CXLIV

CXLIVLithe and listen, gentlemen,All that now be here,Of Little John, that was the Knight’s man,Good mirth shall ye hear.CXLVIt was upon a merry day,That young men would go shete[796];Little John fet[797]his bow anon,And said he would them meet.CXLVIThree times Little John shot about,And alway cleft the wand,The proud Sherìff of NottinghamBy the marks gan stand.CXLVIIThe Sheriff swore a full great oath,‘By Him that died on a tree,This man is the best archèrThat yet saw I me.CXLVIII‘Say me now, wight[798]young man,What is now thy name?In what country were thou born,And where is thy woning wane[799]?’—CXLIX‘In Holderness I was bore,I-wis[800], all of my dame,Men call me Reynold Greenleaf,When I am at hame.’—CL‘Say me, Reynold Greenleaf,Wilt thou dwell with me?And every year I will thee giveTwenty mark to thy fee.’—CLI‘I have a master,’ said Little John,‘A courteous knight is heMay ye get leave of him,The better may it be.’CLIIThe Sheriff got Little JohnTwelve months of the Knight,Therefore he gave him right anonA good horse and a wight.CLIIINow is Little John the Sheriff’s man,He give us well to speed,But alway thought Little JohnTo quit him well his meed[801].CLIV‘Now so God me help,’ said Little John,‘And by my true lewtè[802],I shall be the worst servant to himThat ever yet had he.’CLVIt befell upon a Wednesday,The Sheriff on hunting was gone,And Little John lay in his bed,And was forgotten at home.CLVITherefore he was fastingTill it was past the noon.‘Good sir steward, I pray thee,Give me to dine,’ said Little John.CLVII‘It is too long for Greenleaf,Fasting so long to be;Therefore I pray thee, steward,My dinner give thou me.’CLVIII‘Shall thou never eat nor drink,’ said the steward,‘Till my lord be come to town.’‘I make mine avow to God,’ said Little John,‘I had liefer to crack thy crown.’CLIXThe butler was full uncourteous,There he stood on floor,He started to the buttery,And shut fast the door.CLXLittle John gave the butler such a rap,His back yede[803]nigh in two:Tho’ he lived an hundred winter,The worse he should go.CLXIHe spurn’d the door with his foot,It went up well and fine,And there he made a large livery[804]Both of ale and wine.CLXII‘Sith[805]ye will not dine,’ said Little John,‘I shall give you to drink,And though ye live an hundred winter,On Little John ye shall think.’CLXIIILittle John ate, and Little John drank,The while that he wolde.The Sheriff had in his kitchen a cook,A stout man and a bold.CLXIV‘I make mine avow to God,’ said the cook,‘Thou art a shrewd hind[806],In an household to dwell,For to ask thus to dine.’CLXVAnd there he lent[807]Little John,Good strokès three.‘I make mine avow,’ said Little John,‘These strokes liketh well me.CLXVI‘Thou art a bold man and an hardy,And so thinketh me;And or I pass from this place,Assay’d better shalt thou be.’CLXVIILittle John drew a good sword,The cook took another in hand;They thought nothing for to flee,But stiffly for to stand.CLXVIIIThere they fought sore together,Two mile way and more,Might neither other harm done,The mountenance[808]of an hour.CLXIX‘I make mine avow to God,’ said Little John,‘And by my true lewtè,Thou art one of the best swordsmenThat ever yet saw I me.CLXX‘Couldest thou shoot as well in a bow,To green-wood thou shouldest with me,And two times in the year thy clothingI-changèd should be;CLXXI‘And every year of Robin HoodTwenty mark to thy fee.’