"In feith, Litulle Johne, with thee,
But euer for on as thou shetes," seid Robyn, 45
"In feith I holde the thre."
Thus shet thei forthe, these zemen too,
Bothe at buske and brome,
Til Litulle Johne wan of his maister
V s. to hose and shone. 50
A ferly strife fel them betwene,
As they went bi the way;
Litull Johne seid he had won v shyllyngs,
And Robyn Hode seid schortly nay.
With that Robyn Hode lyed Litul Jone, 55
And smote hym with his honde;
Litul John waxed wroth therwith,
And pulled out his bright bronde.
"Were thou not my maister," seid Litulle Johne,
"Thou shuldis by hit ful sore; 60
Get the a man where thou wilt, Robyn,
For thou getes me no more."
Then Robyn goes to Notyngham,
Hymselfe mornynge allone,
And Litulle Johne to mery Scherewode, 65
The pathes he knowe alkone.
Whan Robyn came to Notyngham,
Sertenly withoutene layne,
He prayed to God and myld Mary
To brynge hym out saue agayne. 70
He gos into seynt Mary chirche,
And knelyd downe before the rode;
Alle that euer were the churche within
Beheld wel Robyne Hode.
Beside hym stode a gret-hedid munke, 75
I pray to God woo he be;
Ful sone he knew gode Robyn
As sone as he hym se.
Out at the durre he ran
Ful sone and anon; 80
Alle the zatis of Notyngham
He made to be sparred euerychone.
"Rise vp," he seid, "thou prowde schereff,
Buske the and make the bowne;
I haue spyed the kynges felone, 85
For sothe he is in this towne.
"I haue spyed the false felone,
As he stondes at his masse;
Hit is longe of the," seide the munke,
"And euer he fro vs passe. 90
"This traytur[s] name is Robyn Hode;
Vnder the grene wode lynde,
He robbyt me onys of a C pound,[L93]
Hit shalle neuer out of my mynde."
Vp then rose this prowd schereff, 95
And zade towarde hym zare;
Many was the modur son
To the kyrk with him can fare.
In at the durres thei throly thrast
With staves ful gode ilkone,[L100] 100
"Alas, alas," seid Robin Hode,
"Now mysse I Litulle Johne."
But Robyne toke out a too-hond sworde
That hangit down be his kne;
Ther as the schereff and his men stode thyckust, 105
Thidurward wold he.
Thryes thorow at them he ran,
Then for sothe as I yow say,
And woundyt many a modur sone,
And xii he slew that day. 110
Hys sworde vpon the schireff hed
Sertanly he brake in too;
"The smyth that the made," seid Robyn,
"I pray God wyrke hym woo.
"For now am I weppynlesse," seid Robyne, 115
"Alasse, agayn my wylle;
But if I may fle these traytors fro,
I wot thei wil me kylle."
Robyns men to the churche ran
Throout hem euerilkon; 120
Sum fel in swonyng as thei were dede,
And lay still as any stone.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Non of theym were in her mynde
But only Litulle Jon.
"Let be your dule," seid Litulle Jon,[L125] 125
"For his luf that dyed on tre;
Ze that shulde be duzty men,
Hit is gret shame to se.
"Oure maister has bene hard bystode,
And zet scapyd away; 130
Pluk up your hertes and leve this mone,
And herkyn what I shal say.
"He has seruyd our lady many a day,
And zet wil securly;
Therefore I trust in her specialy 135
No wycked deth shal he dye.
"Therfor be glad," seid Litul Johne,
"And let this mournyng be,
And I shall be the munkes gyde,
With the myght of mylde Mary. 140
"And I mete hym," seid Litull Johne,
"We wille go but we too
* * * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
"Loke that ze kepe wel our tristil tre
Vnder the levys smale,
And spare non of this venyson 145
That gose in thys vale."
Forthe thei went these zemen too,
Litul Johne and Moche onfere,
And lokid on Moche emys hows
The hyeway lay fulle nere. 150
Litul John stode at a window in the mornynge,
And lokid forth at a stage;
He was war wher the munke came ridynge,
And with hym a litul page.
