You are brave fellows ! said the bishòp,_Robin Hood A collection of all the ancient poems, songs, and ballads, now extant, relative to that celebrated English outlaw. To which are prefixed historical anecdotes of his life.

And the king of your doings shall know :

Therefore make haste, and come along with me,

For before the king you shall go.

O pardon, O pardon, said bold Robin Hood,

O pardon, I thee pray ;

For it becomes not your lordships coat

To take so many lives away.

No pardon, no pardon, said the bishòp,

No pardon I thee owe ;

Therefore make haste, and come along with me,

For before the king you shall go.

Then Robin set his back against a tree,

And his foot against a thorn,

And from underneath his shepherds coat

He pull’d out a bugle-horn.

He put the little end to his mouth,

And a loud blast did he blow,

Till threescore and ten of bold Robin’s men

Came running all on a row ;

All making obeysance to bold Robin Hood ;

’Twas a comely sight for to see.

What is the matter, master, said Little John,

That you blow so hastily ? {301}

“O here is the bishop of Herefòrd,

And no pardon we shall have.”

Cut off his head, master, said Little John,

And throw him into his grave.

O pardon, O pardon, said the bishòp,

O pardon I thee pray ;

For if I had known it had been you,

I’d have gone some other way.

No pardon, no pardon, said bold Robin Hood,

No pardon I thee owe ;

Therefore make haste, and come along with me,

For to merry Barnsdale you shall go.

Then Robin he took the bishop by the hand,

And led him to merry Barnsdale ;

He made him to stay and sup with him that night,

And to drink wine, beer, and ale.

Call in a reckoning, said the bishòp,

For methinks it grows wond’rous high.

Lend me your purse, master, said Little John,

And I’ll tell you bye and bye.

Then Little John took the bishop’s cloak,

And spread it upon the ground,

And out of the bishop’s portmantua

He told three hundred pound. {302}

Here’s money enough, master, said Little John,

And a comely sight ’tis to see ;

It makes me in charity with the bishòp,

Tho’ he heartily loveth not me.

Robin Hood took the bishop by the hand,

And he caused the music to play ;

And he made the [old] bishop to dance in his boots,

And glad he could so get away.

[Music]

[Illustration]

{303}

[Illustration]

XXIII.

ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THE WIDOW’S THREE SONS FROM THE SHERIFF WHEN

GOING TO BE EXECUTED.

This ballad, from the York edition of “Robin Hood’s Garland,” is

probably one of the oldest extant of which he is the subject. In

the more common editions is a modernised copy, in which the “silly

old woman” is converted into “a gay lady;” but even this is more

ancient than many of the pieces here inserted, and is entitled, by

its merit, to a place in the Appendix.

The circumstance of Robin’s changing clothes with the palmer is,

possibly, taken from an old romance intitled “The noble hystory

of the moost excellent and myghty prynce and hygh renowmed knyght

kynge Ponthus of Galyce and of lytell Brytayne, Enprynted at London

in Flete strete at the sygne of the sonne by Wynkyn de Worde, In

the yere of our lorde god, M.CCCCC.XI.,” 4to, b. l., sig. I. 6:

“And as he [Ponthus] rode he met with a poore palmer beggynge his

brede the whiche had his gowne all to clouted and an olde pylled

hatte, so he alyght and sayd to the palmer, frende we shall make a

chaunge of all our garmentes, for {304} ye shall have my gowne and

I shall have yours and your hatte. A syr sayd the palmer ye bourde

you with me. In good fayth sayd Ponthus I do not, so he dyspoyled

hym and cladde hym with all his rayment, and he put vpon hym the

poore mannes gowne, his gyrdell, his hosyn, his shone, his hatte,

and his bourden.”

There are twelve months in all the year,

As I hear many say,

But the merriest month in all the year

Is 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 thou for me ?”

Said she, There’s three squires in Nottingham town,

To-day ‘are’[322] condemned to die.

Oh, have they parishes burnt ? he said,

Or have they ministers slain ?

Or have they robbed any virgìn ?

Or with other men’s wives have lain ?

“They have no parishes burnt, good sir,

Nor yet have ministers slain,

Nor have they robbed any virgìn,

Nor with other men’s wives have lain.” {305}

Oh, what have they done ? said Robin Hood,

I pray thee tell to me.

