FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[1013]lin = stop.

[1013]lin = stop.

IThere are twelve months in all the year,As I hear many men say,But the merriest month in all the yearIs the merry month of May.IINow Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,With a link a down and a day,And there he met a silly old woman,Was weeping on the way.III‘What news? what news, thou silly old woman?What news hast them for me?’Said she, ‘There’s three squires in Nottingham townTo-day is condemn’d to die.’IV‘O have they parishes burnt?’ he said,‘Or have they ministers slain?Or have they robb’d any virgin,Or other men’s wives have ta’en?’—V‘They have no parishes burnt, good sir,Nor yet have ministers slain,Nor have they robbed any virgin,Nor other men’s wives have ta’en.’VI‘O what have they done?’ said bold Robin Hood,‘I pray thee tell to me.’—‘It’s for slaying of the King’s fallow deer,Bearing their long bows with thee.’—VII‘Dost thou not mind, old woman,’ he said,‘Since thou made me sup and dine?By the truth of my body,’ quoth bold Robin Hood,‘You could tell it in no better time.’VIIINow Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,With a link a down and a day,And there he met with a silly old palmer,Was walking along the highway.IX‘What news? what news, thou silly old man?What news, I do thee pray?’—Said he, ‘Three squires in Nottingham townAre condemned to die this day.’—X‘Come change thy apparel with me, old man,Come change thy apparel for mine;Here is forty shillings in good silver,Go drink it in beer or wine.’—XI‘O thine apparel is good,’ he said,‘And mine is ragged and torn;Wherever you go, wherever you ride,Laugh ne’er an old man to scorn.’—XII‘Come change thy apparel with me, old churl,Come change thy apparel with mine;Here are twenty pieces of good broad gold,Go feast thy brethren with wine.’XIIIThen he put on the old man’s hat,It stood full high on the crown:‘The first bold bargain that I come at,It shall make thee come down.’XIVThen he put on the old man’s cloak,Was patch’d black, blue, and red;He thought no shame, all the day long,To wear the bags of bread.XVThen he put on the old man’s breeks,Was patch’d from ballup[1014]to side;‘By the truth of my body,’ bold Robin can say,‘This man lov’d little pride!’XVIThen he put on the old man’s hose,Were patch’d from knee to wrist;‘By the truth of my body,’ said bold Robin Hood,‘I’d laugh if I had any list[1015].’XVIIThen he put on the old man’s shoes,Were patch’d both beneath and aboon;Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath,‘It’s good habit that makes a man!’XVIIINow Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,With a link a down and a down,And there he met with the proud Sheríff,Was walking along the town.XIX‘O save, O save, O Sheriff,’ he said,‘O save, and you may see!And what will you give to a silly old manTo-day will your hangman be?’XX‘Some suits, some suits,’ the Sheriff he said,‘Some suits I’ll give to thee;Some suits, some suits, and pence thirteenTo-day’s a hangman’s fee.’XXIThen Robin he turns him round about,And jumps from stock to stone;‘By the truth of my body,’ the Sheriff he said,‘That’s well jumpt, thou nimble old man.’—XXII‘I was ne’er a hangman in all my life,Nor yet intends to trade;But curst be he,’ said bold Robin,‘That first a hangman was made!XXIII‘I’ve a bag for meal, and a bag for malt,And a bag for barley and corn;A bag for bread, and a bag for beef,And a bag for my little small horn.XXIV‘I have a horn in my pockèt,I got it from Robin Hood,And still when I set it to my mouth,For thee it blows little good.’—XXV‘O wind thy horn, thou proud fellòw,Of thee I have no doubt;I wish that thou give such a blastTill both thy eyes fall out.’XXVIThe first loud blast that he did blow,He blew both loud and shrill;A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood’s menCame riding over the hill.XXVIIThe next loud blast that he did give,He blew both loud and amain;And quickly sixty of Robin Hood’s menCame shining over the plain.XXVIII‘O who are yon,’ the Sheriff he said,‘Come tripping over the lee?’‘They’re my attendants,’ brave Robin did say,‘They’ll pay a visit to thee.’XXIXThey took the gallows from the slack[1016],They set it in the glen,They hang’d the proud Sheriff on that,And releas’d their own three men.

There are twelve months in all the year,As I hear many men say,But the merriest month in all the yearIs the merry month of May.

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,With a link a down and a day,And there he met a silly old woman,Was weeping on the way.

‘What news? what news, thou silly old woman?What news hast them for me?’Said she, ‘There’s three squires in Nottingham townTo-day is condemn’d to die.’

‘O have they parishes burnt?’ he said,‘Or have they ministers slain?Or have they robb’d any virgin,Or other men’s wives have ta’en?’—

‘They have no parishes burnt, good sir,Nor yet have ministers slain,Nor have they robbed any virgin,Nor other men’s wives have ta’en.’

‘O what have they done?’ said bold Robin Hood,‘I pray thee tell to me.’—‘It’s for slaying of the King’s fallow deer,Bearing their long bows with thee.’—

‘Dost thou not mind, old woman,’ he said,‘Since thou made me sup and dine?By the truth of my body,’ quoth bold Robin Hood,‘You could tell it in no better time.’

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,With a link a down and a day,And there he met with a silly old palmer,Was walking along the highway.

‘What news? what news, thou silly old man?What news, I do thee pray?’—Said he, ‘Three squires in Nottingham townAre condemned to die this day.’—

‘Come change thy apparel with me, old man,Come change thy apparel for mine;Here is forty shillings in good silver,Go drink it in beer or wine.’—

‘O thine apparel is good,’ he said,‘And mine is ragged and torn;Wherever you go, wherever you ride,Laugh ne’er an old man to scorn.’—

‘Come change thy apparel with me, old churl,Come change thy apparel with mine;Here are twenty pieces of good broad gold,Go feast thy brethren with wine.’

Then he put on the old man’s hat,It stood full high on the crown:‘The first bold bargain that I come at,It shall make thee come down.’

Then he put on the old man’s cloak,Was patch’d black, blue, and red;He thought no shame, all the day long,To wear the bags of bread.