—‘Put up thy sword,’ said the cook,‘And fellows will we be.’CLXXIIThen he fette[809]to Little JohnThe numbles of a doe,Good bread and full good wine,They ate and drank thereto.CLXXIIIAnd when they had drunken well,Their troths together they plight,That they would be with RobinThat ilk same day at night.CLXXIVThey did them to the treasure-house,As fast as they might gone,The locks that were of good steelThey broke them every one;CLXXVThey took away the silver vessel,And all that they might get,Pieces, masars[810], and spoons,Would they none forget;CLXXVIAlso they took the good pence,Three hundred pound and three;And did them straight to Robin Hood,Under the green-wood tree.CLXXVII‘God thee save, my dear master,And Christ thee save and see!’And then said Robin to Little John,‘Welcome might thou be;CLXXVIII‘And also be that fair yeomanThou bringest there with thee.What tidings from NottinghamLittle John, tell thou me?’—CLXXIX‘Well thee greeteth the proud Sheriff,And send thee here by meHis cook and his silver vessel,And three hundred pound and three.’—CLXXX‘I make mine avow to God,’ said Robin,‘And to the Trinity,It was never by his good will,This good is come to me.’CLXXXILittle John him there bethought,On a shrewèd wile,Five mile in the forest he ran,Him happèd at his will.CLXXXIIThen he met the proud Sheriff,Hunting with hound and horn,Little John cou’d[811]his courtesy,And kneelèd him beforn:CLXXXIII‘God thee save, my dear master,And Christ thee save and see!’—‘Reynold Greenleaf,’ said the Sheriff,‘Where hast thou now be?’—CLXXXIV‘I have been in this forest,A fair sight can I see,It was one of the fairest sightsThat ever yet saw I me;CLXXXV‘Yonder I see a right fair hart,His colour is of green,Seven score of deer upon an herdBe with him all bedene[812];CLXXXVI‘His tyndès[813]are so sharp, master,Of sixty and well mo,That I durst not shoot for dreadLest they would me sloo[814].’CLXXXVII‘I make mine avow to God,’ said the Sheriff,‘That sight would I fain see.’‘Busk you thitherward, my dear master,Anon, and wend with me.’CLXXXVIIIThe Sheriff rode, and Little JohnOf foot he was full smart,And when they came afore Robin:‘Lo, here is the master hart!’CLXXXIXStill stood the proud Sheriff,A sorry man was he:‘Woe worth thee, Reynold Greenleaf!Thou hast now betrayèd me.’CXC‘I make mine avow to God,’ said Little John,‘Master, ye be to blame,I was mis-served of my dinner,When I was with you at hame.’CXCISoon he was to supper set,And servèd with silver white;And when the Sheriff saw his vessel,For sorrow he might not eat.CXCII‘Make good cheer,’ said Robin Hood,‘Sheriff, for charity!And for the love of Little John,Thy life is granted to thee.’CXCIIIWhen they had suppèd well,The day was all agone,Robin commanded Little JohnTo draw off his hosen and shoon,CXCIVHis kirtle and his courtepy[815],That was furrèd well fine,And take him a green mantèl,To lap[816]his body therein.CXCVRobin commanded his wight young men,Under the green-wood tree,They shall lie in that same sort;That the Sheriff might them see.CXCVIAll night lay that proud Sheriff,In his breech and in his shirt,No wonder it was in green-wood,Tho’ his sides do smerte[817].CXCVII‘Make glad cheer,’ said Robin Hood,‘Sheriff, for charity!For this is our ordèr, i-wis,Under the green-wood tree.’CXCVIII‘This is harder order,’ said the Sheriff,‘Than any anchor[818]or frere[819];For all the gold in merry EnglandI would not long dwell here.’CXCIX‘All these twelve months,’ said Robin‘Thou shalt dwell with me;I shall thee teach, proud Sheriff,An outlaw for to be.’CC‘Or I here another night lie,’ said the Sheriff,‘Robin, now I pray thee,Smite off my head rather to-morne[820],And I forgive it thee.CCI‘Let me go,’ then said the Sheriff,‘For saint Charity!And I will be thy best friendThat ever yet had thee.’CCII‘Thou shalt swear me an oath,’ said Robin,‘On my bright brand[821],Thou shalt never await[822]me scathe[823],By water nor by land.CCIII‘And if thou find any of my men,By night or by day,Upon thine oath thou shalt swear,To help them that thou may.’CCIVNow has the Sheriff i-sworn his oath,And home he began to gone,He was as full of green-woodAs ever was hip[824]of stone.