“It’s for slaying of the kings 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 not tell it in better time.

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,

With a link, a down, and a ‘day,’[323]

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 town,

Are condemn’d to die this day.

“Come change thy apparel with me, old man,

Come change thy apparel for mine ;

Here is forty shillings in good silvèr,

Go drink it in beer or wine.”

Oh, 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. {306}

“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, blew, and red ;

He thought it 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 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.

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. {307}

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,

With a link a down and a down,

And there he met with the proud sherìff,

Was walking along the town.

Oh ‘Christ you’ save, oh, sheriff, he said,[324]

Oh ‘Christ you save and’ see ;

And what will you give to a silly old man

To-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 thirteen,

To-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. {308}

I have a horn in my pockèt.

I got it from Robin Hood,

And still when I set it to my mouth,

For ‘thee’[325] it blows little good.

“Oh, wind thy horn, thou proud fellòw,

Of thee I have no doubt ;

I wish that thou give such a blast,

Till 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 Hoods men

Came riding over the hill.

The next loud blast that he did give,

He blew both loud and amain,

And quickly sixty of Robin Hoods men,

Came shining over the plain.

Oh, who are ‘those,’ 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,

They set it in the glen,

They hang’d the proud sherìff on that,

Releas’d their own three men.

{309}

[Illustration]

XXIV.

ROBIN HOOD AND MAID MARIAN.

This ballad, which has never been inserted in any of the

publications intitled “Robin Hood’s Garland” (and, perhaps, was

not worth inserting here), is given from an old black letter copy

in the collection of Anthony a Wood. Its full title is, “A famous

battle between Robin Hood and Maid Marian; declaring their love,

life, and liberty. Tune, Robin Hood Reviv’d” (see before, p. 217).

A bonny fine maid of a noble degree,

_With a hey down, down, a down, down_,

Maid Marian call’d by name,

Did live in the North, of excellent worth,

For shee was a gallant dame. {310}

For favour and face, and beauty most rare,

Queen Hellen shee did excell :

For Marian then was prais’d of all men,

That did in the country dwell.

’Twas neither Rosamond nor Jane Shore,

Whose beauty was clear and bright,

That could surpass this country lass,

Beloved of lord and knight.

The earl of Huntington, nobly born,

That came of noble blood,

To Marian went, with a good intent,

By the name of Robin Hood.

With kisses sweet their red lips did meet,

For she and the earl did agree ;

In every place, they kindly embrace,

With love and sweet unity.

But fortune bearing these lovers a spight,

That soon they were forced to part :

To the merry green wood then went Robin Hood,

With a sad and sorrowfull heart.

And Marian, poor soul, was troubled in mind,

For the absence of her friend ;

With finger in eye, shee often did cry,

And his person did much comend. {311}

Perplexed and vexed, and troubled in mind,

Shee drest herself like a page,

And ranged the wood, to find Robin Hood,

The bravest of men in that age.

With quiver and bow, sword, buckler, and all,

Thus armed was Marian most bold,

Still wandering about to find Robin out,

Whose person was better then gold.

But Robin Hood, hee himself had disguis’d,

And Marian was strangly attir’d,

That they prov’d foes, and so fell to blowes,

Whose vallour bold Robin admir’d.

They drew out their swords, and to cutting they went,

At least an hour or more,

That the blood ran apace from bold Robins face,

And Marian was wounded sore.

O hold thy hand, hold thy hand, said Robin Hood,

And thou shalt be one of my string,

To range in the wood with bold Robin Hood,

And hear the sweet nightingall sing.

When Marian did hear the voice of her love,

Herself shee did quickly discover,

And with kisses sweet she did him greet,

Like to a most loyall lover. {312}

When bold Robin Hood his Marian did see,

Good lord, what clipping was there !

With kind embraces, and jobbing of faces,

Providing of gallant cheer.

For Little John took his bow in his hand,

And ‘wandred’[326] in the wood,

To kill the deer, and make good chear,

For Marian and Robin Hood.

A stately banquet ‘they’ had full soon,

All in a shaded bower,

Where venison sweet they had to eat,

And were merry that present hour.

Great flaggons of wine were set on the board,

And merrily they drunk round

Their boules of sack, to strengthen the back,

Whilst their knees did touch the ground.