Then he put on the old man’s breeks,Was patch’d from ballup[1014]to side;‘By the truth of my body,’ bold Robin can say,‘This man lov’d little pride!’

Then he put on the old man’s hose,Were patch’d from knee to wrist;‘By the truth of my body,’ said bold Robin Hood,‘I’d laugh if I had any list[1015].’

Then he put on the old man’s shoes,Were patch’d both beneath and aboon;Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath,‘It’s good habit that makes a man!’

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,With a link a down and a down,And there he met with the proud Sheríff,Was walking along the town.

‘O save, O save, O Sheriff,’ he said,‘O save, and you may see!And what will you give to a silly old manTo-day will your hangman be?’

‘Some suits, some suits,’ the Sheriff he said,‘Some suits I’ll give to thee;Some suits, some suits, and pence thirteenTo-day’s a hangman’s fee.’

Then Robin he turns him round about,And jumps from stock to stone;‘By the truth of my body,’ the Sheriff he said,‘That’s well jumpt, thou nimble old man.’—

‘I was ne’er a hangman in all my life,Nor yet intends to trade;But curst be he,’ said bold Robin,‘That first a hangman was made!

‘I’ve a bag for meal, and a bag for malt,And a bag for barley and corn;A bag for bread, and a bag for beef,And a bag for my little small horn.

‘I have a horn in my pockèt,I got it from Robin Hood,And still when I set it to my mouth,For thee it blows little good.’—

‘O wind thy horn, thou proud fellòw,Of thee I have no doubt;I wish that thou give such a blastTill both thy eyes fall out.’

The first loud blast that he did blow,He blew both loud and shrill;A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood’s menCame riding over the hill.

The next loud blast that he did give,He blew both loud and amain;And quickly sixty of Robin Hood’s menCame shining over the plain.

‘O who are yon,’ the Sheriff he said,‘Come tripping over the lee?’‘They’re my attendants,’ brave Robin did say,‘They’ll pay a visit to thee.’

They took the gallows from the slack[1016],They set it in the glen,They hang’d the proud Sheriff on that,And releas’d their own three men.

FOOTNOTES:[1014]ballup = front, or flap.[1015]list = inclination, desire for it.[1016]slack = hollow, dell.

[1014]ballup = front, or flap.

[1015]list = inclination, desire for it.

[1016]slack = hollow, dell.

II have heard talk of bold Robin Hood,And of brave Little John,Of Friar Tuck, and Will Scarlet,Locksley, and Maid Marion.IIBut such a tale as this beforeI think there was never none;For Robin Hood disguised himself,And to the wood is gone.IIILike to a friar bold Robin HoodWas accouter’d in his array;With hood, gown, beads and crucifix,He pass’d upon the way.IVHe had not gone miles two or three,But it was his chance to spyTwo lusty priests, clad all in black,Come riding gallantly.V‘Benedicite,’ then said Robin Hood,‘Some pity on me take;Cross you my hand with a silver groat,For Our dear Ladye’s sake!VI‘For I have been wand’ring all this day,And nothing could I get;Not so much as one poor cup of drink,Nor bit of bread to eat.’VII‘By my holydame,’ the priests repli’d,‘We never a penny have;For we this morning have been robb’d,And could no money save.’VIII‘I am much afraid’ said bold Robin Hood,‘That you both do tell a lye;And now before that you go hence,I am resolv’d to try.’IXWhen as the priests heard him say so,They rode away amain;But Robin betook him to his heels,And soon overtook them again.XThen Robin Hood laid hold of them both,And pull’d them down from their horse:‘O spare, us, friar!’ the priests cry’d out,‘On us have some remorse!’XI‘You said you had no money,’ quoth he;‘Wherefore without delayWe three will fall down on our knees,And for money we will pray.’XIIThe priests they could not him gainsay,But down they kneel’d with speed;‘Send us, O send us,’ then quoth they,‘Some money to serve our need!’XIIIThe priests did pray with mournful chear,Sometimes their hands did wring,Sometimes they wept and cried aloud,Whilst Robin did merrily sing.XIVWhen they had pray’d an hour’s space,The priests did still lament;Then quoth bold Robin, ‘Now let’s seeWhat money heaven hath us sent.XV‘We will be sharers all alikeOf the money that we have;And there is never a one of usThat his fellows shall deceive.’XVIThe priests their hands in their pockets put,But money would find none:‘We’ll search ourselves,’ said Robin Hood,‘Each other, one by one.’XVIIThen Robin took pains to search them both,And he found good store of gold;Five hundred pieces presentlyUpon the grass was told.XVIII‘Here’s a brave show,’ said Robin Hood,‘Such store of gold to see!And you shall each one have a part,’Cause you pray’d so heartily.’XIXHe gave them fifty pound a-piece,And the rest for himself did keep;The priests they durst not speak one word,But they sighèd wondrous deep.XXWith that the priests rose up from their knees,And thought to have parted so;‘Nay, stay,’ said Robin Hood, ‘one thing moreI have to say ere you go.XXI‘You shall be sworn,’ said Robin Hood,‘Upon this holy grass,That you will never tell lies again,Which way soever you pass.XXII‘The second oath that you here must take,All the days of your livesYou never shall tempt maids to sin,Nor covet other men’s wives.XXIII‘The last oath you shall take, it is this,Be charitable to the poor;Say you have met with a holy friar,And I desire no more.’XXIVHe set them upon their horses again,And away then they did ride;And he return’d to the merry green-wood,With great joy, mirth and pride.

I have heard talk of bold Robin Hood,And of brave Little John,Of Friar Tuck, and Will Scarlet,Locksley, and Maid Marion.

But such a tale as this beforeI think there was never none;For Robin Hood disguised himself,And to the wood is gone.

Like to a friar bold Robin HoodWas accouter’d in his array;With hood, gown, beads and crucifix,He pass’d upon the way.

He had not gone miles two or three,But it was his chance to spyTwo lusty priests, clad all in black,Come riding gallantly.

