyref of NotynghamThereof he had grete tene.330The shyref there fayled of Robyn Hode,He myght not haue his pray;Than he awayted this gentyll knyght,Bothe by nyght and day.331Euer he wayted the gentyll knyght,Syr Richarde at the Lee,As he went on haukynge by the ryuer-syde,And lete [his] haukës flee.332Toke he there this gentyll knight,With men of armys stronge,And led hym to Notyngham warde,Bounde bothe fote and hande.333The sheref sware a full grete othe,Bi hymthat dyed on rode,He had leuer thanan hundred poundThat he had RobynHode.334This harde the knyghtës wyfe,A fayr lady and a free;She set hir on a gode palfrey,To grenë wode anone rode she.335Whanne she camin the forest,Vnderthe grenë-wode tree,Fonde she there RobynHode,And al his fayre menë.336‘God the sauë, godë Robyn,And all thy company;For Our derë Ladyes sake,A bonë graunte thou me.337‘Late neuer my wedded lordeShamefully slayne be;He is fast bowne to Notingham warde,For the loue of the.’338Anone than saide goode RobynTo that lady so fre,What man hath your lorde [i-]take?. . . . . .339. . . . . .‘For soth as I the say;He is nat yet thre mylësPassed on his way.’340Vp than sterte gode Robyn,As man that had ben wode:‘Buske you, my mery men,For hym that dyed on rode.341‘And he that this sorowe forsaketh,By hym that dyed on tre,Shall he neuer in grenë wodeNo lenger dwel with me.’342Sone there were gode bowës bent,Mo than seuen score;Hedge ne dyche spared they noneThat was them before.343‘I make myn auowe to God,’ sayde Robyn,‘The sherif wolde I fayne see;And if I may hymtake,I-quyte shall it be.’344And whan they came to Notingham,They walked inthe strete;And withthe proudë sherif i-wysSonë can they mete.345‘Abyde, thou proudë sherif,’ he sayde,‘Abyde, and speke with me;Of some tidinges of oure kingeI wolde fayne here of the.346‘This seuen yere, by dere worthy God,Ne yede I this fast on fote;I make myn auowe to God, thou proudë sherif,It is nat for thy gode.’347Robyn bent a full goode bowe,An arrowe he drowe at wyll;He hit so the proudë sherifeVpon the grounde he lay full still.348And or he myght vp aryse,On his fete to stonde,He smote of the sherifs hedeWith his bright[ë] bronde.349‘Lye thou there, thou proudë sherife,Euyll mote thou cheue!There myght no man to the trusteb.The whyles thou were a lyue.’350His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes,That were so sharpe and kene,And layde on the sheryues men,And dryued them downe bydene.351Robyn stert to that knyght,And cut a two his bonde,And toke hym in his hand a bowe,And bad hym by hym stonde.352‘Leue thy hors the behynde,And lerne for to renne;Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,Through myrë, mosse, and fenne.353‘Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,Without ony leasynge,Tyll that I haue gete vs graceOf Edwarde, our comly kynge.’THE VII. FYTTE.354The kynge came to Notynghame,With knyghtës in grete araye,For to take that gentyll knyghtAnd Robyn Hode, and yf he may.355He asked men of that countrëAfter Robyn Hode,And after that gentyll knyght,That was so bolde and stout.356Whan they had tolde hym the caseOur kynge vnderstode ther tale,And seased in his hondeThe knyghtës londës all.357All the passe of LancasshyreHe went both ferre and nere,Tyll he came to Plomton Parke;He faylyd many of his dere.358There our kynge was wont to seHerdës many one,He coud vnneth fynde one dere,That bare ony good horne.359The kynge was wonder wroth withall,And swore by the Trynytë,‘I wolde I had Robyn Hode,With eyen I myght hym se.360‘And he that wolde smyte of the knyghtës hede,And brynge it to me,He shall haue the knyghtës londes,Syr Rycharde at the Le.361‘I gyue it hym with my charter,And sele it [with] my honde,To haue and holde for euer more,In all mery Englonde.’362Than bespake a fayre olde knyght,That was treue in his fay:A, my leegë lorde the kynge,One worde I shall you say.363There is no man in this countrëMay haue the knyghtës londes,Whyle Robyn Hode may ryde or gone,And bere a bowe in his hondes,364That he ne shall lese his hede,That is the best ball in his hode:Giue it no man, my lorde the kynge,That ye wyll any good.365Half a yere dwelled our comly kyngeIn Notyngham, and well more;Coude he not here of Robyn Hode,In what countrë that he were.366But alway went good RobynBy halke and eke by hyll,And alway slewe the kyngës dere,And welt them at his wyll.367Than bespake a proude fostere,That stode by our kyngës kne:Yf ye wyll se good Robyn,Ye must do after me.368Take fyue of the best knyghtësThat be in your lede,And walke downe by yon abbay,And gete you monkës wede.369And I wyll be your ledës-man,And lede you the way,And or ye come to Notyngham,Myn hede then dare I lay,370That ye shall mete with good Robyn,On lyue yf that he be;Or ye come to Notyngham,With eyen ye shall hym se.371Full hast[ë]ly our kynge was dyght,So were his knyghtës fyue,Euerych of them in monkës wede,And hasted them thyder blyve.372Our kynge was grete aboue his cole,A brode hat on his crowne,Ryght as he were abbot-lyke,They rode up in-to the towne.373Styf botës our kynge had on,Forsoth as I you say;He rode syngynge to grenë wode,The couent was clothed in graye.374His male-hors and his gretë somersFolowed our kynge behynde,Tyll they came to grenë wode,A myle vnder the lynde.375There they met with good Robyn,Stondynge on the waye,And so dyde many a bolde archere,For soth as I you say.376Robyn toke the kyngës hors,Hastëly in that stede,And sayd, Syr abbot, by your leue,A whyle ye must abyde.377‘We be yemen of this foreste,Vnder the grenë-wode tre;We lyue by our kyngës dere,[Other shyft haue not wee.]378‘And ye haue chyrches and rentës both,And gold full grete plentë;Gyue vs some of your spendynge,For saynt[ë] charytë.’379Than bespake our cumly kynge,Anone than sayd he;I brought no more to grenë wodeBut forty pounde with me.380I haue layne at NotynghamThis fourtynyght with our kynge,And spent I haue full moche good,On many a grete lordynge.381And I haue but forty pounde,No more than haue I me;But yf I had an hondred pounde,I wolde vouch it safe on the.382Robyn toke the forty pounde,And departed it in two partye;Halfendell he gaue his mery men,And bad them mery to be.383Full curteysly Robyngan say;Syr, haue this for your spendyng;We shall mete another day;‘Gramercy,’ than sayd our kynge.384‘But well the greteth Edwarde, our kynge,And sent to the his seale,And byddeth the com to Notyngham,Both to mete and mele.’385He toke out the brodë targe,And sone he lete hym se;Robyn coud his courteysy,And set hym on his kne.386‘I loue no man in all the worldeSo well as I do my kynge;Welcome is my lordës seale;And, monke, for thy tydynge,387‘Syr abbot, for thy tydynges,To day thou shalt dyne with me,For the loue of my kynge,Under my trystell-tre.’388Forth he lad our comly kynge,Full fayre by the honde;Many a dere there was slayne,And full fast dyghtande.389Robyn toke a full grete horne,And loude he gan blowe;Seuen score of wyght yonge menCame redy on a rowe.390All they kneled on theyr kne,Full fayre before Robyn:The kynge sayd hym selfe vntyll,And swore by Saynt Austyn,391‘Here is a wonder semely syght;Me thynketh, by Goddës pyne,His men are more at his byddyngeThen my men be at myn.’392Full hast[ë]ly was theyr dyner idyght,And therto gan they gone;They serued our kynge with al theyr myght,Both Robyn and Lytell Johan.393Anone before our kynge was setThe fattë venyson,The good whyte brede, the good rede wyne,And therto the fyne