"Be my feith," seid Litul Johne to Moche, 155
"I can the tel tithyngus gode;
I se wher the munk comys rydyng,
I know hym be his wyde hode."
Thei went into the way these zemen bothe,
As curtes men and hende, 160
Thei spyrred tithyngus at the munke,
As thei hade bene his frende.
"Fro whens come ze," seid Litul Johne;
"Tel vs tithyngus, I yow pray,
Off a false owtlay [called Robyn Hode], 165
Was takyn zisturday.
"He robbyt me and my felowes bothe
Of xx marke in serten;
If that false owtlay be takyn,
For sothe we wolde be fayne." 170
"So did he me," seid the munke,
"Of a C pound and more;
I layde furst hande hym apon,
Ze may thonke me therfore."
"I pray God thanke yow," seid Litulle Johne, 175
"And we wil when we may;
We wil go with yow, with your leve,
And brynge yow on your way.
"For Robyn Hode hase many a wilde felow,
I telle yow in certen; 180
If thei wist ze rode this way,
In feith ze shulde be slayn."
As thei went talkyng be the way,
The munke and Litulle Johne,
Johne toke the munkes horse be the hede 185
Ful sone and anone.
Johne toke the munkes horse be the hed,
For sothe as I yow say,
So did Muche the litulle page,
For he shulde not stirre away. 190
Be the golett of the hode
Johne pulled the munke downe;
Johne was nothynge of hym agast,
He lete hym falle on his crowne.
Litulle Johne was sore agrevyd,[L195] 195
And drew out his swerde in hye;
The munke saw he shulde be ded,
Lowd mercy can he crye.
"He was my maister," seid Litulle Johne,
"That thou hase browzt in bale; 200
Shalle thou neuer cum at oure kynge
For to telle hym tale."
John smote of the munkes hed,
No longer wolde he dwelle;
So did Moche the litulle page, 205
For ferd lest he wold tell.
Ther thei beryed hem both
In nouther mosse nor lynge,
And Litulle Johne and Muche infere
Bare the letturs to oure kyng. 210
* * * * * *
He kneled down vpon his kne,
"God zow saue, my lege lorde,
"Jesus yow saue and se.
"God yow saue, my lege kyng,"
To speke Johne was fulle bolde; 215
He gaf hym the letturs in his hond,
The kyng did hit unfold.
The kyng red the letturs anon,
And seid, "so mot I the,
Ther was neuer zoman in mery Inglond 220
I longut so sore to see.
"Wher is the munke that these shuld haue browzt?"
Oure kynge gan say;
"Be my trouthe," seid Litull Jone,
"He dyed aftur the way." 225
The kyng gaf Moche and Litul Jon
xx pound in sertan,
And made theim zemen of the crowne,
And bade theim go agayn.
He gaf Johne the seel in hand, 230
The scheref for to bere,
To brynge Robyn hym to,
And no man do hym dere.
Johne toke his leve at oure kyng,
The sothe as I yow say; 235
The next way to Notyngham
To take he zede the way.
When Johne came to Notyngham
The zatis were sparred ychone;
Johne callid vp the porter, 240
He answerid sone anon.
"What is the cause," seid Litul John,
"Thou sparris the zates so fast?"
"Because of Robyn Hode," seid [the] porter,
In depe prison is cast. 245
"Johne, and Moche, and Wylle Scathlok,
For sothe as I yow say,
Thir slew oure men vpon oure wallis,
And sawtene vs euery day."
Litulle Johne spyrred aftur the schereff, 250
And sone he hym fonde;
He oppyned the kyngus privè seelle,
And gaf hym in his honde.
"When the schereff saw the kyngus seelle,
He did of his hode anon; 255
"Wher is the munke that bare the letturs?"
He seid to Litulle Johne.
"He is so fayn of hym," seid Litulle Johne,
"For sothe as I yow sey,
He has made hym abot of Westmynster, 260
A lorde of that abbay."