‘Benedicite,’ then said Robin Hood,‘Some pity on me take;Cross you my hand with a silver groat,For Our dear Ladye’s sake!

‘For I have been wand’ring all this day,And nothing could I get;Not so much as one poor cup of drink,Nor bit of bread to eat.’

‘By my holydame,’ the priests repli’d,‘We never a penny have;For we this morning have been robb’d,And could no money save.’

‘I am much afraid’ said bold Robin Hood,‘That you both do tell a lye;And now before that you go hence,I am resolv’d to try.’

When as the priests heard him say so,They rode away amain;But Robin betook him to his heels,And soon overtook them again.

Then Robin Hood laid hold of them both,And pull’d them down from their horse:‘O spare, us, friar!’ the priests cry’d out,‘On us have some remorse!’

‘You said you had no money,’ quoth he;‘Wherefore without delayWe three will fall down on our knees,And for money we will pray.’

The priests they could not him gainsay,But down they kneel’d with speed;‘Send us, O send us,’ then quoth they,‘Some money to serve our need!’

The priests did pray with mournful chear,Sometimes their hands did wring,Sometimes they wept and cried aloud,Whilst Robin did merrily sing.

When they had pray’d an hour’s space,The priests did still lament;Then quoth bold Robin, ‘Now let’s seeWhat money heaven hath us sent.

‘We will be sharers all alikeOf the money that we have;And there is never a one of usThat his fellows shall deceive.’

The priests their hands in their pockets put,But money would find none:‘We’ll search ourselves,’ said Robin Hood,‘Each other, one by one.’

Then Robin took pains to search them both,And he found good store of gold;Five hundred pieces presentlyUpon the grass was told.

‘Here’s a brave show,’ said Robin Hood,‘Such store of gold to see!And you shall each one have a part,’Cause you pray’d so heartily.’

He gave them fifty pound a-piece,And the rest for himself did keep;The priests they durst not speak one word,But they sighèd wondrous deep.

With that the priests rose up from their knees,And thought to have parted so;‘Nay, stay,’ said Robin Hood, ‘one thing moreI have to say ere you go.

‘You shall be sworn,’ said Robin Hood,‘Upon this holy grass,That you will never tell lies again,Which way soever you pass.

‘The second oath that you here must take,All the days of your livesYou never shall tempt maids to sin,Nor covet other men’s wives.

‘The last oath you shall take, it is this,Be charitable to the poor;Say you have met with a holy friar,And I desire no more.’

He set them upon their horses again,And away then they did ride;And he return’d to the merry green-wood,With great joy, mirth and pride.

IIn summer time, when leaves grow green,When they doe grow both green and long,Of a bold outlaw call’d Robin HoodIt is of him I sing this song.IIWhen the lilly leafe and the elephant[1017]Doth bud and spring with a merry good cheere,This outlaw was weary of the wood-side,And chasing of the fallow deere.III‘The fisherman brave more mony haveThen any merchant, two or three;Therefore I will to Scarboro’ goe,That I a fisherman brave may be.’IVThis outlaw call’d his merry men all,As they sate under the green-wood tree:If any of you have gold to spend,I pray you heartily spend it with me.V‘Now,’ quoth Robin, ‘I’le to Scarboro’ goe,It seemes to be a very faire day’—He tooke up his inne at a widdow-woman’s house,Hard by upon the water gray:VIWho asked of him, ‘Where wert thou born?Or tell to me, where dost thou fare?’—‘I am a poore fisherman,’ saith he then,‘This day intrappèd all in care.’VII‘What is thy name, thou fine fellòw?I pray thee heartily tell to me’;‘In mine own country where I was born,Men called me Simon over the Lee.’VIII‘Simon, Simon,’ said the good wife,‘I wish thou maist well brook[1018]thy name’;The outlaw was ware of her courtesie,And rejoyc’d he had got such a dame.IX‘Simon, wilt thou be my man?And good round wages I’le give thee;I have as good a ship of mine owneAs any sayle upon the sea.X‘Anchors and planks thou shalt want none,Masts and ropes that are so long’—‘And if that you thus furnish me,’Said Simon, ‘nothing shall goe wrong.’XIThey pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle,More of a day then two or three;When others cast in their baited hooks,The bare lines into the sea cast he.XII‘It will be long,’ said the master then,‘Ere this great lubber do thrive on the sea;I’le assure you he shall have no part of our fish,For in truth he is of no part worthỳ.’XIII‘O woe is me,’ said Simon then,‘This day that ever I came here!I wish I were in Plomton Parke,In chasing of the fallow deere.XIV‘For every clowne laughs me to scorne,And they by me set nought at all;If I had them in Plomton Park,I would set as little by them all.’XVThey pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle,More of a day then two or three;But Simon spied a ship of warre,That sayld towards them most valourouslie.XVI‘O woe is me,’ said the master then,‘This day that ever I was borne!For all our fish we have got to-dayIs every bit lost and forlorne[1019].XVII‘For your French robbers on the sea,They will not spare of us one man,But carry us to the coast of France,And ligge us in the prison strong.’XVIIIBut Simon said, ‘Doe not feare them,Neither, master, take you no care;Give me my bent bow in my hand,And never a Frenchman will I spare.’—XIX‘Hold thy peace, thou long lubber,For thou art nought but braggs and boast;If I should cast thee over-board,There were nothing but a lubber lost.’XXSimon grew angry at these words,And so angry then was heThat he tooke his bent bow in his hand,And to the ship-hatch goeth he.XXI‘Master, tye me to the mast,’ saith he,‘That at my mark I may stand fair,And give me my bended bow in my hand,And never a Frenchman will I spare.’XXIIHe drew his arrow to the very head,And drew it with all might and maine,And straightway, in the twinkling of an eye,To the Frenchman’s heart the arrow did gain.XXIIIThe Frenchman fell downe on the ship-hatch,And under the hatches down below;Another Frenchman that him espy’dThe dead corps into the sea doth throw.XXIV‘O master, loose me from the mast,And for them all take you no care;And give me my bent bow in my hand,And never a Frenchman will I spare!’XXVThen straight they did board the Frenchman’s ship,They lying all dead in their sight;They found within the ship of warreTwelve thousand pound of money bright.XXVI‘One halfe of the ship,’ said Simon then,‘I’le give to my dame and children small;The other halfe of the ship I’le bestowOn you that are my fellowes all.’XXVIIBut now bespake the master then,‘For so, Simon, it shall not be;For you have won her with your own hand,And the owner of it you shall bee.’—XXVIII‘It shall be so, as you have said;And, with this gold, for the opprestAn habitation I will build,Where they shall live in peace and rest.’