Lithe and listen, gentlemen,All that now be here,Of Little John, that was the Knight’s man,Good mirth shall ye hear.

It was upon a merry day,That young men would go shete[796];Little John fet[797]his bow anon,And said he would them meet.

Three times Little John shot about,And alway cleft the wand,The proud Sherìff of NottinghamBy the marks gan stand.

The Sheriff swore a full great oath,‘By Him that died on a tree,This man is the best archèrThat yet saw I me.

‘Say me now, wight[798]young man,What is now thy name?In what country were thou born,And where is thy woning wane[799]?’—

‘In Holderness I was bore,I-wis[800], all of my dame,Men call me Reynold Greenleaf,When I am at hame.’—

‘Say me, Reynold Greenleaf,Wilt thou dwell with me?And every year I will thee giveTwenty mark to thy fee.’—

‘I have a master,’ said Little John,‘A courteous knight is heMay ye get leave of him,The better may it be.’

The Sheriff got Little JohnTwelve months of the Knight,Therefore he gave him right anonA good horse and a wight.

Now is Little John the Sheriff’s man,He give us well to speed,But alway thought Little JohnTo quit him well his meed[801].

‘Now so God me help,’ said Little John,‘And by my true lewtè[802],I shall be the worst servant to himThat ever yet had he.’

It befell upon a Wednesday,The Sheriff on hunting was gone,And Little John lay in his bed,And was forgotten at home.

Therefore he was fastingTill it was past the noon.‘Good sir steward, I pray thee,Give me to dine,’ said Little John.

‘It is too long for Greenleaf,Fasting so long to be;Therefore I pray thee, steward,My dinner give thou me.’

‘Shall thou never eat nor drink,’ said the steward,‘Till my lord be come to town.’‘I make mine avow to God,’ said Little John,‘I had liefer to crack thy crown.’

The butler was full uncourteous,There he stood on floor,He started to the buttery,And shut fast the door.

Little John gave the butler such a rap,His back yede[803]nigh in two:Tho’ he lived an hundred winter,The worse he should go.

He spurn’d the door with his foot,It went up well and fine,And there he made a large livery[804]Both of ale and wine.

‘Sith[805]ye will not dine,’ said Little John,‘I shall give you to drink,And though ye live an hundred winter,On Little John ye shall think.’

Little John ate, and Little John drank,The while that he wolde.The Sheriff had in his kitchen a cook,A stout man and a bold.

‘I make mine avow to God,’ said the cook,‘Thou art a shrewd hind[806],In an household to dwell,For to ask thus to dine.’

And there he lent[807]Little John,Good strokès three.‘I make mine avow,’ said Little John,‘These strokes liketh well me.

‘Thou art a bold man and an hardy,And so thinketh me;And or I pass from this place,Assay’d better shalt thou be.’

Little John drew a good sword,The cook took another in hand;They thought nothing for to flee,But stiffly for to stand.

There they fought sore together,Two mile way and more,Might neither other harm done,The mountenance[808]of an hour.

‘I make mine avow to God,’ said Little John,‘And by my true lewtè,Thou art one of the best swordsmenThat ever yet saw I me.

‘Couldest thou shoot as well in a bow,To green-wood thou shouldest with me,And two times in the year thy clothingI-changèd should be;

‘And every year of Robin HoodTwenty mark to thy fee.’—‘Put up thy sword,’ said the cook,‘And fellows will we be.’

Then he fette[809]to Little JohnThe numbles of a doe,Good bread and full good wine,They ate and drank thereto.

And when they had drunken well,Their troths together they plight,That they would be with RobinThat ilk same day at night.

They did them to the treasure-house,As fast as they might gone,The locks that were of good steelThey broke them every one;

They took away the silver vessel,And all that they might get,Pieces, masars[810], and spoons,Would they none forget;

Also they took the good pence,Three hundred pound and three;And did them straight to Robin Hood,Under the green-wood tree.

‘God thee save, my dear master,And Christ thee save and see!’And then said Robin to Little John,‘Welcome might thou be;

‘And also be that fair yeomanThou bringest there with thee.What tidings from NottinghamLittle John, tell thou me?’—

‘Well thee greeteth the proud Sheriff,And send thee here by meHis cook and his silver vessel,And three hundred pound and three.’—

‘I make mine avow to God,’ said Robin,‘And to the Trinity,It was never by his good will,This good is come to me.’

Little John him there bethought,On a shrewèd wile,Five mile in the forest he ran,Him happèd at his will.

Then he met the proud Sheriff,Hunting with hound and horn,Little John cou’d[811]his courtesy,And kneelèd him beforn:

‘God thee save, my dear master,And Christ thee save and see!’—‘Reynold Greenleaf,’ said the Sheriff,‘Where hast thou now be?’—

‘I have been in this forest,A fair sight can I see,It was one of the fairest sightsThat ever yet saw I me;

‘Yonder I see a right fair hart,His colour is of green,Seven score of deer upon an herdBe with him all bedene[812];

‘His tyndès[813]are so sharp, master,Of sixty and well mo,That I durst not shoot for dreadLest they would me sloo[814].’

‘I make mine avow to God,’ said the Sheriff,‘That sight would I fain see.’‘Busk you thitherward, my dear master,Anon, and wend with me.’

The Sheriff rode, and Little JohnOf foot he was full smart,And when they came afore Robin:‘Lo, here is the master hart!’

Still stood the proud Sheriff,A sorry man was he:‘Woe worth thee, Reynold Greenleaf!Thou hast now betrayèd me.’