The scheref made John gode chere,
And gaf hym wine of the best;
At nyzt thei went to her bedde,
And euery man to his rest. 265
When the scheref was on-slepe
Dronken of wine and ale,
Litul Johne and Moche for sothe
Toke the way vnto the jale.[L269]
Litul Johne callid vp the jayler, 270
And bade hym ryse anon;
He seid Robyn Hode had brokyn preson,
And out of hit was gon.
The portere rose anon sertan,
As sone as he herd John calle; 275
Litul Johne was redy with a swerd,
And bare hym to the walle.
"Now will I be porter," seid Litul Johne,
"And take the keyes in honde;"
He toke the way to Robyn Hode, 280
And sone he hym vnbonde.
He gaf hym a gode swerd in his hond,
His hed with for to kepe,
And ther as the walle was lowyst
Anon down can thei lepe. 285
Be that the cok began to crow,
The day began to sprynge,
The scheref fond the jaylier ded,
The comyn belle made he rynge.
He made a crye thoroowt al the tow[n], 290
Whedur he be zoman or knave,
That cowthe brynge hym Robyn Hode,
His warisone he shuld haue.
"For I dar neuer," said the scheref,
"Cum before oure kynge, 295
For if I do, I wot serten,
For sothe he wil me henge."
The scheref made to seke Notyngham,
Bothe be strete and stye,
And Robyn was in mery Scherwode 300
As lizt as lef on lynde.
Then bespake gode Litulle Johne,
To Robyn Hode can he say,
"I haue done the a gode turne for an euylle,
Quyte me whan thou may.[L305] 305
"I haue done the a gode turne," said Litulle Johne,
"For sothe as I you saie;
I haue brouzt the vnder grene wode lyne;
Fare wel, and haue gode day."
"Nay, be my trouthe," seid Robyn Hode, 310
"So shalle hit neuer be;
I make the maister," seid Robyn Hode,
"Off alle my men and me."
"Nay, be my trouthe," seid Litulle Johne,
"So shall hit neuer be, 315
But lat me be a felow," seid Litulle Johne,
"Non odur kepe I'll be."
Thus Johne gate Robyn Hode out of prisone,
Sertan withoutyn layne;
When his men saw hym hol and sounde, 320
For sothe they were ful fayne.
They filled in wyne, and made him glad,
Vnder the levys smale,
And zete pastes of venysone,
That gode was with ale. 325
Than worde came to oure kynge,
How Robyn Hode was gone,
And how the scheref of Notyngham
Durst neuer loke hyme vpone.
Then bespake oure cumly kynge, 330
In an angur hye,
"Litulle Johne hase begyled the schereff,
In faith so hase he me.
"Litulle Johne has begyled vs bothe,
And that fulle wel I se, 335
Or ellis the schereff of Notyngham
Hye hongut shuld he be.
"I made hem zemen of the crowne,
And gaf hem fee with my hond,
I gaf hem grithe," seid oure kyng, 340
"Thorowout alle mery Inglond.
"I gaf hem grithe," then seide oure kyng,
"I say, so mot I the,
For sothe soche a zeman as he is on
In alle Ingland ar not thre. 345
"He is trew to his maister," seide oure kynge,
"I sey, be swete seynt Johne;
He louys bettur Robyn Hode,
Then he dose vs ychone.
"Robyne Hode is euer bond to him, 350
Bothe in strete and stalle;
Speke no more of this matter," seid oure kynge,[L352]
"But John has begyled vs alle."
Thus endys the talkyng of the munke
And Robyne Hode i-wysse;
God, that is euer a crowned kyng,
Bryng vs alle to his blisse.
32. MS. ther.
39. MS. th' now.
93. See the Fourth Fit of the _Lyttell Geste_.
100. MS. gode wone.
125. MS. rule.
195. MS. so.
269, gale.
305. MS. Quyte the.
352. MS. mere.
ROBIN HOOD AND THE POTTER.