In summer time, when leaves grow green,When they doe grow both green and long,Of a bold outlaw call’d Robin HoodIt is of him I sing this song.

When the lilly leafe and the elephant[1017]Doth bud and spring with a merry good cheere,This outlaw was weary of the wood-side,And chasing of the fallow deere.

‘The fisherman brave more mony haveThen any merchant, two or three;Therefore I will to Scarboro’ goe,That I a fisherman brave may be.’

This outlaw call’d his merry men all,As they sate under the green-wood tree:If any of you have gold to spend,I pray you heartily spend it with me.

‘Now,’ quoth Robin, ‘I’le to Scarboro’ goe,It seemes to be a very faire day’—He tooke up his inne at a widdow-woman’s house,Hard by upon the water gray:

Who asked of him, ‘Where wert thou born?Or tell to me, where dost thou fare?’—‘I am a poore fisherman,’ saith he then,‘This day intrappèd all in care.’

‘What is thy name, thou fine fellòw?I pray thee heartily tell to me’;‘In mine own country where I was born,Men called me Simon over the Lee.’

‘Simon, Simon,’ said the good wife,‘I wish thou maist well brook[1018]thy name’;The outlaw was ware of her courtesie,And rejoyc’d he had got such a dame.

‘Simon, wilt thou be my man?And good round wages I’le give thee;I have as good a ship of mine owneAs any sayle upon the sea.

‘Anchors and planks thou shalt want none,Masts and ropes that are so long’—‘And if that you thus furnish me,’Said Simon, ‘nothing shall goe wrong.’

They pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle,More of a day then two or three;When others cast in their baited hooks,The bare lines into the sea cast he.

‘It will be long,’ said the master then,‘Ere this great lubber do thrive on the sea;I’le assure you he shall have no part of our fish,For in truth he is of no part worthỳ.’

‘O woe is me,’ said Simon then,‘This day that ever I came here!I wish I were in Plomton Parke,In chasing of the fallow deere.

‘For every clowne laughs me to scorne,And they by me set nought at all;If I had them in Plomton Park,I would set as little by them all.’

They pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle,More of a day then two or three;But Simon spied a ship of warre,That sayld towards them most valourouslie.

‘O woe is me,’ said the master then,‘This day that ever I was borne!For all our fish we have got to-dayIs every bit lost and forlorne[1019].

‘For your French robbers on the sea,They will not spare of us one man,But carry us to the coast of France,And ligge us in the prison strong.’

But Simon said, ‘Doe not feare them,Neither, master, take you no care;Give me my bent bow in my hand,And never a Frenchman will I spare.’—

‘Hold thy peace, thou long lubber,For thou art nought but braggs and boast;If I should cast thee over-board,There were nothing but a lubber lost.’

Simon grew angry at these words,And so angry then was heThat he tooke his bent bow in his hand,And to the ship-hatch goeth he.

‘Master, tye me to the mast,’ saith he,‘That at my mark I may stand fair,And give me my bended bow in my hand,And never a Frenchman will I spare.’

He drew his arrow to the very head,And drew it with all might and maine,And straightway, in the twinkling of an eye,To the Frenchman’s heart the arrow did gain.

The Frenchman fell downe on the ship-hatch,And under the hatches down below;Another Frenchman that him espy’dThe dead corps into the sea doth throw.

‘O master, loose me from the mast,And for them all take you no care;And give me my bent bow in my hand,And never a Frenchman will I spare!’

Then straight they did board the Frenchman’s ship,They lying all dead in their sight;They found within the ship of warreTwelve thousand pound of money bright.

‘One halfe of the ship,’ said Simon then,‘I’le give to my dame and children small;The other halfe of the ship I’le bestowOn you that are my fellowes all.’

But now bespake the master then,‘For so, Simon, it shall not be;For you have won her with your own hand,And the owner of it you shall bee.’—

‘It shall be so, as you have said;And, with this gold, for the opprestAn habitation I will build,Where they shall live in peace and rest.’

FOOTNOTES:[1017]elephant = a weed of the scabious order.[1018]brook = enjoy, or earn the name of Simon, as a fisherman.[1019]forlorne = lost.

[1017]elephant = a weed of the scabious order.

[1018]brook = enjoy, or earn the name of Simon, as a fisherman.

[1019]forlorne = lost.