First Robin Hood began a health

To Marian his onely dear ;

And his yeomen all, both comly and tall,

Did quickly bring up the rear :

For in a brave venie they tost off the bouls,

Whilst thus they did remain ;

And every cup, as they drunk up,

They filled with speed again. {313}

At last they ended their merryment,

And went to walk in the wood,

Where Little John, and Maid Mariàn,

Attended on bold Robin Hood.

In sollid content together they liv’d,

With all their yeomen gay ;

They liv’d by ‘their’ hands, without any lands,

And so they did many a day.

But now to conclude an end I will make,

In time as I think it good ;

For the people that dwell in the North can tell

Of Marian and bold Robin Hood.

[Illustration]

{314}

[Illustration]

XXV.

THE KING’S DISGUISE, AND FRIENDSHIP WITH ROBIN HOOD,

from the common collection of Aldermary-church-yard, seems to be

taken from the old legend in Part I., and to have been written by

some miserable retainer to the press, merely to eke out the book;

being, in fact, a most contemptible performance.

The two concluding lines (the same with those of the next ballad)

refer to song xxvii., which they have once immediately preceded.

King Richard hearing of the pranks

Of Robin Hood and his men,

He much admir’d, and more desired

To see both him and them. {315}

Then, with a dozen of his lords,

To Nottingham he rode ;

When he came there, he made good cheer,

And took up his abode.

He having staid there some time,

But had no hopes to speed,

He and his lords, with one accord,

All put on monks weeds.

From Fountain-abbey they did ride,

Down to Barnsdale ;

Where Robin Hood prepared stood

All company to assail.

The king was higher than the rest,

And Robin thought he had

An abbot been whom he had seen,

To rob him he was glad.

He took the king’s horse by the head,

Abbot, says he, abide ;

I am bound to rue such knaves as you,

That live in pomp and pride.

But we are messengers from the king,

The king himself did say ;

Near to this place his royal grace

To speak with thee does stay. {316}

God save the king, said Robin Hood,

And all that wish him well ;

He that does deny his sovereignty,

I wish he was in hell.

Thyself thou cursedst, says the king,

For thou a traitor art.

“Nay, but that you are his messenger,

I swear you lie in heart.

For I never yet hurt any man

That honest is and true ;

But those who give their minds to live

Upon other mens due.

I never hurt the ‘husbandmen’

That use to till the ground :

Nor spill their blood who range the wood,

To follow hawk or hound.

My chiefest spite to clergy is,

Who in these days bear great sway ;

With fryars and monks, with their fine sprunks,

I make my chiefest prey.”

But I am very glad, says Robin Hood,

That I have met you here ;

Come, before we end, you shall, my friend,

Taste of our green-wood cheer. {317}

The king he then did marvel much,

And so did all his men ;

They thought with fear, what kind of cheer,

Robin would provide for them.

Robin took the kings horse by the head,

And led him to his tent :

Thou wouldst not be so us’d, quoth he,

But that my king thee sent.

Nay, more than that, quoth Robin Hood,

For good king Richards sake,

If you had as much gold as ever I told,

I would not one penny take.

Then Robin set his horn to his mouth,

And a loud blast he did blow,

Till a hundred and ten of Robin Hoods men,

Came marching all of a row.

And when they came bold Robin before,

Each man did bend his knee :

O, thought the king, ’tis a gallant thing,

And a seemly sight to see.

Within himself the king did say,

These men of Robin Hoods

More humble be than mine to me ;

So the court may learn of the woods. {318}

So then they all to dinner went,

Upon a carpet green ;

Black, yellow, red, finely minglèd,

Most curious to be seen.

Venison and fowls were plenty there,

With fish out of the river :

King Richard swore, on sea or shore,

He never was feasted better.

Then Robin takes a cann of ale :

“Come, let us now begin ;

And every man shall have his cann :

Here’s a health unto the king.”

The king himself drank to the king,

So round about it went ;

Two barrels of ale, both stout and stale,

To pledge that health was spent.

And, after that, a bowl of wine

In his hand took Robin Hood ;

Until I die, I’ll drink wine, said he,

While I live in the green wood.