From Ritson's _Robin Hood_, i. 81. "This curious, and hitherto
unpublished, and even unheard of old piece," remarks that editor, "is
given from a manuscript among Bishop More's collections, in the Public
Library of the University of Cambridge (Ee. 4. 35). The writing, which
is evidently that of a vulgar and illiterate person, appears to be of
the age of Henry VII., that is, about the year 1500; but the
composition (which he has irremediably corrupted) is probably of an
earlier period, and much older, no doubt, than _The Play of Robyn
Hode_, which seems allusive to the same story."
Mr. Wright thinks the manuscript is proved to be of the time of Henry
VI. by a memorandum on one page, setting forth the expenses of the
feast on the marriage of the king with Margaret:--"Thys ys exspences
of fflesche at the mariage of my ladey Marg'et, that sche had owt off
Eynglonde." But this memorandum is more likely to apply to Margaret,
daughter of Henry VII., who was married "_out_ of England," that is,
in Scotland, to James IV., than to the Margaret who was married _in_
England to Henry VI. (_Ed. Rev._ lxxxvi. 126.)
The adventure in the first part of this story,--the encounter between
Robin Hood and a sturdy fellow who proves his match or his
superior--forms the subject of a large number of this circle of
ballads, the antagonist being in one case a beggar, in another a
tanner, a tinker, the pinder of Wakefield, &c. (See the preface to
_Robin Hood and the Beggar_, p. 188.) The story of the second part is
found again in _Robin Hood and the Butcher_, and, with considerable
differences, in the third fit of the _Lytell Geste_.
It is in the disguise of a potter that the Saxon Hereward penetrates
into the Norman court, and that Eustace the Monk eludes the vengeance
of the Count of Boulogne. Eustace also drew his enemy into an ambush
by nearly the same stratagem which Robin employs to entice the sheriff
of Nottingham into the forest. (See the romances abridged in Wright's
_Essays_, ii. 108, 133, 135, 184.)
In schomer, when the leves spryng,
The bloschems on every bowe,
So merey doyt the berdys syng
Yn wodys merey now.
Herkens, god yemen, 5
Comley, corteysse, and god,[L6]
On of the best that yever bar bou,
Hes name was Roben Hode.
Roben Hood was the yemans name,
That was boyt corteys and fre; 10
For the loffe of owr ladey,
All wemen werschep he.[L12]
Bot as the god yemen stod on a day,
Among hes mery manèy,
He was war of a prowd potter, 15
Cam dryfyng owyr the ley.[L16]
"Yonder comet a prod potter," seyde Roben,[L17]
"That long hayt hantyd this wey;
He was never so corteys a man
On peney of pawage to pay." 20
"Y met hem bot at Wentbreg," seyde Lytyll John,[L21]
"And therfor yeffell mot he the,
Seche thre strokes he me gafe,
Yet they cleffe by my seydys.
"Y ley forty shillings," seyde Lytyll John, 25
"To pay het thes same day,
Ther ys nat a man among hus all
A wed schall make hem ley."[L28]
"Her ys forty shillings," seyde Roben,
"Mor, and thow dar say, 30
That y schall make that prowde potter,
A wed to me schall he ley."
Ther thes money they leyde,
They toke het a yeman to kepe;
Roben befor the potter he breyde, 35
And bad hem stond stell.[L36]
Handys apon hes horse he leyde,
And bad the potter stonde foll stell;
The potter schorteley to hem seyde,
"Felow, what ys they well?" 40
"All thes thre yer, and mor, potter," he seyde,
"Thow hast hantyd thes wey,
Yet wer tow never so cortys a man
One peney of pauage to pay."
"What ys they name," seyde the potter, 45
"For pauage thow ask of me?"
"Roben Hod ys mey name,
A wed schall thow leffe me."
"Wed well y non leffe," seyde the potter,
"Nor pavag well y non pay; 50
Awey they honde fro mey horse,
Y well the tene eyls, be mey fay."
The potter to hes cart he went,
He was not to seke;
A god to-hande staffe therowt he hent, 55
Befor Roben he lepe.[L56]
Roben howt with a swerd bent,
A bokeler en hes honde [therto];
The potter to Roben he went,
And seyde, "Felow, let mey horse go." 60
Togeder then went thes two yemen,
Het was a god seyt to se;
Therof low Robyn hes men,
Ther they stod onder a tre.