‘I make mine avow to God,’ said Little John,‘Master, ye be to blame,I was mis-served of my dinner,When I was with you at hame.’

Soon he was to supper set,And servèd with silver white;And when the Sheriff saw his vessel,For sorrow he might not eat.

‘Make good cheer,’ said Robin Hood,‘Sheriff, for charity!And for the love of Little John,Thy life is granted to thee.’

When they had suppèd well,The day was all agone,Robin commanded Little JohnTo draw off his hosen and shoon,

His kirtle and his courtepy[815],That was furrèd well fine,And take him a green mantèl,To lap[816]his body therein.

Robin commanded his wight young men,Under the green-wood tree,They shall lie in that same sort;That the Sheriff might them see.

All night lay that proud Sheriff,In his breech and in his shirt,No wonder it was in green-wood,Tho’ his sides do smerte[817].

‘Make glad cheer,’ said Robin Hood,‘Sheriff, for charity!For this is our ordèr, i-wis,Under the green-wood tree.’

‘This is harder order,’ said the Sheriff,‘Than any anchor[818]or frere[819];For all the gold in merry EnglandI would not long dwell here.’

‘All these twelve months,’ said Robin‘Thou shalt dwell with me;I shall thee teach, proud Sheriff,An outlaw for to be.’

‘Or I here another night lie,’ said the Sheriff,‘Robin, now I pray thee,Smite off my head rather to-morne[820],And I forgive it thee.

‘Let me go,’ then said the Sheriff,‘For saint Charity!And I will be thy best friendThat ever yet had thee.’

‘Thou shalt swear me an oath,’ said Robin,‘On my bright brand[821],Thou shalt never await[822]me scathe[823],By water nor by land.

‘And if thou find any of my men,By night or by day,Upon thine oath thou shalt swear,To help them that thou may.’

Now has the Sheriff i-sworn his oath,And home he began to gone,He was as full of green-woodAs ever was hip[824]of stone.