IWhen Robin Hood and Little JohnDown a-down, a-down, a-downWent o’er yon bank of broom,Said Robin Hood bold to Little John,‘We have shot for many a poundHey, down a-down, a-down!II‘But I am not able to shoot one shot more,My broad arrows will not flee;But I have a cousin lives down below,Please God, she will bleed me.III‘I will never eat nor drink,’ he said,‘Nor meat will do me good,Till I have been to merry KirkleysMy veins for to let blood.IV‘The dame prior is my aunt’s daughter,And nigh unto my kin;I know she wo’ld me no harm this day,For all the world to win.’V‘That I rede[1020]not,’ said Little John,‘Master, by th’assent of me,Without half a hundred of your best bowmenYou take to go with yee.’—VI‘An thou be afear’d, thou Little John,At home I rede thee be.’—‘An you be wroth, my deare mastèrYou shall never hear more of me.’VIINow Robin is gone to merry KirkleysAnd knockèd upon the pin:Up then rose Dame PriorèssAnd let good Robin in.VIIIThen Robin gave to Dame PriorèssTwenty pound in gold,And bade her spend while that did last,She sho’ld have more when she wo’ld.IX‘Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin,And drink some beer with me?’—‘No, I will neither eat nor drinkTill I am blooded by thee.’XDown then came Dame PriorèssDown she came in that ilk[1021],With a pair of blood-irons in her hands,Were wrappèd all in silk.XI‘Set a chafing-dish to the fire,’ she said,‘And strip thou up thy sleeve.’—I hold him but an unwise manThat will no warning ’leeve[1022]!XIIShe laid the blood-irons to Robin’s vein,Alack, the more pitye!And pierc’d the vein, and let out the bloodThat full red was to see.XIIIAnd first it bled the thick, thick blood,And afterwards the thin,And well then wist good Robin HoodTreason there was within.XIVAnd there she blooded bold Robin HoodWhile one drop of blood wou’d run;There did he bleed the live-long day,Until the next at noon.XVHe bethought him then of a casement there,Being lockèd up in the room,But was so weak he could not leap,He could not get him down.XVIHe bethought him then of his bugle-horn,That hung low down to his knee;He set his horn unto his mouth,And blew out weak blasts three.XVIIThen Little John he heard the hornWhere he sat under a tree:‘I fear my master is now near dead,He blows so wearilye.’XVIIILittle John is gone to merry Kirkleys,As fast as he can dree;And when he came to merry Kirkleys,He broke locks two or three:XIXUntil he came bold Robin to see,Then he fell on his knee;‘A boon, a boon!’ cries Little John,‘Master, I beg of thee!’XX‘What is that boon,’ said Robin Hood,‘Little John, thou begs of me?’—‘It is to burn fair Kirkleys-hall,And all their nunnerye.’XXI‘Now nay, now nay,’ quoth Robin Hood,‘That boon I’ll not grant thee;I never hurt woman in all my life,Nor men in their company.XXII‘I never hurt maid in all my time,Nor at mine end shall it be;But give me my bent bow in my hand,And a broad arrow I’ll let flee;And where this arrow is taken upThere shall my grave digg’d be.XXIII‘But lay me a green sod under my head,And another at my feet;And lay my bent bow at my side,Which was my music sweet;And make my grave of gravel and green,Which is most right and meet.XXIV‘Let me have length and breadth enough,And under my head a sod;That they may say when I am dead,—Here lies bold Robin Hood!’

When Robin Hood and Little JohnDown a-down, a-down, a-downWent o’er yon bank of broom,Said Robin Hood bold to Little John,‘We have shot for many a poundHey, down a-down, a-down!

‘But I am not able to shoot one shot more,My broad arrows will not flee;But I have a cousin lives down below,Please God, she will bleed me.

‘I will never eat nor drink,’ he said,‘Nor meat will do me good,Till I have been to merry KirkleysMy veins for to let blood.

‘The dame prior is my aunt’s daughter,And nigh unto my kin;I know she wo’ld me no harm this day,For all the world to win.’

‘That I rede[1020]not,’ said Little John,‘Master, by th’assent of me,Without half a hundred of your best bowmenYou take to go with yee.’—

‘An thou be afear’d, thou Little John,At home I rede thee be.’—‘An you be wroth, my deare mastèrYou shall never hear more of me.’

Now Robin is gone to merry KirkleysAnd knockèd upon the pin:Up then rose Dame PriorèssAnd let good Robin in.

Then Robin gave to Dame PriorèssTwenty pound in gold,And bade her spend while that did last,She sho’ld have more when she wo’ld.

‘Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin,And drink some beer with me?’—‘No, I will neither eat nor drinkTill I am blooded by thee.’

Down then came Dame PriorèssDown she came in that ilk[1021],With a pair of blood-irons in her hands,Were wrappèd all in silk.

‘Set a chafing-dish to the fire,’ she said,‘And strip thou up thy sleeve.’—I hold him but an unwise manThat will no warning ’leeve[1022]!

She laid the blood-irons to Robin’s vein,Alack, the more pitye!And pierc’d the vein, and let out the bloodThat full red was to see.

And first it bled the thick, thick blood,And afterwards the thin,And well then wist good Robin HoodTreason there was within.

And there she blooded bold Robin HoodWhile one drop of blood wou’d run;There did he bleed the live-long day,Until the next at noon.

He bethought him then of a casement there,Being lockèd up in the room,But was so weak he could not leap,He could not get him down.

He bethought him then of his bugle-horn,That hung low down to his knee;He set his horn unto his mouth,And blew out weak blasts three.

Then Little John he heard the hornWhere he sat under a tree:‘I fear my master is now near dead,He blows so wearilye.’

Little John is gone to merry Kirkleys,As fast as he can dree;And when he came to merry Kirkleys,He broke locks two or three:

Until he came bold Robin to see,Then he fell on his knee;‘A boon, a boon!’ cries Little John,‘Master, I beg of thee!’

‘What is that boon,’ said Robin Hood,‘Little John, thou begs of me?’—‘It is to burn fair Kirkleys-hall,And all their nunnerye.’

‘Now nay, now nay,’ quoth Robin Hood,‘That boon I’ll not grant thee;I never hurt woman in all my life,Nor men in their company.

‘I never hurt maid in all my time,Nor at mine end shall it be;But give me my bent bow in my hand,And a broad arrow I’ll let flee;And where this arrow is taken upThere shall my grave digg’d be.

‘But lay me a green sod under my head,And another at my feet;And lay my bent bow at my side,Which was my music sweet;And make my grave of gravel and green,Which is most right and meet.

‘Let me have length and breadth enough,And under my head a sod;That they may say when I am dead,—Here lies bold Robin Hood!’

FOOTNOTES:[1020]rede = advise.[1021]in that ilk = in that same (moment), then and there.[1022]’leeve = believe.

[1020]rede = advise.

[1021]in that ilk = in that same (moment), then and there.

[1022]’leeve = believe.