Bend all your bows, said Robin Hood,

And with the grey-goose-wing,

Such sport now show, as you would do

In the presence of the king. {319}

They shewed such brave archery,

By cleaving sticks and wands,

That the king did say, such men as they

Live not in many lands.

Well, Robin Hood, then says the king,

If I could thy pardon get,

To serve the king in every thing

Would’st thou thy mind firm set ?

Yes, ‘with all’ my heart, bold Robin said,

So they flung off their hoods ;

To serve the king in every thing,

They swore they would spend their ‘bloods.’

For a clergyman was first my bane,

Which makes me hate them all,

But if you will be so kind to me,

Love them again I shall.

The king no longer could forbear,

For he was mov’d with ‘ruth.’

. . . . . . . . . . .

“I am the king, ‘your’ sovereign king,

That appears before you all.”

When Robin saw that it was he,

Strait then he down did fall. {320}

Stand up again, then said the king,

I’ll thee thy pardon give ;

Stand up, my friend, who can contend,

When I give leave to live ?

So they are all gone to Nottingham,

All shouting as they came :

But when the people them did see,

They thought the king was slain ;

And for that cause the outlaws were come,

To rule all as they list ;

And for to shun, which ‘way’ to run,

The people did not wist.

The plowman left the plow in the fields,

The smith ran from his shop ;

Old folks also, that scarce could go,

Over their sticks did hop.

The king soon did let them understand

He had been in the green-wood,

And from that day, for evermore,

He’d forgiven Robin Hood.

Then [when] the people they did hear,

And [that] the truth was known,

They all did sing, God save the king !

Hang care, the town’s our own ! {321}

What’s that Robin Hood ? then said the sheriff,

That varlet I do hate ;

Both me and mine he caused to dine,

And serv’d us all with one plate.

Ho, ho, said Robin Hood, I know what you mean,

Come, take your gold again ;

Be friends with me, and I with thee,

And so with every man.

Now, master sheriff, you are paid,

And since you are beginner,

As well as you give me my due,

For you ne’er paid for that dinner.

But if ‘that it’ should please the king,

So much your house to grace,

To sup with you, for, to speak true,

[I] know you ne’er was base.

The sheriff [this] could not gainsay,

For a trick was put upon him ;

A supper was drest, the king was a guest,

But he thought ’twould have outdone him.

They are all gone to London court,

Robin Hood with all his train ;

He once was there a noble peer,

And now he’s there again. {322}

Many such pranks brave Robin play’d,

While he liv’d in the green wood :

Now, my friend, attend, and hear an end

Of honest Robin Hood.

[Illustration]

{323}

[Illustration]

XXVI.

ROBIN HOOD AND THE GOLDEN ARROW.

A composition of a similar nature with the preceding, and from the

same authority.

When as the sheriff of Nottingham

Was come with mickle grief,

He talk’d no good of Robin Hood,

That strong and sturdy thief.

_Fal la dal de._

So unto London road he past,

His losses to unfold

To king Richàrd, who did regard

The tale that he had told. {324}

Why, quoth the king, what shall I do ?

Art thou not sheriff for me ?

The law is in force, to take thy course

Of them that injure thee.

Go get thee gone, and by thyself

Devise some tricking game,

For to enthral yon rebels all,

Go take thy course with them.

So away the sheriff he return’d,

And by the way he thought

Of th’ words of the king, and how the thing

To pass might well be brought.

For within his mind he imaginèd,

That when such matches were,

Those outlaws stout, without all doubt,

Would be the bowmen there.

So an arrow with a golden head,

And shaft of silver-white,

Who on the day should bear away

For his own proper right.

Tidings came to bold Robin Hood,

Under the green-wood tree :

“Come prepare you then, my merry men,

We’ll go yon sport to see.” {325}

With that stept forth a brave young man,

David of Doncastèr,

Master, said he, be rul’d by me,

From the green wood we’ll not stir.

To tell the truth, I’m well inform’d,

Yon match it is a wile ;

The sheriff, I wiss, devises this

Us archers to beguile.

Thou smells of a coward, said Robin Hood,

Thy words do not please me ;

Come on’t what will, I’ll try my skill,

At yon brave archery.

O then bespoke brave Little John,

Come let us thither gang ;

Come listen to me, how it shall be,

That we need not be ken’d.