How Robin Hood was repaid his Loan

CCVThe Sheriff dwelled in Nottingham,He was fain that he was gone;And Robin and his merry menWent to wood anon.CCVI‘Go we to dinner,’ said Little John:Robin Hood said ‘Nay;For I fear Our Lady be wroth with me,For she sent me not my pay.’CCVII‘Have no doubt, master,’ said Little John;‘Yet is not the sun at rest;For I dare say and safely swear,The Knight is true and trest[825].’CCVIII‘Take thy bow in hande,’ said Robin,‘Let Much wend with thee,And so shall William Scathèlock,And no man abide with me.CCIX‘And walk ye up unto the Sayles,And so to Watling Street,And wait after some uncouth guest,Upchance ye may them meet.CCX‘Whether he be a messenger,Or a man that mirthès can[826],Of my good he shall have some,If he be a poorè man.’CCXIForth then started Little John,Half in tray and teen[827],And girt him with a full good sword,Under a mantle of green.CCXIIThey wenten up unto the Sayles,Those yeomen allè three;They lookèd east, they lookèd west,They mightè no man see.CCXIIIBut as they looked in Barnèsdale,By the highè-way,Then were they ware of a Black Monk[828],Upon a good palfrèy.CCXIVThen bespake him Little John,To Muchè gan he say:‘I dare well lay my life to wed[829],That Monk hath brought our pay.CCXV‘Make glad cheer,’ said Little John,‘And dress your bows of yew,And look your hearts be seker and sad[830],Your strings trusty and true.CCXVI‘The Monk hath two and fifty men,And seven somers[831]strong;There rideth no bishop in this landSo royally along.CCXVII‘Bretheren,’ said Little John,‘Here are no more but three;But[832]we bring them to dinnèr,Our master we dare not see.CCXVIII‘Bend your bows,’ said Little John,‘Make all yon press[833]to stand;The foremost Monk, his life and deathIs closèd in my hand.CCXIX‘Abide, churl Monk!’ said Little John,‘No further that thou wend;If thou dost, by dear-worth God,Thy death is in my hend[834].CCXX‘And evil thrift[835]upon thy head,Right under thy hat’s band!For thou hast made our master wroth,He is so lang fastand.’CCXXI‘Who is your master?’ said the Monk.—Little John said, ‘Robin Hood.’—‘He is a strong thief,’ said the Monk,‘Of him I never heard good.’CCXXII‘Thou lìest,’ then said Little John,‘And that shall ruè thee;He is a yeoman of the forest,To dine he hath bidden thee.’CCXXIIIMuch was ready with a bolt[836],Rathely[837]and anon,He set the Monk to-fore[838]the breastTo the ground that he gan gon[839].CCXXIVOf two and fifty wight yeomenThere abode not one,Save a little page and a groomTo lead the somers on.CCXXVThey brought the Monk to the lodgè door,Whether he were loath or lief[840],For to speak with Robin Hood,Maugre in his teeth[841].CCXXVIRobin did a-down his hood,The Monk when that he see;The Monk was not so courteous,His hood he lettè be.CCXXVII‘He is a churl, by dear-worth God,’Then said Little John.‘Thereof no force[842],’ said Robin Hood,‘For courtesy can be none.’CCXXVIII‘How many men,’ said Robin Hood,‘Haddè this Monk, Johan?’—‘Fifty and two when that we met,But many of them be gane.’CCXXIX‘Let blow a horn,’ said Robin Hood,‘That fellowship may us know.’—Seven score of wight yeomenCame pricking on a row.CCXXXEach of them had a good mantèlOf scarlet and of ray[843];All they came to good Robin,To wit what he would say.CCXXXIThey made the Monk to wash and wipe,And sit at his dinnere,Robin Hood and Little JohnThey served him both in fere.CCXXXII‘Do gladly, Monk,’ said Robin Hood;‘Gramerci, sir,’ said he.‘Where is your Abbey, when you are at home,And who is your avowè[844]?’CCXXXIII‘Saint Mary’s Abbey,’ said the Monk,‘Though I be simple here.’—‘In what office?’ said Robin;‘Sir, the High Cellerèr.’CCXXXIV‘Ye be the more welcome,’ said Robin,‘So ever mote I the[845]:Fill of the best wine,’ said Robin,‘This Monk shall drink to me.CCXXXV‘But I have great marvel,’ said Robin,‘Of all this longè day;I dread Our Lady be wroth with me,She sent me not my pay.’CCXXXVI‘Have no doubt, master,’ said Little John,‘Ye have no need, I say,This Monk hath brought it, I dare well swear,For he is of her Abbèy.’CCXXXVII‘And she was a borrow,’ said Robin,‘Between a Knight and me,Of a little money that I him lent,Under the green-wood tree.CCXXXVIII‘And if thou hast that silver brought,I pray thee let me see;And I shall helpè thee eftsoons[846],If thou have need to me.’CCXXXIXThe Monk swore a full great oath,With a sorry cheer,‘Of the borrowhood[847]thou speak’st to meHeard I never ere.’—CCXL‘I makè mine avow to God,Monk, thou art to blame;For God is held a righteous Man,And so is eke his Dame[848].CCXLI‘Thou toldest with thine ownè tongue,Thou mayst not sayè naye,How thou art her servant,And servest her every day.CCXLII‘And thou art made her messenger,My money for to pay;Therefore I can thee morè thankThou art come at thy day.CCXLIII‘What is in your coffers?’ said Robin,‘Truthè tell thou me.’—‘Sir,’ he saidè, ‘twenty mark[849],All so mote I the.’CCXLIV‘If there be no more,’ said Robin,‘I will not one pennỳ;If thou hast myster[850]of any more,More I shall lend to thee.CCXLV‘And if I find more,’ said Robin,‘I-wis thou shall it forgone;For of thy spending-silver, Monk,Thereof will I right none.CCXLVI‘Go now forth, Little John,The truthè tell thou me;If there be no more but twenty mark,No penny that I see.’CCXLVIILittle John spread his mantle down,As he had done before,And he told out of the Monkès mailEight hundred pound and more.CCXLVIIILittle John let it lie full still,And went to his master in haste;‘Sir,’ he said, ‘the Monk is true enough,Our Lady hath doubled your cast[851]!’—CCXLIX‘I makè mine avow to God,Monk, what told I thee?Our Lady is the truest womanThat ever found I me.CCL‘By dear-worth God,’ said Robin Hood,‘To seek all England thorough,Yet found I never to my payA muchè better borrow.CCLI‘Fill of the best wine,’ said Robin,‘And greet thy Lady hend[852],And if she have need to Robin HoodShe shall him find a friend.CCLII‘And if she need any more silvèr,Come thou again to me,And, by this token she hath me sent,She shall have suchè three.’CCLIIIThe Monk was going to Londonward,There to hold great moot[853],The Knight that rode so high on horse,To bring him under foot.CCLIV‘Whither be ye away?’ said Robin.—‘Sir, to manors in this londe,To reckon with our revès,That have done much wrong.’—CCLV‘Come now forth, Little John,And hearken to my tale,A better yeoman I know none,To seek[854]a Monkès mail[855].’CCLVI‘How much is in yon other forcèr[856]?The soothè must we see:’‘By our Lady,’ then said the Monk,‘That were no courtesy,CCLVII‘A man to biddè to dinnèr,And sith[857]him beat and bind.’—‘It is our old manner,’ said Robin,‘To leave but little behind.’CCLVIIIThe Monk took the horse with spur,No longer would he abide;‘Ask to drink,’ then said Robin,‘Ere that ye further ride.’CCLIX‘Nay, ’fore God,’ then said the Monk,‘Me rueth I came so near;For better cheap[858]I might have dinedIn Blyth or Doncastere.’CCLX‘Greet well your Abbot,’ said Robin,‘And your prior, I you pray,And bid him send me such a MonkTo dinner every day!’CCLXINow lettè we that Monk be still,And speak we of that Knight:Yet he came to hold his day,The while that it was light.CCLXIIHe did him straight to Barnèsdale,Under the green-wood tree,And he found there Robin Hood,And all his merry meinèe.CCLXIIIThe Knight lit down off his good palfrèy,Robin when he gan see;Courteously he did a-down his hood,And set him on his knee.CCLXIV‘God thee savè, Robin Hood,And all this company!’—‘Welcome be thou, gentle Knight,Right welcome unto me.’CCLXVThen bespake him Robin HoodTo that Knight so free:‘What need driveth thee to greenè-wood?I pray, sir Knight, tell me.CCLXVI‘And welcome be thou, gentle Knight,Why hast thou been so long?’—‘For the Abbot and the High JusticeWould have had my land with wrong.’CCLXVII‘Hast thou thy land again?’ said Robin;‘Truthè tell thou me.’—‘Yea, ’fore God,’ said the Knight,‘That thank I God and thee.CCLXVIII‘But take no grief I have been so long;I came by a wrestèling,And there I holp a poor yeoman,With wrong was put behind.’CCLXIX‘Nay, ’fore God,’ said Robin Hood,‘Sir Knight, that thank I thee;What man that helpeth a good yeoman,His friend I willè be.’CCLXX‘Have here four hundred pound,’ said the Knight,‘The which ye lent to me;And here is also twenty markFor your courtesy.’CCLXXI‘Nay, ’fore God,’ said Robin Hood,‘Thou brook[859]it well for aye;For Our Lady, by her Cellarèr,Hath sent to me my pay.CCLXXII‘And if I would it twicè takeA shame it were to me;But truly now, thou gentle Knight,Welcome art thou to me.’CCLXXIIIWhen Robin Hood had told his tale,He laugh’d and made good cheer.‘By my truthè,’ said the Knight,‘Your money is ready here.’CCLXXIV‘Brook it well,’ said Robin Hood,‘Thou gentle Knight so free;And welcome be thou, gentle Knight,Under my trystell-tree!CCLXXV‘But what shall these bows do,’ said Robin,‘And these arrows feather’d free?’—‘With your will,’ then said the Knight,‘A poor present to thee.’—CCLXXVI‘Come now forth, Little John,And go to my treasurỳ,And bring me thence four hundred pound;The Monk overtold[860]it me.CCLXXVII‘Have here four hundred pound,Thou gentle Knight and true,And buy thee horse and harness good,And giltè spurs all new.CCLXXVIII‘And if thou fail any spending,Come to Robin Hood,And by my troth thou shalt none fail,While I have any good.CCLXXIX‘And brook well thy four hundred pound,Which I lent to thee,And make thyself no more so bare,By the counsel of me.’CCLXXXThus then holp him good Robin,The Knight all of his care:God, that sitt’st in heaven high,Grant us well to fare!