Leytell John to hes felowhes seyde,[L65] 65
"Yend potter welle steffeley stonde:"
The potter, with an acward stroke,[L67]
Smot the bokeler owt of hes honde;
And ar Roben meyt get hem agen[L69]
Hes bokeler at hes fette, 70
The potter yn the neke hem toke,
To the gronde sone he yede.
That saw Roben hes men,
As thay stode ender a bow;
"Let us helpe owr master," seyed Lytell John, 75
"Yonder potter els well hem sclo."[L76]
Thes yemen went with a breyde,[L77]
To ther master they cam.[L78]
Leytell John to hes master seyde,
"Ho haet the wager won? 80
"Schall y haff yowr forty shillings," seyde Lytel John,
"Or ye, master, schall haffe myne?"
"Yeff they wer a hundred," seyde Roben,
"Y feythe, they ben all theyne."
"Het ys fol leytell cortesey," seyde the potter, 85
"As y haffe harde weyse men saye,
Yeff a por yeman com drywyng ower the wey,
To let hem of hes gorney."
"Be mey trowet, thow seys soyt," seyde Roben,
"Thow seys god yemenrey;[L90] 90
And thow dreyffe forthe yevery day,
Thow schalt never be let for me.
"Y well prey the, god potter,
A felischepe well thow haffe?
Geffe me they clothyng, and thow schalt hafe myne; 95
Y well go to Notynggam."
"Y grant therto," seyde the potter,[L97]
"Thow schalt feynde me a felow gode;
Bot thow can sell mey pottes well,
Come ayen as thow yode."[L100] 100
"Nay, be mey trowt," seyde Roben,
"And then y bescro mey hede
Yeffe y bryng eney pottes ayen,
And eney weyffe well hem chepe."
Than spake Leytell John, 105
And all hes felowhes heynd,
"Master, be well war of the screffe of Notynggam,
For he ys leytell howr frende."
"Heyt war howte," seyde Roben,[L109]
"Felowhes, let me alone; 110
Thorow the helpe of howr ladey,
To Notynggam well y gon."
Robyn went to Notynggam,[L113]
Thes pottes for to sell;
The potter abode with Robens men, 115
Ther he fered not eylle.
Tho Roben droffe on hes wey,
So merey ower the londe:
Heres mor and affter ys to saye,
The best ys beheynde. 120
MS. 6, cortessey.
12, ye.
16, lefe.
MS. 17, 21, syde.
28, leffe.
36, A.
MS. 56, leppyd.
MS. 65, felow he.
67, a caward.
69, A.
76, seyde hels.
77, went yemen.
78, thes.
MS. 90, yemerey.
97, grat.
100, yede.
109-112. These lines stand in the MS. in the order 3, 2, 1, 4.
113-116. This stanza is wrongly placed in the MS. after v. 96. It
should he either in the place where it stands, or else begin the
next fit.
[THE SECOND FIT.]
When Roben cam to Notynggam,
The soyt yef y scholde saye,
He set op hes horse anon,
And gaffe hem hotys and haye.
Yn the medys of the towne, 125
Ther he schowed hes war;
"Pottys! pottys!" he gan crey foll sone,
"Haffe hansell for the mar."
Foll effen agenest the screffeys gate
Schowed he hes chaffar; 130
Weyffes and wedowes abowt hem drow,
And chepyd fast of hes war.
Yet, "Pottys, gret chepe!" creyed Royn,
"Y loffe yeffell thes to stonde;"
And all that saw hem sell,[L135] 135
Seyde he had be no potter long.
The pottys that wer werthe pens feyffe,
He sold tham for pens thre;
Preveley seyde man and weyffe,
"Ywnder potter schall never the." 140
Thos Roben solde foll fast,
Tell he had pottys bot feyffe;
Op he hem toke of his ear,
And sende hem to the screffeys weyffe.