ale and browne.394‘Make good chere,’ said Robyn,‘Abbot, for charytë;And for this ylkë tydynge,Blyssed mote thou be.395‘Now shalte thou se what lyfe we lede,Or thou hens wende;Than thou may enfourme our kynge,Whan ye togyder lende.’396Up they stertë all in hast,Theyr bowës were smartly bent;Our kynge was neuer so sore agast,He wende to haue be shente.397Two yerdës there were vp set,Thereto gan they gange;By fyfty pase, our kynge sayd,The merkës were to longe.398On euery syde a rose-garlonde,They shot vnder the lyne:‘Who so fayleth of the rose-garlonde,’ sayd Robyn,‘His takyll he shall tyne,399‘And yelde it to his mayster,Be it neuer so fyne;For no man wyll I spare,So drynke I ale or wyne:400‘And bere a buffet on his hede,I-wys ryght all bare:’And all that fell in Robyns lote,He smote them wonder sare.401Twyse Robyn shot aboute,And euer he cleued the wande,And so dyde good GylberteWith the Whytë Hande.402Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,For nothynge wolde they spare;When they fayled of the garlonde,Robyn smote them full sore.403At the last shot that Robyn shot,For all his frendës fare,Yet he fayled of the garlondeThre fyngers and mare.404Than bespake good Gylberte,And thus he gan say;‘Mayster,’ he sayd, ‘your takyll is lost,Stande forth and take your pay.’405‘If it be so,’ sayd Robyn,‘That may no better be,Syr abbot, I delyuer the myn arowe,I pray the, syr, serue thou me.’406‘It falleth not for myn ordre,’ sayd our kynge,‘Robyn, by thy leue,For to smyte no good yeman,For doute I sholde hym greue.’407‘Smyte on boldely,’ sayd Robyn,‘I giue the largë leue:’Anone our kynge, with that worde,He folde vp his sleue,408And sych a buffet he gaue Robyn,To grounde he yede full nere:‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,‘Thou arte a stalworthe frere.409‘There is pith in thyn arme,’ sayd Robyn,‘I trowe thou canst well shete:’Thus our kynge and Robyn HodeTogeder gan they mete.410Robyn behelde our comly kyngeWystly in the face,So dyde Syr Rycharde at the Le,And kneled downe in that place.411And so dyde all the wylde outlawes,Whan they se them knele:‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,Now I knowe you well.412‘Mercy then, Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,‘Vnder your trystyll-tre,Of thy goodnesse and thy grace,For my men and me!’413‘Yes, for God,’ sayd Robyn,‘And also God me saue,I askë mercy, my lorde the kynge,And for my men I craue.’414‘Yes, for God,’ than sayd our kynge,‘And therto sent I me.With that thou leue the grenë wode,And all thy company;415‘And come home, syr, to my courte,And there dwell with me.’‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,‘And ryght so shall it be.416‘I wyll come to your courte,Your seruyse for to se,And brynge with me of my menSeuen score and thre.417‘But me lykë well your seruyse,I [wyll] come agayne full soone,And shote at the donnë dere,As I am wonte to done.’THE VIII. FYTTE.418‘Haste thou ony grenë cloth,’ sayd our kynge,‘That thou wylte sell nowe to me?’‘Ye, for God,’ sayd Robyn,‘Thyrty yerdës and thre.’419‘Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,‘Now pray I the,Sell me some of that cloth,To me and my meynë.’420‘Yes, for God,’ then sayd Robyn,‘Or elles I were a fole;Another day ye wyll me clothe,I trowe, ayenst the Yole.’421The kynge kest of his colë then,A grene garment he dyde on,And euery knyght also, i-wys,Another had full sone.422Whan they were clothed in Lyncolne grene,They keste away theyr graye;‘Now we shall to Notyngham,’All thus our kynge gan say.423They bente theyr bowes, and forth they went,Shotynge all in-fere,Towarde the towne of Notyngham,Outlawes as they were.424Our kynge and Robyn rode togyder,For soth as I you say,And they shote plucke-buffet,As they went by the way.425And many a buffet our kynge wanOf Robyn Hode that day,And nothynge spared good RobynOur kynge in his pay.426‘So God me helpë,’ sayd our kynge,‘Thy game is nought to lere;I sholde not get a shote of the,Though I shote all this yere.’427All the people of NotynghamThey stode and behelde;They sawe nothynge but mantels of greneThat couered all the felde.428Than euery man to other gan say,‘I drede our kynge be slone;Comë Robyn Hode to the towne, i-wysOn lyue he lefte neuer one.’429Full hast[ë]ly they began to fle,Both yemen and knaues,And olde wyues that myght euyll goo,They hypped on theyr staues.430The kynge l[o]ughe full fast,And commaunded theym agayue;When they se our comly kynge,I-wys they were full fayne.431They ete and dranke, and made them glad,And sange with notës hye;Than bespake our comly kyngeTo Syr Rycharde at the Lee.432He gaue hym there his londe agayne,A good man he bad hym be;Robyn thanked our comly kynge,And set hym on his kne.433Had Robyn dwelled in the kyngës courteBut twelue monethes and thre,That [he had] spent an hondred pounde,And all his mennes fe.434In euery place where Robyn cameEuer more he layde downe,Both for knyghtës and for squyres,To gete hym grete renowne.435By than the yere was all agoneHe had no man but twayne,Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,With hym all for to gone.436Robyn sawe yonge men shoteFull fayre vpon a day;‘Alas!’ than sayd good Robyn,‘My welthe is went away.437‘Somtyme I was an archere good,A styffe and eke a stronge;I was compted the best archereThat was in mery Englonde.438‘Alas!’ then sayd good Robyn,‘Alas and well a woo!Yf I dwele lenger with the kynge,Sorowe wyll me sloo.’439Forth than went Robyn HodeTyll he came to our kynge:‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,Graunte me myn askynge.440‘I made a chapell in Bernysdale,That semely is to se,It is of Mary Magdaleyne,And thereto wolde I be.441‘I myght neuer in this seuen nyghtNo tyme to slepe ne wynke,Nother all these seuen dayesNother ete ne drynke.442‘Me longeth sore to Bernysdale,I may not be therfro;Barefote and wolwarde I haue hyghtThyder for to go.’443‘Yf it be so,’ than sayd our kynge,‘It may no better be,Seuen nyght I gyue the leue,No lengre, to dwell fro me.’444‘Gramercy, lorde,’ then sayd Robyn,And set hym on his kne;He toke his leuë full courteysly,To grenë wode then went he.445Whan he came to grenë wode,In a mery mornynge,There he herde the notës smallOf byrdës mery syngynge.446‘It is ferre gone,’ sayd Robyn,‘That I was last here;Me lyste a lytell for to shoteAt the donnë dere.’447Robyn slewe a full grete harte;His horne than gan he blow,That all the outlawes of that forestThat horne coud they knowe,448And gadred them togyder,In a lytell throwe.Seuen score of wyght yonge menCame redy on a rowe,449And fayre dyde of theyr hodes,And set them on theyr kne:‘Welcome,’ they sayd, ‘our [derë] mayster,Under this grenë-wode tre.’450Robyn dwelled in grenë wodeTwenty yere and two;For all drede of Edwarde our kynge,Agayne wolde he not goo.451Yet he was begyled, i-wys,Through a wycked woman,The pryoresse of Kyrkësly,That nye was of hys kynne:452For the loue of a knyght,Syr Roger of Donkesly,That was her ownë speciall;Full euyll motë they the!453They toke togyder theyr counsellRobyn Hode for to sle,And how they myght best do that dede,His banis for to be.454Than bespake good Robyn,In place where as he stode,‘To morow I muste to Kyrke[s]ly,Craftely to be leten blode.’455Syr Roger of Donkestere,By the pryoresse he lay,And there they betrayed good Robyn Hode,Through theyr falsë playe.456Cryst haue mercy on his soule,That dyed on the rode!For he was a good outlawe,And dyde pore men moch god.