The Sheriff dwelled in Nottingham,He was fain that he was gone;And Robin and his merry menWent to wood anon.

‘Go we to dinner,’ said Little John:Robin Hood said ‘Nay;For I fear Our Lady be wroth with me,For she sent me not my pay.’

‘Have no doubt, master,’ said Little John;‘Yet is not the sun at rest;For I dare say and safely swear,The Knight is true and trest[825].’

‘Take thy bow in hande,’ said Robin,‘Let Much wend with thee,And so shall William Scathèlock,And no man abide with me.

‘And walk ye up unto the Sayles,And so to Watling Street,And wait after some uncouth guest,Upchance ye may them meet.

‘Whether he be a messenger,Or a man that mirthès can[826],Of my good he shall have some,If he be a poorè man.’

Forth then started Little John,Half in tray and teen[827],And girt him with a full good sword,Under a mantle of green.

They wenten up unto the Sayles,Those yeomen allè three;They lookèd east, they lookèd west,They mightè no man see.

But as they looked in Barnèsdale,By the highè-way,Then were they ware of a Black Monk[828],Upon a good palfrèy.

Then bespake him Little John,To Muchè gan he say:‘I dare well lay my life to wed[829],That Monk hath brought our pay.

‘Make glad cheer,’ said Little John,‘And dress your bows of yew,And look your hearts be seker and sad[830],Your strings trusty and true.

‘The Monk hath two and fifty men,And seven somers[831]strong;There rideth no bishop in this landSo royally along.

‘Bretheren,’ said Little John,‘Here are no more but three;But[832]we bring them to dinnèr,Our master we dare not see.

‘Bend your bows,’ said Little John,‘Make all yon press[833]to stand;The foremost Monk, his life and deathIs closèd in my hand.

‘Abide, churl Monk!’ said Little John,‘No further that thou wend;If thou dost, by dear-worth God,Thy death is in my hend[834].

‘And evil thrift[835]upon thy head,Right under thy hat’s band!For thou hast made our master wroth,He is so lang fastand.’

‘Who is your master?’ said the Monk.—Little John said, ‘Robin Hood.’—‘He is a strong thief,’ said the Monk,‘Of him I never heard good.’

‘Thou lìest,’ then said Little John,‘And that shall ruè thee;He is a yeoman of the forest,To dine he hath bidden thee.’

Much was ready with a bolt[836],Rathely[837]and anon,He set the Monk to-fore[838]the breastTo the ground that he gan gon[839].

Of two and fifty wight yeomenThere abode not one,Save a little page and a groomTo lead the somers on.

They brought the Monk to the lodgè door,Whether he were loath or lief[840],For to speak with Robin Hood,Maugre in his teeth[841].

Robin did a-down his hood,The Monk when that he see;The Monk was not so courteous,His hood he lettè be.

‘He is a churl, by dear-worth God,’Then said Little John.‘Thereof no force[842],’ said Robin Hood,‘For courtesy can be none.’

‘How many men,’ said Robin Hood,‘Haddè this Monk, Johan?’—‘Fifty and two when that we met,But many of them be gane.’

‘Let blow a horn,’ said Robin Hood,‘That fellowship may us know.’—Seven score of wight yeomenCame pricking on a row.

Each of them had a good mantèlOf scarlet and of ray[843];All they came to good Robin,To wit what he would say.

They made the Monk to wash and wipe,And sit at his dinnere,Robin Hood and Little JohnThey served him both in fere.

‘Do gladly, Monk,’ said Robin Hood;‘Gramerci, sir,’ said he.‘Where is your Abbey, when you are at home,And who is your avowè[844]?’

‘Saint Mary’s Abbey,’ said the Monk,‘Though I be simple here.’—‘In what office?’ said Robin;‘Sir, the High Cellerèr.’

‘Ye be the more welcome,’ said Robin,‘So ever mote I the[845]:Fill of the best wine,’ said Robin,‘This Monk shall drink to me.

‘But I have great marvel,’ said Robin,‘Of all this longè day;I dread Our Lady be wroth with me,She sent me not my pay.’

‘Have no doubt, master,’ said Little John,‘Ye have no need, I say,This Monk hath brought it, I dare well swear,For he is of her Abbèy.’

‘And she was a borrow,’ said Robin,‘Between a Knight and me,Of a little money that I him lent,Under the green-wood tree.

‘And if thou hast that silver brought,I pray thee let me see;And I shall helpè thee eftsoons[846],If thou have need to me.’

The Monk swore a full great oath,With a sorry cheer,‘Of the borrowhood[847]thou speak’st to meHeard I never ere.’—

‘I makè mine avow to God,Monk, thou art to blame;For God is held a righteous Man,And so is eke his Dame[848].

‘Thou toldest with thine ownè tongue,Thou mayst not sayè naye,How thou art her servant,And servest her every day.

‘And thou art made her messenger,My money for to pay;Therefore I can thee morè thankThou art come at thy day.

‘What is in your coffers?’ said Robin,‘Truthè tell thou me.’—‘Sir,’ he saidè, ‘twenty mark[849],All so mote I the.’

‘If there be no more,’ said Robin,‘I will not one pennỳ;If thou hast myster[850]of any more,More I shall lend to thee.

‘And if I find more,’ said Robin,‘I-wis thou shall it forgone;For of thy spending-silver, Monk,Thereof will I right none.

‘Go now forth, Little John,The truthè tell thou me;If there be no more but twenty mark,No penny that I see.’