Therof sche was foll fayne, 145
"Gramarsey, sir," than seyde sche;[L146]
"When ye com to thes contre ayen,
Y schall bey of they pottys, so mot y the."[L148]
"Ye schall haffe of the best," seyde Roben,
And swar be the treneytè; 150
Foll corteysley she gan hem call,[L151]
"Com deyne with the screfe and me."
"Godamarsey," seyde Roben,
"Yowr bedyng schalle be doyn;
A mayden yn the pottys gan ber, 155
Roben and the screffe weyffe folowed anon.
Whan Roben ynto the hall cam,
The screffe sone he met;
The potter cowed of corteysey,
And sone the screffe he gret. 160
"Loketh what thes potter hayt geffe yow and me;[L161]
Feyffe pottys smalle and grete!"
"He ys fol wellcom," seyd the screffe,
"Let os was, and go to mete."[L164]
As they sat at her methe, 165
With a nobell cher,
Two of the screffes men gan speke
Off a gret wagèr,
Was made the thother daye,[L169]
Off a schotyng was god and feyne,[L170] 170
Off forty shillings, the soyt to saye,
Who scholde thes wager wen.
Styll than sat thes prowde potter,
Thos than thowt he;
"As y am a trow Cerstyn man, 175
Thes schotyng well y se."
Whan they had fared of the best.
With bred and ale and weyne,
To the bottys they made them prest,[L179]
With bowes and boltys foll feyne.[L180] 180
The screffes men schot foll fast,
As archares that weren godde;
Ther cam non ner ney the marke
Bey halfe a god archares bowe.
Stell then stod the prowde potter, 185
Thos than seyde he;
"And y had a bow, be the rode,
On schot scholde yow se."
"Thow schall haffe a bow," seyde the screffe,
"The best that thow well cheys of thre; 190
Thou semyst a stalward and a stronge,[L191]
Asay schall thow be."
The screffe commandyd a yeman that stod hem bey
Affter bowhes to wende;
The best bow that the yeman browthe 195
Roben set on a stryng.
"Now schall y wet and thow be god,
And polle het op to they ner;"
"So god me helpe," seyde the prowde potter,
"Thys ys bot rygzt weke ger." 200
To a quequer Roben went,
A god bolt owthe he toke;
So ney on to the marke he went,
He fayled not a fothe.
All they schot abowthe agen, 205
The screffes men and he;
Off the marke he welde not fayle,
He cleffed the preke on thre.
The screffes men thowt gret schame,
The potter the mastry wan; 210
The screffe lowe and made god game,
And seyde, "Potter, thow art a man;
Thow art worthey to ber a bowe,
Yn what plas that thow gang."[L214]
"Yn mey cart y haffe a bowe, 215
Forsoyt," he seyde, "and that a godde;
Yn mey cart ys the bow
That I had of Robyn Hode."[L218]
"Knowest thow Robyn Hode?" seyde the screffe,
"Potter, y prey the tell thou me;" 220
"A hundred torne y haffe schot with hem,
Under hes tortyll tree."
"Y had lever nar a hundred ponde," seyde the screffe,
And swar be the trenitè,
["Y had lever nar a hundred ponde," he seyde,] 225
That the fals owtelawe stod be me.
"And ye well do afftyr mey red," seyde the potter,
"And boldeley go with me,
And to morow, or we het bred,
Roben Hode wel we se." 230
"Y well queyt the," kod the screffe,
And swer be god of meythe;[L232]
Schetyng thay left, and hom they went,
Her scoper was redey deythe.
Upon the morow, when het was day, 235
He boskyd hem forthe to reyde;
The potter hes carte forthe gan ray,
And wolde not [be] leffe beheynde.
He toke leffe of the screffys wyffe,
And thankyd her of all thyng: 240
"Dam, for mey loffe, and ye well thys wer,
Y geffe yow her a golde ryng."
"Gramarsey," seyde the weyffe,
"Sir, god eylde het the;"
The screffes hart was never so leythe, 245
The feyr forest to se.