THE VI. FYTTE.317Lythe and lysten, gentylmen,And herkyn to your songe;Howe the proudë shyref of Notyngham,And men of armys stronge,318Full fast cam to the hyë shyref,The contrë vp to route,And they besette the knyghtës castell,The wallës all aboute.319The proudë shyref loude gan crye,And sayde, Thou traytour knight,Thou kepest here the kynges enemys,Agaynst the lawe and right.320‘Syr, I wyll auowe that I haue done,The dedys that here be dyght,Vpon all the landës that I haue,As I am a trewë knyght.321‘Wende furth, sirs, on your way,And do no more to meTyll ye wyt oure kyngës wille,What he wyll say to the.’322The shyref thus had his answere,Without any lesynge;[Fu]rth he yede to London towne,All for to tel our kinge.323Ther he telde himof that knight,And eke of Robyn Hode,And also of the bolde archars,That were soo noble and gode.324‘He wyll auowe that he hath done,To mayntene the outlawes stronge;He wyll be lorde, and set you at nought,In all the northe londe.’325‘I wil be at Notyngham,’ saide our kynge,‘Within this fourteenyght,And take I wyll RobynHode,And so I wyll that knight.326‘Go nowe home, shyref,’ sayde our kynge,‘And do as I byd the;And ordeyngode archers ynowe,Of all the wydë contrë.’327The shyref had his leue i-take,And went hym on his way,And Robyn Hode to grenë wode,Vpon a certen day.328And Lytel John was hole of the aroweThat shot was in his kne,And dyd hym streyght to Robyn Hode,Vnder the grenë-wode tree.329RobynHode walked in the forest,Vnder the leuys grene;The proudë shyref of NotynghamThereof he had grete tene.330The shyref there fayled of Robyn Hode,He myght not haue his pray;Than he awayted this gentyll knyght,Bothe by nyght and day.331Euer he wayted the gentyll knyght,Syr Richarde at the Lee,As he went on haukynge by the ryuer-syde,And lete [his] haukës flee.332Toke he there this gentyll knight,With men of armys stronge,And led hym to Notyngham warde,Bounde bothe fote and hande.333The sheref sware a full grete othe,Bi hymthat dyed on rode,He had leuer thanan hundred poundThat he had RobynHode.334This harde the knyghtës wyfe,A fayr lady and a free;She set hir on a gode palfrey,To grenë wode anone rode she.335Whanne she camin the forest,Vnderthe grenë-wode tree,Fonde she there RobynHode,And al his fayre menë.336‘God the sauë, godë Robyn,And all thy company;For Our derë Ladyes sake,A bonë graunte thou me.337‘Late neuer my wedded lordeShamefully slayne be;He is fast bowne to Notingham warde,For the loue of the.’338Anone than saide goode RobynTo that lady so fre,What man hath your lorde [i-]take?. . . . . .339. . . . . .‘For soth as I the say;He is nat yet thre mylësPassed on his way.’340Vp than sterte gode Robyn,As man that had ben wode:‘Buske you, my mery men,For hym that dyed on rode.341‘And he that this sorowe forsaketh,By hym that dyed on tre,Shall he neuer in grenë wodeNo lenger dwel with me.’342Sone there were gode bowës bent,Mo than seuen score;Hedge ne dyche spared they noneThat was them before.343‘I make myn auowe to God,’ sayde Robyn,‘The sherif wolde I fayne see;And if I may hymtake,I-quyte shall it be.’344And whan they came to Notingham,They walked inthe strete;And withthe proudë sherif i-wysSonë can they mete.345‘Abyde, thou proudë sherif,’ he sayde,‘Abyde, and speke with me;Of some tidinges of oure kingeI wolde fayne here of the.346‘This seuen yere, by dere worthy God,Ne yede I this fast on fote;I make myn auowe to God, thou proudë sherif,It is nat for thy gode.’347Robyn bent a full goode bowe,An arrowe he drowe at wyll;He hit so the proudë sherifeVpon the grounde he lay full still.348And or he myght vp aryse,On his fete to stonde,He smote of the sherifs hedeWith his bright[ë] bronde.349‘Lye thou there, thou proudë sherife,Euyll mote thou cheue!There myght no man to the trusteb.The whyles thou were a lyue.’350His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes,That were so sharpe and kene,And layde on the sheryues men,And dryued them downe bydene.351Robyn stert to that knyght,And cut a two his bonde,And toke hym in his hand a bowe,And bad hym by hym stonde.352‘Leue thy hors the behynde,And lerne for to renne;Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,Through myrë, mosse, and fenne.353‘Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,Without ony leasynge,Tyll that I haue gete vs graceOf Edwarde, our comly kynge.’THE VII. FYTTE.354The kynge came to Notynghame,With knyghtës in grete araye,For to take that gentyll knyghtAnd Robyn Hode, and yf he may.355He asked men of that countrëAfter Robyn Hode,And after that gentyll knyght,That was so bolde and stout.356Whan they had tolde hym the caseOur kynge vnderstode ther tale,And seased in his hondeThe knyghtës londës all.357All the passe of LancasshyreHe went both ferre and nere,Tyll he came to Plomton Parke;He faylyd many of his dere.358There our kynge was wont to seHerdës many one,He coud vnneth fynde one dere,That bare ony good horne.359The kynge was wonder wroth withall,And swore by the Trynytë,‘I wolde I had Robyn Hode,With eyen I myght hym se.360‘And he that wolde smyte of the knyghtës hede,And brynge it to me,He shall haue the knyghtës londes,Syr Rycharde at the Le.361‘I gyue it hym with my charter,And sele it [with] my honde,To haue and holde for euer more,In all mery Englonde.’362Than bespake a fayre olde knyght,That was treue in his fay:A, my leegë lorde the kynge,One worde I shall you say.363There is no man in this countrëMay haue the knyghtës londes,Whyle Robyn Hode may ryde or gone,And bere a bowe in his hondes,364That he ne shall lese his hede,That is the best ball in his hode:Giue it no man, my lorde the kynge,That ye wyll any good.365Half a yere dwelled our comly kyngeIn Notyngham, and well more;Coude he not here of Robyn Hode,In what countrë that he were.366But alway went good RobynBy halke and eke by hyll,And alway slewe the kyngës dere,And welt them at his wyll.367Than bespake a proude fostere,That stode by our kyngës kne:Yf ye wyll se good Robyn,Ye must do after me.368Take fyue of the best knyghtësThat be in your lede,And walke downe by yon abbay,And gete you monkës wede.369And I wyll be your ledës-man,And lede you the way,And or ye come to Notyngham,Myn hede then dare I lay,370That ye shall mete with good Robyn,On lyue yf that he be;Or ye come to Notyngham,With eyen ye shall hym se.371Full hast[ë]ly our kynge was dyght,So were his knyghtës fyue,Euerych of them in monkës wede,And hasted them thyder blyve.372Our kynge was grete aboue his cole,A brode hat on his crowne,Ryght as he were abbot-lyke,They rode up in-to the towne.373Styf botës our kynge had on,Forsoth as I you say;He rode syngynge to grenë wode,The couent was clothed in graye.374His male-hors and his gretë somersFolowed our kynge behynde,Tyll they came to grenë wode,A myle vnder the lynde.375There they met with good Robyn,Stondynge on the waye,And so dyde many a bolde archere,For soth as I you say.376Robyn toke the kyngës hors,Hastëly in that stede,And sayd, Syr abbot, by your leue,A whyle ye must abyde.377‘We be yemen of this foreste,Vnder the grenë-wode tre;We lyue by our kyngës dere,[Other shyft haue not wee.]378‘And ye haue chyrches and rentës both,And gold full grete plentë;Gyue vs some of your spendynge,For saynt[ë] charytë.’379Than bespake our cumly kynge,Anone than sayd he;I brought no more to grenë wodeBut forty pounde with me.380I haue layne at NotynghamThis fourtynyght with our kynge,And spent I haue full moche good,On many a grete lordynge.381And I haue but forty pounde,No more than haue I me;But yf I had an hondred pounde,I wolde vouch it safe on the.382Robyn toke the forty pounde,And departed it in two partye;Halfendell he gaue his mery men,And bad them mery to be.383Full curteysly Robyngan say;Syr, haue this for your spendyng;We shall mete another day;‘Gramercy,’ than sayd our kynge.384‘But well the greteth Edwarde, our kynge,And sent to the his seale,And byddeth the com to Notyngham,Both to mete and mele.’385He toke out the brodë targe,And sone he lete hym se;Robyn coud his courteysy,And set hym on his kne.386‘I loue no man in all the worldeSo well as I do my kynge;Welcome is my lordës seale;And, monke, for thy tydynge,387‘Syr abbot, for thy tydynges,To day thou shalt dyne with me,For the loue of my kynge,Under my trystell-tre.’388Forth he lad our comly kynge,Full fayre by the honde;Many a dere there was slayne,And full fast dyghtande.389Robyn toke a full grete horne,And loude he gan blowe;Seuen score of wyght yonge menCame redy on a rowe.390All they kneled on theyr kne,Full fayre before Robyn:The kynge sayd hym selfe vntyll,And swore by Saynt Austyn,391‘Here is a wonder semely syght;Me thynketh, by Goddës pyne,His men are more at his byddyngeThen my men be at myn.’392Full hast[ë]ly was theyr dyner idyght,And therto gan they gone;They serued our kynge with al theyr myght,Both Robyn and Lytell Johan.393Anone before our kynge was setThe fattë venyson,The good whyte brede, the good rede wyne,And therto the fyne ale and browne.394‘Make good chere,’ said