ILordings, listen, and hold you still;Hearken to me a spell;I shall you tell of the fairest battellThat ever in England befell.IIIt befell in Edward the Third’s dayes,When in England he ware the crowne,That all the chief chivalry of EnglandThey buskèd[1023]and made them bowne[1024].IIIThey have chosen all the best archersThat in England might be found,And all was to fight with the King of France,Within a litle stounde[1025].IVAnd when our King was over the water,And on the salt sea gone,Then tydings into Scotland cameThat all England was gone.VBowes and arrowes they all were forth;At home was not left a manBut shepards and millers both,And preists with shaven crownes.VIThen the King of Scotts in a study stood,As he was a man of great might;He sware he would hold his parlament in leeve[1026]London,If he cold ryde there right.VIIThen bespake a Squire, of Scottland borne,And sayd, ‘My leege, ha’ peace,Before you come to leeve London,Full sore you’le rue that race.VIII‘Ther beene bold yeomen in merry England,Husbandmen stiffe and strong;Sharpè swords they done weare,Bearen bowes and arrowes longe.’IXThe King was angrye at that word;A long sword out he drew,And there before his royall companyeHis ownè Squire hee slew.XHard hansell[1027]had the Scottes that day,That wrought them woe enoughe,For a Scott then durst not speake a wordFfor hanging att a boughe.XI‘The Earle of Anguish[1028], where art thou?In my coate-armour thou shalt bee,And thou shalt lead the forwardThorow the English countrye.XII‘Take thee Yorke,’ then sayd the King,‘In stead wheras it doth stand;I’le make thy eldest sonne after theeHeyre of all Northumberland.XIII‘The Earle of Buchan, where be yee?In my coate-armour thou shalt bee;The high Peak and all DarbyshireI give it thee to thy fee.’XIVThe famous Douglas then came in,Saies, ‘What shall my meede bee?And I will lead the vanward, lord,Thorow the English countrye.’XV‘Take thee Worster,’ sayd the King,‘Tuxburye, Killingworth, Burton on Trent;Doe thou not say another dayBut I gave thee lands and rent.XVI‘Sir Richard of Edenborrow, where are yee?A wise man in this warr!I’le give thee Bristow and the shireThe time that wee come there.XVII‘Thou, my lord Nevill, where art thou?Thou must in this warres bee;I’le give thee Shrewsburye,’ saies the King,‘And Coventrye faire and free.XVIII‘My lord of Hambleton[1029], where art thou?Thou art of my kin full nye;I’le give thee Lincolne and Lincolneshire,And that’s enoughe for thee.’XIXBy then came in William Douglas,As breeme[1030]as any bore;He kneelèd him downe upon his knees,In his heart he sighèd sore.XX‘I have servèd you, my lovelye liege,This thirty winters and four,And in the Scottish MarchesHave beene wounded and beaten sore.XXI‘For all the good service that I have done,What now shall my meed bee?And I will lead the vanwardThorow the English countrye.’XXII‘Now aske on, Douglas,’ said the King,‘And granted it shall bee.’—‘Why then, I aske litle London,’ saies Douglas,‘Gotten gif that it bee.’XXIIIThe King was wroth, and rose away,Saies, ‘Nay, that cannot bee!For that I will keepe for my cheefe chamber,Gotten gif that it bee.XXIV‘But take thee North Wales and Weschester,The countrye all round about,And rewarded thou shalt bee,Of that take thou noe doubt.’XXVFive score knights he made on a day,And dubb’d them with his hands;Rewarded them right worthilyeWith the townes in merry England.XXVIAnd when the fresh knights they were made,To battell they buske[1031]them bowne[1032];Jamès Douglas he went before,And he thought to have wonnen him shoone.XXVIIBut they were mett in a morning of MayWith the comminaltye of litle England;But there scapèd never a man away,Through the might of Christès hand.XXVIIIBut all onely Jamès Douglas;In Durham in the ffeildAn arrow stroke him in the thye;Fast flinges he towards the King.XXIXThe King looked toward litle Durham,Saies, ‘All things is not weel!For James Douglas beares an arrow in his thye,The head of it is of steele.XXX‘How now, James?’ then said the King,‘How now, how may this bee?And where beene all thy merrymenThat thou tooke hence with thee?’XXXI‘But cease, my King,’ saies James Douglas,‘Alive is not left a man!’‘Now by my faith,’ saies the King of Scotts,‘That gate was evil gone.XXXII‘But I’le revenge thy quarrell well,And of that thou may be fain;For one Scott will beate five Englishmen,If they meeten them on the plaine.’XXXIII‘Now hold your tongue,’ saies James Douglas,‘For in faith that is not soe;For one English man is worth five Scotts,When they meeten together thoe[1033].XXXIV‘For they are as eager men to fightAs a faulcon upon a prey;Alas! if ever they winne the vanward,There scapes noe man away.’XXXV‘O peace thy talking,’ said the King,‘They bee but English knaves,But shepards and millers both,And priestès with their staves.’XXXVIThe King sent forth one of his heralds of armesTo vew the Englishmen:‘Be of good cheere,’ the herald said,‘For against one we be ten.’XXXVII‘Who leads those lads?’ said the King of Scotts,‘Thou herald, tell thou mee’:The herald said, ‘The Bishop of DurhamIs captaine of that companye.XXXVIII‘For the Bishop hath spred the King’s banner,And to battell he buskes him bowne’;‘I sweare by St Andrewes bones,’ saies the King,‘I’le rapp that priest on the crowne!’XXXIXThe King look’d towards litle Durham,And that hee well beheld,That the Earle Percy was well arm’d,With his battell-axe entred the feild.XLThe King look’d again towards litle Durham,Four ancyents[1034]there saw he;There were two standards, six in a valley,He cold not see them with his eye.XLIMy Lord of Yorke was one of them,My Lord of Carlile was the other,And my Lord Fitzwilliams,The Bishop came with the other.XLIIThe Bishop of Durham commanded his men,And shortlye he them bade,That never a man shold goe to fightTill he had served his God.XLIIIFive hundred priests said mass that dayIn Durham in the field,And afterwards, as I hard say,They bare both spear and shield.XLIVThe Bishop orders himselfe to fight,With his battell-axe in his hand;He said, ‘This day now I will fightAs long as I can stand!’XLV‘And soe will I,’ sayd my Lord of Carlile,‘In this faire morning gay’;‘And soe will I,’ said my Lord Fitzwilliams,‘For Mary, that mild may[1035].’XLVIOur English archers bent their bowesShortly and anon;They shot over the Scottish oastAnd scantly toucht a man.XLVII‘Hold downe your hands,’ sayd the Bishop of Durham,‘My archers good and true’!The second shootè that they shott,Full sore the Scots it rue.XLVIIIThe Bishop of Durham spoke on hie,That both partyes might heare:‘Be of good cheere, my merrymen all,They flyen and changen their cheere!’XLIXBut as they saidden, see they didden,They fell on heapès hie;Our Englishmen laid on with their bowes,As fast as they might drie.LThe King of Scotts in a study stoodAmongst his companye;An arrow stoke him thoro’ the nose,And thoro’ his armorye.LIThe King went to a marsh-sideAnd light beside his steede;He leanèd him downe on his swordhilts,To let his nosè bleede.LIIThere follow’d him a yeaman of merry England,His name was John of Coplande:‘Yeeld thee, traytor!’ saies Coplande then,‘Thy life lies in my hand.’LIII‘How shold I yeeld me,’ sayes the King,‘And thou art noe gentleman?’—‘Noe, by my troth,’ sayes Copland there,‘I am but a poore yeaman.LIV‘What art thou better then I, Sir King?Tell me if that thou can!What art thou better then I, Sir King,Now we be but man to man?’LVThe King smote angerly at Copland,Angerly in that stonde;Then Copland was a bold yeaman,And bore the King to the ground.LVIHe sett the King on a palfrey,Himselfe upon a steede;He tooke him by the bridle-rayne,Towards London he can him lead.LVIIAnd when to London that he came,The King from Ffrance was come home,And there unto the King of ScottsHe sayd these words anon.—LVIII‘How like you my shepards and my millers?My priests with shaven crownes?’—‘By my fayth, they are the sorest fightersThat ever I mett on the ground.LIX‘There was never a yeaman in merry EnglandBut was worth a Scottish knight.’—‘Ay, by my troth,’ said King Edward, and laughe,‘For you fought all against the right.’LXBut now the prince of merry England,Worthilye under his sheelde,Hath taken captive the King of France,At Poytiers in the field.LXIThe prince did present his fatherWith the lovely King of France,And forward of his journey he is gone:God send us all good chance!LXIISayd the King of Scots to the King of France,‘Well met, brother, too soone!Christ leeve that I had taken my wayUnto the court of Roome!’LXIII‘And soe wold I,’ said the King of France,‘When I came over the streame,That I had taken my journeyUnto Jerusalem!’LXIVThus ends the battell of fair Durham,In one morning of May;The battells of Cressey and of Poytiers,All within one monthes day.LXVThen was wealthe and welfare in merry England,Solaces, game, and glee,And every man loved other well,And the King loved good yeomanrye.LXVIBut God that made the grasse to growe,And leaves on greenwoode tree,Now save and keepe our noble King,And maintaine good yeomanrye!