And when he cam ynto the foreyst,
Yonder the leffes grene,
Berdys ther sange on bowhes prest,
Het was gret joy to sene.[L250] 250
"Her het ys merey to be," seyde Roben,[L251]
"For a man that had hawt to spende;
Be mey horne we schall awet
Yeff Roben Hode be ner hande."[L254]
Roben set hes horne to hes mowthe,[L255] 255
And blow a blast that was foll god,
That herde hes men that ther stode,
Fer downe yn the wodde;
"I her mey master" seyde Leytell John;[L259]
They ran as thay wer wode. 260
Whan thay to thar master cam,
Leytell John wold not spar;
"Master, how haffe yow far yn Notynggam?
How haffe yow solde yowr war?"
"Ye, be mey trowthe, Leytyll John,[L265] 265
Loke thow take no car;
Y haffe browt the screffe of Notynggam,
For all howr chaffar."
"He ys foll wellcom," seyde Lytyll John,
"Thes tydyng ys foll godde; 270
The screffe had lever nar a hundred ponde
[He had never sene Roben Hode.]
"Had I west that beforen,[L273]
At Notynggam when we wer,
Thow scholde not com yn feyr forest 275
Of all thes thowsande eyr."
"That wot y well," seyde Roben,
"Y thanke god that ye be her;
Therfor schall ye leffe yowr horse with hos,
And all your hother ger." 280
"That fend I godys forbode," kod the screffe,
"So to lese mey godde;"
"Hether ye cam on horse foll hey,[L283]
And hom schall ye go on fote;
And gret well they weyffe at home, 285
The woman ys foll godde.
"Y schall her sende a wheyt palffrey,[L287]
Het hambellet as the weynde;
Ner for the loffe of yowr weyffe,
Off mor sorow scholde yow seyng." 290
Thes parted Robyn Hode and the screffe,
To Notynggam he toke the waye;
Hes weyffe feyr welcomed hem hom,
And to hem gan sche saye:
"Seyr, how haffe yow fared yn grene foreyst? 295
Haffe ye browt Roben hom?"
"Dam, the deyell spede him, bothe bodey and bon,
Y haffe hade a foll grete skorne.
"Of all the god that y haffe lade to grene wod,
He hayt take het fro me, 300
All bot this feyr palffrey,
That he hayt sende to the."
With that sche toke op a lowde lawhyng,
And swhar be hem that deyed on tre,
"Now haffe yow payed for all the pottys 305
That Roben gaffe to me.
"Now ye be com hom to Notynggam,
Ye schall haffe god ynowe;"
Now speke we of Roben Hode,
And of the pottyr onder the grene bowhe.[L310] 310
"Potter, what was they pottys worthe
To Notynggam that y ledde with me?"
"They wer worth two nobellys," seyd he,
"So mot y treyffe or the;
So cowde y had for tham, 315
And y had ther be."[L316]
"Thow schalt hafe ten ponde," seyde Roben,
"Of money feyr and fre;
And yever whan thou comest to grene wod,
Wellcom, potter to me." 320
Thes partyd Robyn, the screffe, and the potter,
Ondernethe the grene-wod tre;
God haffe mersey on Robyn Hodys solle,
And saffe all god yemanrey!
MS. 135, say.
146, Gereamarsey, sir, seyde sche s'than.
148, the.
151, he.
MS. 161, loseth. 164, to to.
164. This ceremony [of washing,] which, in former times, was
constantly practised as well before as after meat, seems to have
fallen into disuse on the introduction of forks, about the year
1620; as before that period our ancestors supplied the place of this
necessary utensil with their fingers.--RITSON.
169, 170, transposed in MS.
MS. 179, pottys the.
180, bolt yt.
191, senyst.
MS. 214, goe.
218, Robyng gaffe me.
232, mey they.
MS. 250, goy.
251, se.
254, he.
255, her.
259. For.
MS. 265, I leyty.
273, He had west.
283, y.
287. The MS. repeats this line after the following: Het ambellet be
mey sey.
MS. 310, bowhes.
316, be ther.
ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER.
Ritson's _Robin Hood_, ii. 27. Printed from an old black-letter copy
in the collection of Anthony à Wood. The story is the same as in the
second part of _Robin Hood and the Potter_.