Robyn,‘Abbot, for charytë;And for this ylkë tydynge,Blyssed mote thou be.395‘Now shalte thou se what lyfe we lede,Or thou hens wende;Than thou may enfourme our kynge,Whan ye togyder lende.’396Up they stertë all in hast,Theyr bowës were smartly bent;Our kynge was neuer so sore agast,He wende to haue be shente.397Two yerdës there were vp set,Thereto gan they gange;By fyfty pase, our kynge sayd,The merkës were to longe.398On euery syde a rose-garlonde,They shot vnder the lyne:‘Who so fayleth of the rose-garlonde,’ sayd Robyn,‘His takyll he shall tyne,399‘And yelde it to his mayster,Be it neuer so fyne;For no man wyll I spare,So drynke I ale or wyne:400‘And bere a buffet on his hede,I-wys ryght all bare:’And all that fell in Robyns lote,He smote them wonder sare.401Twyse Robyn shot aboute,And euer he cleued the wande,And so dyde good GylberteWith the Whytë Hande.402Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,For nothynge wolde they spare;When they fayled of the garlonde,Robyn smote them full sore.403At the last shot that Robyn shot,For all his frendës fare,Yet he fayled of the garlondeThre fyngers and mare.404Than bespake good Gylberte,And thus he gan say;‘Mayster,’ he sayd, ‘your takyll is lost,Stande forth and take your pay.’405‘If it be so,’ sayd Robyn,‘That may no better be,Syr abbot, I delyuer the myn arowe,I pray the, syr, serue thou me.’406‘It falleth not for myn ordre,’ sayd our kynge,‘Robyn, by thy leue,For to smyte no good yeman,For doute I sholde hym greue.’407‘Smyte on boldely,’ sayd Robyn,‘I giue the largë leue:’Anone our kynge, with that worde,He folde vp his sleue,408And sych a buffet he gaue Robyn,To grounde he yede full nere:‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,‘Thou arte a stalworthe frere.409‘There is pith in thyn arme,’ sayd Robyn,‘I trowe thou canst well shete:’Thus our kynge and Robyn HodeTogeder gan they mete.410Robyn behelde our comly kyngeWystly in the face,So dyde Syr Rycharde at the Le,And kneled downe in that place.411And so dyde all the wylde outlawes,Whan they se them knele:‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,Now I knowe you well.412‘Mercy then, Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,‘Vnder your trystyll-tre,Of thy goodnesse and thy grace,For my men and me!’413‘Yes, for God,’ sayd Robyn,‘And also God me saue,I askë mercy, my lorde the kynge,And for my men I craue.’414‘Yes, for God,’ than sayd our kynge,‘And therto sent I me.With that thou leue the grenë wode,And all thy company;415‘And come home, syr, to my courte,And there dwell with me.’‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,‘And ryght so shall it be.416‘I wyll come to your courte,Your seruyse for to se,And brynge with me of my menSeuen score and thre.417‘But me lykë well your seruyse,I [wyll] come agayne full soone,And shote at the donnë dere,As I am wonte to done.’THE VIII. FYTTE.418‘Haste thou ony grenë cloth,’ sayd our kynge,‘That thou wylte sell nowe to me?’‘Ye, for God,’ sayd Robyn,‘Thyrty yerdës and thre.’419‘Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,‘Now pray I the,Sell me some of that cloth,To me and my meynë.’420‘Yes, for God,’ then sayd Robyn,‘Or elles I were a fole;Another day ye wyll me clothe,I trowe, ayenst the Yole.’421The kynge kest of his colë then,A grene garment he dyde on,And euery knyght also, i-wys,Another had full sone.422Whan they were clothed in Lyncolne grene,They keste away theyr graye;‘Now we shall to Notyngham,’All thus our kynge gan say.423They bente theyr bowes, and forth they went,Shotynge all in-fere,Towarde the towne of Notyngham,Outlawes as they were.424Our kynge and Robyn rode togyder,For soth as I you say,And they shote plucke-buffet,As they went by the way.425And many a buffet our kynge wanOf Robyn Hode that day,And nothynge spared good RobynOur kynge in his pay.426‘So God me helpë,’ sayd our kynge,‘Thy game is nought to lere;I sholde not get a shote of the,Though I shote all this yere.’427All the people of NotynghamThey stode and behelde;They sawe nothynge but mantels of greneThat couered all the felde.428Than euery man to other gan say,‘I drede our kynge be slone;Comë Robyn Hode to the towne, i-wysOn lyue he lefte neuer one.’429Full hast[ë]ly they began to fle,Both yemen and knaues,And olde wyues that myght euyll goo,They hypped on theyr staues.430The kynge l[o]ughe full fast,And commaunded theym agayue;When they se our comly kynge,I-wys they were full fayne.431They ete and dranke, and made them glad,And sange with notës hye;Than bespake our comly kyngeTo Syr Rycharde at the Lee.432He gaue hym there his londe agayne,A good man he bad hym be;Robyn thanked our comly kynge,And set hym on his kne.433Had Robyn dwelled in the kyngës courteBut twelue monethes and thre,That [he had] spent an hondred pounde,And all his mennes fe.434In euery place where Robyn cameEuer more he layde downe,Both for knyghtës and for squyres,To gete hym grete renowne.435By than the yere was all agoneHe had no man but twayne,Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,With hym all for to gone.436Robyn sawe yonge men shoteFull fayre vpon a day;‘Alas!’ than sayd good Robyn,‘My welthe is went away.437‘Somtyme I was an archere good,A styffe and eke a stronge;I was compted the best archereThat was in mery Englonde.438‘Alas!’ then sayd good Robyn,‘Alas and well a woo!Yf I dwele lenger with the kynge,Sorowe wyll me sloo.’439Forth than went Robyn HodeTyll he came to our kynge:‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,Graunte me myn askynge.440‘I made a chapell in Bernysdale,That semely is to se,It is of Mary Magdaleyne,And thereto wolde I be.441‘I myght neuer in this seuen nyghtNo tyme to slepe ne wynke,Nother all these seuen dayesNother ete ne drynke.442‘Me longeth sore to Bernysdale,I may not be therfro;Barefote and wolwarde I haue hyghtThyder for to go.’443‘Yf it be so,’ than sayd our kynge,‘It may no better be,Seuen nyght I gyue the leue,No lengre, to dwell fro me.’444‘Gramercy, lorde,’ then sayd Robyn,And set hym on his kne;He toke his leuë full courteysly,To grenë wode then went he.445Whan he came to grenë wode,In a mery mornynge,There he herde the notës smallOf byrdës mery syngynge.446‘It is ferre gone,’ sayd Robyn,‘That I was last here;Me lyste a lytell for to shoteAt the donnë dere.’447Robyn slewe a full grete harte;His horne than gan he blow,That all the outlawes of that forestThat horne coud they knowe,448And gadred them togyder,In a lytell throwe.Seuen score of wyght yonge menCame redy on a rowe,449And fayre dyde of theyr hodes,And set them on theyr kne:‘Welcome,’ they sayd, ‘our [derë] mayster,Under this grenë-wode tre.’450Robyn dwelled in grenë wodeTwenty yere and two;For all drede of Edwarde our kynge,Agayne wolde he not goo.451Yet he was begyled, i-wys,Through a wycked woman,The pryoresse of Kyrkësly,That nye was of hys kynne:452For the loue of a knyght,Syr Roger of Donkesly,That was her ownë speciall;Full euyll motë they the!453They toke togyder theyr counsellRobyn Hode for to sle,And how they myght best do that dede,His banis for to be.454Than bespake good Robyn,In place where as he stode,‘To morow I muste to Kyrke[s]ly,Craftely to be leten blode.’455Syr Roger of Donkestere,By the pryoresse he lay,And there they betrayed good Robyn Hode,Through theyr falsë playe.456Cryst haue mercy on his soule,That dyed on the rode!For he was a good outlawe,And dyde pore men moch god.
THE VI. FYTTE.
THE VI. FYTTE.
317Lythe and lysten, gentylmen,And herkyn to your songe;Howe the proudë shyref of Notyngham,And men of armys stronge,
317
Lythe and lysten, gentylmen,
And herkyn to your songe;
Howe the proudë shyref of Notyngham,
And men of armys stronge,
318Full fast cam to the hyë shyref,The contrë vp to route,And they besette the knyghtës castell,The wallës all aboute.
318
Full fast cam to the hyë shyref,
The contrë vp to route,
And they besette the knyghtës castell,
The wallës all aboute.
319The proudë shyref loude gan crye,And sayde, Thou traytour knight,Thou kepest here the kynges enemys,Agaynst the lawe and right.
319
The proudë shyref loude gan crye,
And sayde, Thou traytour knight,
Thou kepest here the kynges enemys,
Agaynst the lawe and right.
320‘Syr, I wyll auowe that I haue done,The dedys that here be dyght,Vpon all the landës that I haue,As I am a trewë knyght.
320
‘Syr, I wyll auowe that I haue done,
The dedys that here be dyght,
Vpon all the landës that I haue,
As I am a trewë knyght.
321‘Wende furth, sirs, on your way,And do no more to meTyll ye wyt oure kyngës wille,What he wyll say to the.’
321
‘Wende furth, sirs, on your way,
And do no more to me
Tyll ye wyt oure kyngës wille,
What he wyll say to the.’
322The shyref thus had his answere,Without any lesynge;[Fu]rth he yede to London towne,All for to tel our kinge.
322
The shyref thus had his answere,
Without any lesynge;
[Fu]rth he yede to London towne,
All for to tel our kinge.
323Ther he telde himof that knight,And eke of Robyn Hode,And also of the bolde archars,That were soo noble and gode.