Lordings, listen, and hold you still;Hearken to me a spell;I shall you tell of the fairest battellThat ever in England befell.

It befell in Edward the Third’s dayes,When in England he ware the crowne,That all the chief chivalry of EnglandThey buskèd[1023]and made them bowne[1024].

They have chosen all the best archersThat in England might be found,And all was to fight with the King of France,Within a litle stounde[1025].

And when our King was over the water,And on the salt sea gone,Then tydings into Scotland cameThat all England was gone.

Bowes and arrowes they all were forth;At home was not left a manBut shepards and millers both,And preists with shaven crownes.

Then the King of Scotts in a study stood,As he was a man of great might;He sware he would hold his parlament in leeve[1026]London,If he cold ryde there right.

Then bespake a Squire, of Scottland borne,And sayd, ‘My leege, ha’ peace,Before you come to leeve London,Full sore you’le rue that race.

‘Ther beene bold yeomen in merry England,Husbandmen stiffe and strong;Sharpè swords they done weare,Bearen bowes and arrowes longe.’

The King was angrye at that word;A long sword out he drew,And there before his royall companyeHis ownè Squire hee slew.

Hard hansell[1027]had the Scottes that day,That wrought them woe enoughe,For a Scott then durst not speake a wordFfor hanging att a boughe.

‘The Earle of Anguish[1028], where art thou?In my coate-armour thou shalt bee,And thou shalt lead the forwardThorow the English countrye.

‘Take thee Yorke,’ then sayd the King,‘In stead wheras it doth stand;I’le make thy eldest sonne after theeHeyre of all Northumberland.

‘The Earle of Buchan, where be yee?In my coate-armour thou shalt bee;The high Peak and all DarbyshireI give it thee to thy fee.’

The famous Douglas then came in,Saies, ‘What shall my meede bee?And I will lead the vanward, lord,Thorow the English countrye.’

‘Take thee Worster,’ sayd the King,‘Tuxburye, Killingworth, Burton on Trent;Doe thou not say another dayBut I gave thee lands and rent.

‘Sir Richard of Edenborrow, where are yee?A wise man in this warr!I’le give thee Bristow and the shireThe time that wee come there.

‘Thou, my lord Nevill, where art thou?Thou must in this warres bee;I’le give thee Shrewsburye,’ saies the King,‘And Coventrye faire and free.

‘My lord of Hambleton[1029], where art thou?Thou art of my kin full nye;I’le give thee Lincolne and Lincolneshire,And that’s enoughe for thee.’

By then came in William Douglas,As breeme[1030]as any bore;He kneelèd him downe upon his knees,In his heart he sighèd sore.

‘I have servèd you, my lovelye liege,This thirty winters and four,And in the Scottish MarchesHave beene wounded and beaten sore.

‘For all the good service that I have done,What now shall my meed bee?And I will lead the vanwardThorow the English countrye.’