Little John spread his mantle down,As he had done before,And he told out of the Monkès mailEight hundred pound and more.

Little John let it lie full still,And went to his master in haste;‘Sir,’ he said, ‘the Monk is true enough,Our Lady hath doubled your cast[851]!’—

‘I makè mine avow to God,Monk, what told I thee?Our Lady is the truest womanThat ever found I me.

‘By dear-worth God,’ said Robin Hood,‘To seek all England thorough,Yet found I never to my payA muchè better borrow.

‘Fill of the best wine,’ said Robin,‘And greet thy Lady hend[852],And if she have need to Robin HoodShe shall him find a friend.

‘And if she need any more silvèr,Come thou again to me,And, by this token she hath me sent,She shall have suchè three.’

The Monk was going to Londonward,There to hold great moot[853],The Knight that rode so high on horse,To bring him under foot.

‘Whither be ye away?’ said Robin.—‘Sir, to manors in this londe,To reckon with our revès,That have done much wrong.’—

‘Come now forth, Little John,And hearken to my tale,A better yeoman I know none,To seek[854]a Monkès mail[855].’

‘How much is in yon other forcèr[856]?The soothè must we see:’‘By our Lady,’ then said the Monk,‘That were no courtesy,

‘A man to biddè to dinnèr,And sith[857]him beat and bind.’—‘It is our old manner,’ said Robin,‘To leave but little behind.’

The Monk took the horse with spur,No longer would he abide;‘Ask to drink,’ then said Robin,‘Ere that ye further ride.’

‘Nay, ’fore God,’ then said the Monk,‘Me rueth I came so near;For better cheap[858]I might have dinedIn Blyth or Doncastere.’

‘Greet well your Abbot,’ said Robin,‘And your prior, I you pray,And bid him send me such a MonkTo dinner every day!’

Now lettè we that Monk be still,And speak we of that Knight:Yet he came to hold his day,The while that it was light.

He did him straight to Barnèsdale,Under the green-wood tree,And he found there Robin Hood,And all his merry meinèe.

The Knight lit down off his good palfrèy,Robin when he gan see;Courteously he did a-down his hood,And set him on his knee.

‘God thee savè, Robin Hood,And all this company!’—‘Welcome be thou, gentle Knight,Right welcome unto me.’

Then bespake him Robin HoodTo that Knight so free:‘What need driveth thee to greenè-wood?I pray, sir Knight, tell me.

‘And welcome be thou, gentle Knight,Why hast thou been so long?’—‘For the Abbot and the High JusticeWould have had my land with wrong.’

‘Hast thou thy land again?’ said Robin;‘Truthè tell thou me.’—‘Yea, ’fore God,’ said the Knight,‘That thank I God and thee.

‘But take no grief I have been so long;I came by a wrestèling,And there I holp a poor yeoman,With wrong was put behind.’

‘Nay, ’fore God,’ said Robin Hood,‘Sir Knight, that thank I thee;What man that helpeth a good yeoman,His friend I willè be.’

‘Have here four hundred pound,’ said the Knight,‘The which ye lent to me;And here is also twenty markFor your courtesy.’

‘Nay, ’fore God,’ said Robin Hood,‘Thou brook[859]it well for aye;For Our Lady, by her Cellarèr,Hath sent to me my pay.

‘And if I would it twicè takeA shame it were to me;But truly now, thou gentle Knight,Welcome art thou to me.’

When Robin Hood had told his tale,He laugh’d and made good cheer.‘By my truthè,’ said the Knight,‘Your money is ready here.’

‘Brook it well,’ said Robin Hood,‘Thou gentle Knight so free;And welcome be thou, gentle Knight,Under my trystell-tree!

‘But what shall these bows do,’ said Robin,‘And these arrows feather’d free?’—‘With your will,’ then said the Knight,‘A poor present to thee.’—

‘Come now forth, Little John,And go to my treasurỳ,And bring me thence four hundred pound;The Monk overtold[860]it me.

‘Have here four hundred pound,Thou gentle Knight and true,And buy thee horse and harness good,And giltè spurs all new.

‘And if thou fail any spending,Come to Robin Hood,And by my troth thou shalt none fail,While I have any good.

‘And brook well thy four hundred pound,Which I lent to thee,And make thyself no more so bare,By the counsel of me.’

Thus then holp him good Robin,The Knight all of his care:God, that sitt’st in heaven high,Grant us well to fare!

How at Archery in Nottingham Robin Hood was treacherously attacked, but escaped into Sir Richard’s Castle

Back to Index Next