323
Ther he telde himof that knight,
And eke of Robyn Hode,
And also of the bolde archars,
That were soo noble and gode.
324‘He wyll auowe that he hath done,To mayntene the outlawes stronge;He wyll be lorde, and set you at nought,In all the northe londe.’
324
‘He wyll auowe that he hath done,
To mayntene the outlawes stronge;
He wyll be lorde, and set you at nought,
In all the northe londe.’
325‘I wil be at Notyngham,’ saide our kynge,‘Within this fourteenyght,And take I wyll RobynHode,And so I wyll that knight.
325
‘I wil be at Notyngham,’ saide our kynge,
‘Within this fourteenyght,
And take I wyll RobynHode,
And so I wyll that knight.
326‘Go nowe home, shyref,’ sayde our kynge,‘And do as I byd the;And ordeyngode archers ynowe,Of all the wydë contrë.’
326
‘Go nowe home, shyref,’ sayde our kynge,
‘And do as I byd the;
And ordeyngode archers ynowe,
Of all the wydë contrë.’
327The shyref had his leue i-take,And went hym on his way,And Robyn Hode to grenë wode,Vpon a certen day.
327
The shyref had his leue i-take,
And went hym on his way,
And Robyn Hode to grenë wode,
Vpon a certen day.
328And Lytel John was hole of the aroweThat shot was in his kne,And dyd hym streyght to Robyn Hode,Vnder the grenë-wode tree.
328
And Lytel John was hole of the arowe
That shot was in his kne,
And dyd hym streyght to Robyn Hode,
Vnder the grenë-wode tree.
329RobynHode walked in the forest,Vnder the leuys grene;The proudë shyref of NotynghamThereof he had grete tene.
329
RobynHode walked in the forest,
Vnder the leuys grene;
The proudë shyref of Notyngham
Thereof he had grete tene.
330The shyref there fayled of Robyn Hode,He myght not haue his pray;Than he awayted this gentyll knyght,Bothe by nyght and day.
330
The shyref there fayled of Robyn Hode,
He myght not haue his pray;
Than he awayted this gentyll knyght,
Bothe by nyght and day.
331Euer he wayted the gentyll knyght,Syr Richarde at the Lee,As he went on haukynge by the ryuer-syde,And lete [his] haukës flee.
331
Euer he wayted the gentyll knyght,
Syr Richarde at the Lee,
As he went on haukynge by the ryuer-syde,
And lete [his] haukës flee.
332Toke he there this gentyll knight,With men of armys stronge,And led hym to Notyngham warde,Bounde bothe fote and hande.
332
Toke he there this gentyll knight,
With men of armys stronge,
And led hym to Notyngham warde,
Bounde bothe fote and hande.
333The sheref sware a full grete othe,Bi hymthat dyed on rode,He had leuer thanan hundred poundThat he had RobynHode.
333
The sheref sware a full grete othe,
Bi hymthat dyed on rode,
He had leuer thanan hundred pound
That he had RobynHode.
334This harde the knyghtës wyfe,A fayr lady and a free;She set hir on a gode palfrey,To grenë wode anone rode she.
334
This harde the knyghtës wyfe,
A fayr lady and a free;
She set hir on a gode palfrey,
To grenë wode anone rode she.
335Whanne she camin the forest,Vnderthe grenë-wode tree,Fonde she there RobynHode,And al his fayre menë.
335
Whanne she camin the forest,
Vnderthe grenë-wode tree,
Fonde she there RobynHode,
And al his fayre menë.
336‘God the sauë, godë Robyn,And all thy company;For Our derë Ladyes sake,A bonë graunte thou me.
336
‘God the sauë, godë Robyn,
And all thy company;
For Our derë Ladyes sake,
A bonë graunte thou me.
337‘Late neuer my wedded lordeShamefully slayne be;He is fast bowne to Notingham warde,For the loue of the.’
337
‘Late neuer my wedded lorde
Shamefully slayne be;
He is fast bowne to Notingham warde,
For the loue of the.’
338Anone than saide goode RobynTo that lady so fre,What man hath your lorde [i-]take?. . . . . .
338
Anone than saide goode Robyn
To that lady so fre,
What man hath your lorde [i-]take?
. . . . . .
339. . . . . .‘For soth as I the say;He is nat yet thre mylësPassed on his way.’
339
. . . . . .
‘For soth as I the say;
He is nat yet thre mylës
Passed on his way.’
340Vp than sterte gode Robyn,As man that had ben wode:‘Buske you, my mery men,For hym that dyed on rode.
340
Vp than sterte gode Robyn,
As man that had ben wode:
‘Buske you, my mery men,
For hym that dyed on rode.
341‘And he that this sorowe forsaketh,By hym that dyed on tre,Shall he neuer in grenë wodeNo lenger dwel with me.’
341
‘And he that this sorowe forsaketh,
By hym that dyed on tre,
Shall he neuer in grenë wode
No lenger dwel with me.’
342Sone there were gode bowës bent,Mo than seuen score;Hedge ne dyche spared they noneThat was them before.
342
Sone there were gode bowës bent,
Mo than seuen score;
Hedge ne dyche spared they none
That was them before.
343‘I make myn auowe to God,’ sayde Robyn,‘The sherif wolde I fayne see;And if I may hymtake,I-quyte shall it be.’
343
‘I make myn auowe to God,’ sayde Robyn,
‘The sherif wolde I fayne see;
And if I may hymtake,
I-quyte shall it be.’
344And whan they came to Notingham,They walked inthe strete;And withthe proudë sherif i-wysSonë can they mete.
344
And whan they came to Notingham,
They walked inthe strete;
And withthe proudë sherif i-wys
Sonë can they mete.
345‘Abyde, thou proudë sherif,’ he sayde,‘Abyde, and speke with me;Of some tidinges of oure kingeI wolde fayne here of the.
345
‘Abyde, thou proudë sherif,’ he sayde,
‘Abyde, and speke with me;
Of some tidinges of oure kinge
I wolde fayne here of the.
346‘This seuen yere, by dere worthy God,Ne yede I this fast on fote;I make myn auowe to God, thou proudë sherif,It is nat for thy gode.’
346
‘This seuen yere, by dere worthy God,
Ne yede I this fast on fote;
I make myn auowe to God, thou proudë sherif,
It is nat for thy gode.’
347Robyn bent a full goode bowe,An arrowe he drowe at wyll;He hit so the proudë sherifeVpon the grounde he lay full still.
347
Robyn bent a full goode bowe,
An arrowe he drowe at wyll;
He hit so the proudë sherife
Vpon the grounde he lay full still.
348And or he myght vp aryse,On his fete to stonde,He smote of the sherifs hedeWith his bright[ë] bronde.
348
And or he myght vp aryse,
On his fete to stonde,
He smote of the sherifs hede
With his bright[ë] bronde.
349‘Lye thou there, thou proudë sherife,Euyll mote thou cheue!There myght no man to the trusteb.The whyles thou were a lyue.’
349
‘Lye thou there, thou proudë sherife,
Euyll mote thou cheue!
There myght no man to the truste
b.
The whyles thou were a lyue.’
350His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes,That were so sharpe and kene,And layde on the sheryues men,And dryued them downe bydene.
350
His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes,
That were so sharpe and kene,
And layde on the sheryues men,
And dryued them downe bydene.
351Robyn stert to that knyght,And cut a two his bonde,And toke hym in his hand a bowe,And bad hym by hym stonde.
351
Robyn stert to that knyght,
And cut a two his bonde,
And toke hym in his hand a bowe,
And bad hym by hym stonde.
352‘Leue thy hors the behynde,And lerne for to renne;Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,Through myrë, mosse, and fenne.
352
‘Leue thy hors the behynde,
And lerne for to renne;
Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,
Through myrë, mosse, and fenne.
353‘Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,Without ony leasynge,Tyll that I haue gete vs graceOf Edwarde, our comly kynge.’
353
‘Thou shalt with me to grenë wode,
Without ony leasynge,
Tyll that I haue gete vs grace
Of Edwarde, our comly kynge.’
THE VII. FYTTE.
THE VII. FYTTE.
354The kynge came to Notynghame,With knyghtës in grete araye,For to take that gentyll knyghtAnd Robyn Hode, and yf he may.
354
The kynge came to Notynghame,
With knyghtës in grete araye,
For to take that gentyll knyght
And Robyn Hode, and yf he may.
355He asked men of that countrëAfter Robyn Hode,And after that gentyll knyght,That was so bolde and stout.
355
He asked men of that countrë
After Robyn Hode,
And after that gentyll knyght,
That was so bolde and stout.
356Whan they had tolde hym the caseOur kynge vnderstode ther tale,And seased in his hondeThe knyghtës londës all.
356
Whan they had tolde hym the case
Our kynge vnderstode ther tale,
And seased in his honde
The knyghtës londës all.