‘Now aske on, Douglas,’ said the King,‘And granted it shall bee.’—‘Why then, I aske litle London,’ saies Douglas,‘Gotten gif that it bee.’

The King was wroth, and rose away,Saies, ‘Nay, that cannot bee!For that I will keepe for my cheefe chamber,Gotten gif that it bee.

‘But take thee North Wales and Weschester,The countrye all round about,And rewarded thou shalt bee,Of that take thou noe doubt.’

Five score knights he made on a day,And dubb’d them with his hands;Rewarded them right worthilyeWith the townes in merry England.

And when the fresh knights they were made,To battell they buske[1031]them bowne[1032];Jamès Douglas he went before,And he thought to have wonnen him shoone.

But they were mett in a morning of MayWith the comminaltye of litle England;But there scapèd never a man away,Through the might of Christès hand.

But all onely Jamès Douglas;In Durham in the ffeildAn arrow stroke him in the thye;Fast flinges he towards the King.

The King looked toward litle Durham,Saies, ‘All things is not weel!For James Douglas beares an arrow in his thye,The head of it is of steele.

‘How now, James?’ then said the King,‘How now, how may this bee?And where beene all thy merrymenThat thou tooke hence with thee?’

‘But cease, my King,’ saies James Douglas,‘Alive is not left a man!’‘Now by my faith,’ saies the King of Scotts,‘That gate was evil gone.

‘But I’le revenge thy quarrell well,And of that thou may be fain;For one Scott will beate five Englishmen,If they meeten them on the plaine.’

‘Now hold your tongue,’ saies James Douglas,‘For in faith that is not soe;For one English man is worth five Scotts,When they meeten together thoe[1033].

‘For they are as eager men to fightAs a faulcon upon a prey;Alas! if ever they winne the vanward,There scapes noe man away.’

‘O peace thy talking,’ said the King,‘They bee but English knaves,But shepards and millers both,And priestès with their staves.’

The King sent forth one of his heralds of armesTo vew the Englishmen:‘Be of good cheere,’ the herald said,‘For against one we be ten.’

‘Who leads those lads?’ said the King of Scotts,‘Thou herald, tell thou mee’:The herald said, ‘The Bishop of DurhamIs captaine of that companye.

‘For the Bishop hath spred the King’s banner,And to battell he buskes him bowne’;‘I sweare by St Andrewes bones,’ saies the King,‘I’le rapp that priest on the crowne!’

The King look’d towards litle Durham,And that hee well beheld,That the Earle Percy was well arm’d,With his battell-axe entred the feild.

The King look’d again towards litle Durham,Four ancyents[1034]there saw he;There were two standards, six in a valley,He cold not see them with his eye.

My Lord of Yorke was one of them,My Lord of Carlile was the other,And my Lord Fitzwilliams,The Bishop came with the other.

The Bishop of Durham commanded his men,And shortlye he them bade,That never a man shold goe to fightTill he had served his God.

Five hundred priests said mass that dayIn Durham in the field,And afterwards, as I hard say,They bare both spear and shield.

The Bishop orders himselfe to fight,With his battell-axe in his hand;He said, ‘This day now I will fightAs long as I can stand!’

‘And soe will I,’ sayd my Lord of Carlile,‘In this faire morning gay’;‘And soe will I,’ said my Lord Fitzwilliams,‘For Mary, that mild may[1035].’

Our English archers bent their bowesShortly and anon;They shot over the Scottish oastAnd scantly toucht a man.

‘Hold downe your hands,’ sayd the Bishop of Durham,‘My archers good and true’!The second shootè that they shott,Full sore the Scots it rue.

The Bishop of Durham spoke on hie,That both partyes might heare:‘Be of good cheere, my merrymen all,They flyen and changen their cheere!’

But as they saidden, see they didden,They fell on heapès hie;Our Englishmen laid on with their bowes,As fast as they might drie.

The King of Scotts in a study stoodAmongst his companye;An arrow stoke him thoro’ the nose,And thoro’ his armorye.

The King went to a marsh-sideAnd light beside his steede;He leanèd him downe on his swordhilts,To let his nosè bleede.

There follow’d him a yeaman of merry England,His name was John of Coplande:‘Yeeld thee, traytor!’ saies Coplande then,‘Thy life lies in my hand.’

‘How shold I yeeld me,’ sayes the King,‘And thou art noe gentleman?’—‘Noe, by my troth,’ sayes Copland there,‘I am but a poore yeaman.

‘What art thou better then I, Sir King?Tell me if that thou can!What art thou better then I, Sir King,Now we be but man to man?’

The King smote angerly at Copland,Angerly in that stonde;Then Copland was a bold yeaman,And bore the King to the ground.

He sett the King on a palfrey,Himselfe upon a steede;He tooke him by the bridle-rayne,Towards London he can him lead.

And when to London that he came,The King from Ffrance was come home,And there unto the King of ScottsHe sayd these words anon.—

‘How like you my shepards and my millers?My priests with shaven crownes?’—‘By my fayth, they are the sorest fightersThat ever I mett on the ground.

‘There was never a yeaman in merry EnglandBut was worth a Scottish knight.’—‘Ay, by my troth,’ said King Edward, and laughe,‘For you fought all against the right.’

But now the prince of merry England,Worthilye under his sheelde,Hath taken captive the King of France,At Poytiers in the field.

The prince did present his fatherWith the lovely King of France,And forward of his journey he is gone:God send us all good chance!

Sayd the King of Scots to the King of France,‘Well met, brother, too soone!Christ leeve that I had taken my wayUnto the court of Roome!’

‘And soe wold I,’ said the King of France,‘When I came over the streame,That I had taken my journeyUnto Jerusalem!’

Thus ends the battell of fair Durham,In one morning of May;The battells of Cressey and of Poytiers,All within one monthes day.

Then was wealthe and welfare in merry England,Solaces, game, and glee,And every man loved other well,And the King loved good yeomanrye.

But God that made the grasse to growe,And leaves on greenwoode tree,Now save and keepe our noble King,And maintaine good yeomanrye!

Back to Index Next