357All the passe of LancasshyreHe went both ferre and nere,Tyll he came to Plomton Parke;He faylyd many of his dere.
357
All the passe of Lancasshyre
He went both ferre and nere,
Tyll he came to Plomton Parke;
He faylyd many of his dere.
358There our kynge was wont to seHerdës many one,He coud vnneth fynde one dere,That bare ony good horne.
358
There our kynge was wont to se
Herdës many one,
He coud vnneth fynde one dere,
That bare ony good horne.
359The kynge was wonder wroth withall,And swore by the Trynytë,‘I wolde I had Robyn Hode,With eyen I myght hym se.
359
The kynge was wonder wroth withall,
And swore by the Trynytë,
‘I wolde I had Robyn Hode,
With eyen I myght hym se.
360‘And he that wolde smyte of the knyghtës hede,And brynge it to me,He shall haue the knyghtës londes,Syr Rycharde at the Le.
360
‘And he that wolde smyte of the knyghtës hede,
And brynge it to me,
He shall haue the knyghtës londes,
Syr Rycharde at the Le.
361‘I gyue it hym with my charter,And sele it [with] my honde,To haue and holde for euer more,In all mery Englonde.’
361
‘I gyue it hym with my charter,
And sele it [with] my honde,
To haue and holde for euer more,
In all mery Englonde.’
362Than bespake a fayre olde knyght,That was treue in his fay:A, my leegë lorde the kynge,One worde I shall you say.
362
Than bespake a fayre olde knyght,
That was treue in his fay:
A, my leegë lorde the kynge,
One worde I shall you say.
363There is no man in this countrëMay haue the knyghtës londes,Whyle Robyn Hode may ryde or gone,And bere a bowe in his hondes,
363
There is no man in this countrë
May haue the knyghtës londes,
Whyle Robyn Hode may ryde or gone,
And bere a bowe in his hondes,
364That he ne shall lese his hede,That is the best ball in his hode:Giue it no man, my lorde the kynge,That ye wyll any good.
364
That he ne shall lese his hede,
That is the best ball in his hode:
Giue it no man, my lorde the kynge,
That ye wyll any good.
365Half a yere dwelled our comly kyngeIn Notyngham, and well more;Coude he not here of Robyn Hode,In what countrë that he were.
365
Half a yere dwelled our comly kynge
In Notyngham, and well more;
Coude he not here of Robyn Hode,
In what countrë that he were.
366But alway went good RobynBy halke and eke by hyll,And alway slewe the kyngës dere,And welt them at his wyll.
366
But alway went good Robyn
By halke and eke by hyll,
And alway slewe the kyngës dere,
And welt them at his wyll.
367Than bespake a proude fostere,That stode by our kyngës kne:Yf ye wyll se good Robyn,Ye must do after me.
367
Than bespake a proude fostere,
That stode by our kyngës kne:
Yf ye wyll se good Robyn,
Ye must do after me.
368Take fyue of the best knyghtësThat be in your lede,And walke downe by yon abbay,And gete you monkës wede.
368
Take fyue of the best knyghtës
That be in your lede,
And walke downe by yon abbay,
And gete you monkës wede.
369And I wyll be your ledës-man,And lede you the way,And or ye come to Notyngham,Myn hede then dare I lay,
369
And I wyll be your ledës-man,
And lede you the way,
And or ye come to Notyngham,
Myn hede then dare I lay,
370That ye shall mete with good Robyn,On lyue yf that he be;Or ye come to Notyngham,With eyen ye shall hym se.
370
That ye shall mete with good Robyn,
On lyue yf that he be;
Or ye come to Notyngham,
With eyen ye shall hym se.
371Full hast[ë]ly our kynge was dyght,So were his knyghtës fyue,Euerych of them in monkës wede,And hasted them thyder blyve.
371
Full hast[ë]ly our kynge was dyght,
So were his knyghtës fyue,
Euerych of them in monkës wede,
And hasted them thyder blyve.
372Our kynge was grete aboue his cole,A brode hat on his crowne,Ryght as he were abbot-lyke,They rode up in-to the towne.
372
Our kynge was grete aboue his cole,
A brode hat on his crowne,
Ryght as he were abbot-lyke,
They rode up in-to the towne.
373Styf botës our kynge had on,Forsoth as I you say;He rode syngynge to grenë wode,The couent was clothed in graye.
373
Styf botës our kynge had on,
Forsoth as I you say;
He rode syngynge to grenë wode,
The couent was clothed in graye.
374His male-hors and his gretë somersFolowed our kynge behynde,Tyll they came to grenë wode,A myle vnder the lynde.
374
His male-hors and his gretë somers
Folowed our kynge behynde,
Tyll they came to grenë wode,
A myle vnder the lynde.
375There they met with good Robyn,Stondynge on the waye,And so dyde many a bolde archere,For soth as I you say.
375
There they met with good Robyn,
Stondynge on the waye,
And so dyde many a bolde archere,
For soth as I you say.
376Robyn toke the kyngës hors,Hastëly in that stede,And sayd, Syr abbot, by your leue,A whyle ye must abyde.
376
Robyn toke the kyngës hors,
Hastëly in that stede,
And sayd, Syr abbot, by your leue,
A whyle ye must abyde.
377‘We be yemen of this foreste,Vnder the grenë-wode tre;We lyue by our kyngës dere,[Other shyft haue not wee.]
377
‘We be yemen of this foreste,
Vnder the grenë-wode tre;
We lyue by our kyngës dere,
[Other shyft haue not wee.]
378‘And ye haue chyrches and rentës both,And gold full grete plentë;Gyue vs some of your spendynge,For saynt[ë] charytë.’
378
‘And ye haue chyrches and rentës both,
And gold full grete plentë;
Gyue vs some of your spendynge,
For saynt[ë] charytë.’
379Than bespake our cumly kynge,Anone than sayd he;I brought no more to grenë wodeBut forty pounde with me.
379
Than bespake our cumly kynge,
Anone than sayd he;
I brought no more to grenë wode
But forty pounde with me.
380I haue layne at NotynghamThis fourtynyght with our kynge,And spent I haue full moche good,On many a grete lordynge.
380
I haue layne at Notyngham
This fourtynyght with our kynge,
And spent I haue full moche good,
On many a grete lordynge.
381And I haue but forty pounde,No more than haue I me;But yf I had an hondred pounde,I wolde vouch it safe on the.
381
And I haue but forty pounde,
No more than haue I me;
But yf I had an hondred pounde,
I wolde vouch it safe on the.
382Robyn toke the forty pounde,And departed it in two partye;Halfendell he gaue his mery men,And bad them mery to be.
382
Robyn toke the forty pounde,
And departed it in two partye;
Halfendell he gaue his mery men,
And bad them mery to be.
383Full curteysly Robyngan say;Syr, haue this for your spendyng;We shall mete another day;‘Gramercy,’ than sayd our kynge.
383
Full curteysly Robyngan say;
Syr, haue this for your spendyng;
We shall mete another day;
‘Gramercy,’ than sayd our kynge.
384‘But well the greteth Edwarde, our kynge,And sent to the his seale,And byddeth the com to Notyngham,Both to mete and mele.’
384
‘But well the greteth Edwarde, our kynge,
And sent to the his seale,
And byddeth the com to Notyngham,
Both to mete and mele.’
385He toke out the brodë targe,And sone he lete hym se;Robyn coud his courteysy,And set hym on his kne.
385
He toke out the brodë targe,
And sone he lete hym se;
Robyn coud his courteysy,
And set hym on his kne.
386‘I loue no man in all the worldeSo well as I do my kynge;Welcome is my lordës seale;And, monke, for thy tydynge,
386
‘I loue no man in all the worlde
So well as I do my kynge;
Welcome is my lordës seale;
And, monke, for thy tydynge,
387‘Syr abbot, for thy tydynges,To day thou shalt dyne with me,For the loue of my kynge,Under my trystell-tre.’
387
‘Syr abbot, for thy tydynges,
To day thou shalt dyne with me,
For the loue of my kynge,
Under my trystell-tre.’
388Forth he lad our comly kynge,Full fayre by the honde;Many a dere there was slayne,And full fast dyghtande.
388
Forth he lad our comly kynge,
Full fayre by the honde;
Many a dere there was slayne,
And full fast dyghtande.
389Robyn toke a full grete horne,And loude he gan blowe;Seuen score of wyght yonge menCame redy on a rowe.
389
Robyn toke a full grete horne,
And loude he gan blowe;
Seuen score of wyght yonge men
Came redy on a rowe.
390All they kneled on theyr kne,Full fayre before Robyn:The kynge sayd hym selfe vntyll,And swore by Saynt Austyn,
390
All they kneled on theyr kne,
Full fayre before Robyn:
The kynge sayd hym selfe vntyll,
And swore by Saynt Austyn,
391‘Here is a wonder semely syght;Me thynketh, by Goddës pyne,His men are more at his byddyngeThen my men be at myn.’
391
‘Here is a wonder semely syght;
Me thynketh, by Goddës pyne,
His men are more at his byddynge
Then my men be at myn.’
392Full hast[ë]ly was theyr dyner idyght,And therto gan they gone;They serued our kynge with al theyr myght,Both Robyn and Lytell Johan.
392
Full hast[ë]ly was theyr dyner idyght,
And therto gan they gone;
They serued our kynge with al theyr myght,
Both Robyn and Lytell Johan.
393Anone before our kynge was setThe fattë venyson,The good whyte brede, the good rede wyne,And therto the fyne ale and browne.
393
Anone before our kynge was set
The fattë venyson,
The good whyte brede, the good rede wyne,
And therto the fyne ale and browne.
394‘Make good chere,’ said Robyn,‘Abbot, for charytë;And for this ylkë tydynge,Blyssed mote thou be.
394
‘Make good chere,’ said Robyn,
‘Abbot, for charytë;
And for this ylkë tydynge,
Blyssed mote thou be.
395‘Now shalte thou se what lyfe we lede,Or thou hens wende;Than thou may enfourme our kynge,Whan ye togyder lende.’
395
‘Now shalte thou se what lyfe we lede,
Or thou hens wende;
Than thou may enfourme our kynge,
Whan ye togyder lende.’
396Up they stertë all in hast,Theyr bowës were smartly bent;Our kynge was neuer so sore agast,He wende to haue be shente.
396
Up they stertë all in hast,
Theyr bowës were smartly bent;
Our kynge was neuer so sore agast,
He wende to haue be shente.
397Two yerdës there were vp set,Thereto gan they gange;By fyfty pase, our kynge sayd,The merkës were to longe.
397
Two yerdës there were vp set,
Thereto gan they gange;
By fyfty pase, our kynge sayd,
The merkës were to longe.
398On euery syde a rose-garlonde,They shot vnder the lyne:‘Who so fayleth of the rose-garlonde,’ sayd Robyn,‘His takyll he shall tyne,
398
On euery syde a rose-garlonde,
They shot vnder the lyne:
‘Who so fayleth of the rose-garlonde,’ sayd Robyn,
‘His takyll he shall tyne,
399‘And yelde it to his mayster,Be it neuer so fyne;For no man wyll I spare,So drynke I ale or wyne:
399
‘And yelde it to his mayster,
Be it neuer so fyne;
For no man wyll I spare,
So drynke I ale or wyne:
400‘And bere a buffet on his hede,I-wys ryght all bare:’And all that fell in Robyns lote,He smote them wonder sare.
400
‘And bere a buffet on his hede,
I-wys ryght all bare:’
And all that fell in Robyns lote,
He smote them wonder sare.
401Twyse Robyn shot aboute,And euer he cleued the wande,And so dyde good GylberteWith the Whytë Hande.
401
Twyse Robyn shot aboute,
And euer he cleued the wande,
And so dyde good Gylberte
With the Whytë Hande.
402Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,For nothynge wolde they spare;When they fayled of the garlonde,Robyn smote them full sore.
402
Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,
For nothynge wolde they spare;
When they fayled of the garlonde,
Robyn smote them full sore.
403At the last shot that Robyn shot,For all his frendës fare,Yet he fayled of the garlondeThre fyngers and mare.
403
At the last shot that Robyn shot,
For all his frendës fare,
Yet he fayled of the garlonde
Thre fyngers and mare.
404Than bespake good Gylberte,And thus he gan say;‘Mayster,’ he sayd, ‘your takyll is lost,Stande forth and take your pay.’
404
Than bespake good Gylberte,
And thus he gan say;
‘Mayster,’ he sayd, ‘your takyll is lost,
Stande forth and take your pay.’
405‘If it be so,’ sayd Robyn,‘That may no better be,Syr abbot, I delyuer the myn arowe,I pray the, syr, serue thou me.’
405
‘If it be so,’ sayd Robyn,
‘That may no better be,
Syr abbot, I delyuer the myn arowe,
I pray the, syr, serue thou me.’
406‘It falleth not for myn ordre,’ sayd our kynge,‘Robyn, by thy leue,For to smyte no good yeman,For doute I sholde hym greue.’
406
‘It falleth not for myn ordre,’ sayd our kynge,
‘Robyn, by thy leue,
For to smyte no good yeman,
For doute I sholde hym greue.’
407‘Smyte on boldely,’ sayd Robyn,‘I giue the largë leue:’Anone our kynge, with that worde,He folde vp his sleue,
407
‘Smyte on boldely,’ sayd Robyn,
‘I giue the largë leue:’
Anone our kynge, with that worde,
He folde vp his sleue,
408And sych a buffet he gaue Robyn,To grounde he yede full nere:‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,‘Thou arte a stalworthe frere.
408
And sych a buffet he gaue Robyn,
To grounde he yede full nere:
‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Thou arte a stalworthe frere.
409‘There is pith in thyn arme,’ sayd Robyn,‘I trowe thou canst well shete:’Thus our kynge and Robyn HodeTogeder gan they mete.
409
‘There is pith in thyn arme,’ sayd Robyn,
‘I trowe thou canst well shete:’
Thus our kynge and Robyn Hode
Togeder gan they mete.
410Robyn behelde our comly kyngeWystly in the face,So dyde Syr Rycharde at the Le,And kneled downe in that place.
410
Robyn behelde our comly kynge
Wystly in the face,
So dyde Syr Rycharde at the Le,
And kneled downe in that place.
411And so dyde all the wylde outlawes,Whan they se them knele:‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,Now I knowe you well.
411
And so dyde all the wylde outlawes,
Whan they se them knele:
‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,
Now I knowe you well.
412‘Mercy then, Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,‘Vnder your trystyll-tre,Of thy goodnesse and thy grace,For my men and me!’
412
‘Mercy then, Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,
‘Vnder your trystyll-tre,
Of thy goodnesse and thy grace,
For my men and me!’
413‘Yes, for God,’ sayd Robyn,‘And also God me saue,I askë mercy, my lorde the kynge,And for my men I craue.’
413
‘Yes, for God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘And also God me saue,
I askë mercy, my lorde the kynge,
And for my men I craue.’
414‘Yes, for God,’ than sayd our kynge,‘And therto sent I me.With that thou leue the grenë wode,And all thy company;
414
‘Yes, for God,’ than sayd our kynge,
‘And therto sent I me.
With that thou leue the grenë wode,
And all thy company;
415‘And come home, syr, to my courte,And there dwell with me.’‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,‘And ryght so shall it be.
415
‘And come home, syr, to my courte,
And there dwell with me.’
‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘And ryght so shall it be.
416‘I wyll come to your courte,Your seruyse for to se,And brynge with me of my menSeuen score and thre.
416
‘I wyll come to your courte,
Your seruyse for to se,
And brynge with me of my men
Seuen score and thre.
417‘But me lykë well your seruyse,I [wyll] come agayne full soone,And shote at the donnë dere,As I am wonte to done.’
417
‘But me lykë well your seruyse,
I [wyll] come agayne full soone,
And shote at the donnë dere,
As I am wonte to done.’
THE VIII. FYTTE.
THE VIII. FYTTE.
418‘Haste thou ony grenë cloth,’ sayd our kynge,‘That thou wylte sell nowe to me?’‘Ye, for God,’ sayd Robyn,‘Thyrty yerdës and thre.’
418
‘Haste thou ony grenë cloth,’ sayd our kynge,
‘That thou wylte sell nowe to me?’
‘Ye, for God,’ sayd Robyn,
‘Thyrty yerdës and thre.’
419‘Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,‘Now pray I the,Sell me some of that cloth,To me and my meynë.’
419
‘Robyn,’ sayd our kynge,
‘Now pray I the,
Sell me some of that cloth,
To me and my meynë.’
420‘Yes, for God,’ then sayd Robyn,‘Or elles I were a fole;Another day ye wyll me clothe,I trowe, ayenst the Yole.’
420
‘Yes, for God,’ then sayd Robyn,
‘Or elles I were a fole;
Another day ye wyll me clothe,
I trowe, ayenst the Yole.’
421The kynge kest of his colë then,A grene garment he dyde on,And euery knyght also, i-wys,Another had full sone.
421
The kynge kest of his colë then,
A grene garment he dyde on,
And euery knyght also, i-wys,
Another had full sone.
422Whan they were clothed in Lyncolne grene,They keste away theyr graye;‘Now we shall to Notyngham,’All thus our kynge gan say.
422
Whan they were clothed in Lyncolne grene,
They keste away theyr graye;
‘Now we shall to Notyngham,’
All thus our kynge gan say.
423They bente theyr bowes, and forth they went,Shotynge all in-fere,Towarde the towne of Notyngham,Outlawes as they were.
423
They bente theyr bowes, and forth they went,
Shotynge all in-fere,
Towarde the towne of Notyngham,
Outlawes as they were.
424Our kynge and Robyn rode togyder,For soth as I you say,And they shote plucke-buffet,As they went by the way.
424
Our kynge and Robyn rode togyder,
For soth as I you say,
And they shote plucke-buffet,
As they went by the way.
425And many a buffet our kynge wanOf Robyn Hode that day,And nothynge spared good RobynOur kynge in his pay.
425
And many a buffet our kynge wan
Of Robyn Hode that day,
And nothynge spared good Robyn
Our kynge in his pay.
426‘So God me helpë,’ sayd our kynge,‘Thy game is nought to lere;I sholde not get a shote of the,Though I shote all this yere.’
426
‘So God me helpë,’ sayd our kynge,
‘Thy game is nought to lere;
I sholde not get a shote of the,
Though I shote all this yere.’
427All the people of NotynghamThey stode and behelde;They sawe nothynge but mantels of greneThat couered all the felde.
427
All the people of Notyngham
They stode and behelde;
They sawe nothynge but mantels of grene
That couered all the felde.
428Than euery man to other gan say,‘I drede our kynge be slone;Comë Robyn Hode to the towne, i-wysOn lyue he lefte neuer one.’
428
Than euery man to other gan say,
‘I drede our kynge be slone;
Comë Robyn Hode to the towne, i-wys
On lyue he lefte neuer one.’
429Full hast[ë]ly they began to fle,Both yemen and knaues,And olde wyues that myght euyll goo,They hypped on theyr staues.
429
Full hast[ë]ly they began to fle,
Both yemen and knaues,
And olde wyues that myght euyll goo,
They hypped on theyr staues.
430The kynge l[o]ughe full fast,And commaunded theym agayue;When they se our comly kynge,I-wys they were full fayne.
430
The kynge l[o]ughe full fast,
And commaunded theym agayue;
When they se our comly kynge,
I-wys they were full fayne.
431They ete and dranke, and made them glad,And sange with notës hye;Than bespake our comly kyngeTo Syr Rycharde at the Lee.
431
They ete and dranke, and made them glad,
And sange with notës hye;
Than bespake our comly kynge
To Syr Rycharde at the Lee.
432He gaue hym there his londe agayne,A good man he bad hym be;Robyn thanked our comly kynge,And set hym on his kne.
432
He gaue hym there his londe agayne,
A good man he bad hym be;
Robyn thanked our comly kynge,
And set hym on his kne.
433Had Robyn dwelled in the kyngës courteBut twelue monethes and thre,That [he had] spent an hondred pounde,And all his mennes fe.
433
Had Robyn dwelled in the kyngës courte
But twelue monethes and thre,
That [he had] spent an hondred pounde,
And all his mennes fe.
434In euery place where Robyn cameEuer more he layde downe,Both for knyghtës and for squyres,To gete hym grete renowne.
434
In euery place where Robyn came
Euer more he layde downe,
Both for knyghtës and for squyres,
To gete hym grete renowne.
435By than the yere was all agoneHe had no man but twayne,Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,With hym all for to gone.
435
By than the yere was all agone
He had no man but twayne,
Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,
With hym all for to gone.
436Robyn sawe yonge men shoteFull fayre vpon a day;‘Alas!’ than sayd good Robyn,‘My welthe is went away.
436
Robyn sawe yonge men shote
Full fayre vpon a day;
‘Alas!’ than sayd good Robyn,
‘My welthe is went away.
437‘Somtyme I was an archere good,A styffe and eke a stronge;I was compted the best archereThat was in mery Englonde.
437
‘Somtyme I was an archere good,
A styffe and eke a stronge;
I was compted the best archere
That was in mery Englonde.
438‘Alas!’ then sayd good Robyn,‘Alas and well a woo!Yf I dwele lenger with the kynge,Sorowe wyll me sloo.’
438
‘Alas!’ then sayd good Robyn,
‘Alas and well a woo!
Yf I dwele lenger with the kynge,
Sorowe wyll me sloo.’
439Forth than went Robyn HodeTyll he came to our kynge:‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,Graunte me myn askynge.
439
Forth than went Robyn Hode
Tyll he came to our kynge:
‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde,
Graunte me myn askynge.
440‘I made a chapell in Bernysdale,That semely is to se,It is of Mary Magdaleyne,And thereto wolde I be.
440
‘I made a chapell in Bernysdale,
That semely is to se,
It is of Mary Magdaleyne,
And thereto wolde I be.
441‘I myght neuer in this seuen nyghtNo tyme to slepe ne wynke,Nother all these seuen dayesNother ete ne drynke.
441
‘I myght neuer in this seuen nyght
No tyme to slepe ne wynke,
Nother all these seuen dayes
Nother ete ne drynke.
442‘Me longeth sore to Bernysdale,I may not be therfro;Barefote and wolwarde I haue hyghtThyder for to go.’
442
‘Me longeth sore to Bernysdale,
I may not be therfro;
Barefote and wolwarde I haue hyght
Thyder for to go.’
443‘Yf it be so,’ than sayd our kynge,‘It may no better be,Seuen nyght I gyue the leue,No lengre, to dwell fro me.’
443
‘Yf it be so,’ than sayd our kynge,
‘It may no better be,
Seuen nyght I gyue the leue,
No lengre, to dwell fro me.’
444‘Gramercy, lorde,’ then sayd Robyn,And set hym on his kne;He toke his leuë full courteysly,To grenë wode then went he.
444
‘Gramercy, lorde,’ then sayd Robyn,
And set hym on his kne;
He toke his leuë full courteysly,
To grenë wode then went he.
445Whan he came to grenë wode,In a mery mornynge,There he herde the notës smallOf byrdës mery syngynge.
445
Whan he came to grenë wode,
In a mery mornynge,
There he herde the notës small
Of byrdës mery syngynge.
446‘It is ferre gone,’ sayd Robyn,‘That I was last here;Me lyste a lytell for to shoteAt the donnë dere.’
446
‘It is ferre gone,’ sayd Robyn,
‘That I was last here;
Me lyste a lytell for to shote
At the donnë dere.’
447Robyn slewe a full grete harte;His horne than gan he blow,That all the outlawes of that forestThat horne coud they knowe,
447
Robyn slewe a full grete harte;
His horne than gan he blow,
That all the outlawes of that forest
That horne coud they knowe,
448And gadred them togyder,In a lytell throwe.Seuen score of wyght yonge menCame redy on a rowe,
448
And gadred them togyder,
In a lytell throwe.
Seuen score of wyght yonge men
Came redy on a rowe,
449And fayre dyde of theyr hodes,And set them on theyr kne:‘Welcome,’ they sayd, ‘our [derë] mayster,Under this grenë-wode tre.’
449
And fayre dyde of theyr hodes,
And set them on theyr kne:
‘Welcome,’ they sayd, ‘our [derë] mayster,
Under this grenë-wode tre.’
450Robyn dwelled in grenë wodeTwenty yere and two;For all drede of Edwarde our kynge,Agayne wolde he not goo.
450
Robyn dwelled in grenë wode
Twenty yere and two;
For all drede of Edwarde our kynge,
Agayne wolde he not goo.
451Yet he was begyled, i-wys,Through a wycked woman,The pryoresse of Kyrkësly,That nye was of hys kynne:
451
Yet he was begyled, i-wys,
Through a wycked woman,
The pryoresse of Kyrkësly,
That nye was of hys kynne:
452For the loue of a knyght,Syr Roger of Donkesly,That was her ownë speciall;Full euyll motë they the!
452
For the loue of a knyght,
Syr Roger of Donkesly,
That was her ownë speciall;
Full euyll motë they the!
453They toke togyder theyr counsellRobyn Hode for to sle,And how they myght best do that dede,His banis for to be.
453
They toke togyder theyr counsell
Robyn Hode for to sle,
And how they myght best do that dede,
His banis for to be.
454Than bespake good Robyn,In place where as he stode,‘To morow I muste to Kyrke[s]ly,Craftely to be leten blode.’
454
Than bespake good Robyn,
In place where as he stode,
‘To morow I muste to Kyrke[s]ly,
Craftely to be leten blode.’
455Syr Roger of Donkestere,By the pryoresse he lay,And there they betrayed good Robyn Hode,Through theyr falsë playe.
455
Syr Roger of Donkestere,
By the pryoresse he lay,
And there they betrayed good Robyn Hode,
Through theyr falsë playe.
456Cryst haue mercy on his soule,That dyed on the rode!For he was a good outlawe,And dyde pore men moch god.
456
Cryst haue mercy on his soule,
That dyed on the rode!
For he was a good outlawe,
And dyde pore men moch god.