Our mantles all of Lincoln-green

Behind us we will leave ;

We’ll dress us all so several,

They shall not us perceive.

One shall wear white, another red,

One yellow, another blue ;

Thus in disguise, ‘to’ the exercise

We’ll gang, whate’er insue. {326}

Forth from the green wood they are gone,

With hearts all firm and stout,

Resolving [then] with the sheriff’s men

To have a hearty bout.

So themselves they mixed with the rest,

To prevent all suspicion ;

For if they should together hold,

They thought it no discretion.

So the sheriff ‘looked’ round about,

Amongst eight hundred men,

But could not see the sight that he

Had long suspected then.

Some said, If Robin Hood was here,

And all his men to boot,

Sure none of them could pass these men,

So bravely they do shoot.

Ay, quoth the sheriff, and scratch’d his head,

I thought he would have been here ;

I thought he would, but tho’ he’s bold,

He durst not now appear.

O that word griev’d Robin Hood to the heart,

He vexed in his blood ;

Ere long, thought he, thou shalt well see

That here was Robin Hood. {327}

Some cried, Blue jacket ! another cried, Brown !

And a third cried, Brave yellow !

But the fourth man said, Yon man in red

In this place has no fellow.

For that was Robin Hood himself,

For he was cloath’d in red ;

At every shot the prize he got,

For he was both sure and dead.

So the arrow with the golden head,

And shaft of silver-white,

Brave Robin Hood won, and bore with him,

For his own proper right.

These outlaws there, that very day,

To shun all kinds of doubt,

By three or four, no less nor more,

As they went in came out.

Until they all assembled were

Under the green-wood shade,

Where they ‘report,’ in pleasant sport,

What brave pastime they made.

Says Robin Hood, all my care is,

How that yon sheriff may

Know certainly that it was I

That bore his arrow away. {328}

Says Little John, My counsel good

Did take effect before,

So therefore now, if you’ll allow,

I will advise once more.

Speak on, speak on, said Robin Hood,

Thy wit’s both quick and sound,

. . . . . . . . . . .

This I advise, said Little John,

That a letter shall be penn’d,

And when it is done, to Nottingham

You to the sheriff shall send.

That is well advised, said Robin Hood,

But how must it be sent ?

“Pugh ! when you please, ’tis done with ease ;

Master, be you content.

I’ll stick it on my arrow’s head,

And shoot it into the town ;

The mark must show where it must go,

Whenever it lights down.”

The project it was well perform’d,

The sheriff that letter had,

Which when he read, he scratch’d his head,

And rav’d like one that’s mad. {329}

So we’ll leave him chafing in ‘his’ grease,

Which will do him no good :

Now, my friends, attend, and hear the end

Of honest Robin Hood.

[Illustration]

{330}

[Illustration]

XXVII.

ROBIN HOOD AND THE VALIANT KNIGHT.

“Together with an account of his death and burial, &c. Tune of

Robin Hood and the fifteen Foresters.” From the common garland of

Aldermary-church-yard; corrected by the York copy.

When Robin Hood, and his merry men all,

_Derry down, down_,

Had reigned many years,

The king was then told that they had been bold

To his bishops and noble peers.

_Hey down, derry, derry down._ {331}

Therefore they called a council of state,

To know what was best to be done,

For to quell their pride, or else they reply’d

The land would be over-run.

Having consulted a whole summer’s day,

At length it was agreed,

That one should be sent to try the event,

And fetch him away with speed.

Therefore a trusty and most worthy knight

The king was pleased to call,

Sir William by name ; when to him he came,

He told him his pleasure all.

“Go you from hence to bold Robin Hood,

And bid him, without more ado,

Surrender himself, or else the proud elf

Shall suffer with all his crew.

Take here a hundred bowmen brave,

All chosen men of great might,

Of excellent art to take thy part,

In glittering armour most bright.”

Then said the knight, My sovereign liege,

By me they shall be led ;

I’ll venture my blood against bold Robin Hood,

And bring him alive or dead. {332}

One hundred men were chosen straight,

As proper as e’er men saw :

On Midsummer-day they marched away,

To conquer that brave outlaw.

With long yew bows, and shining spears,

They march’d with mickle pride,

And never delay’d, nor halted, nor stay’d

Till they came to the green-wood side.

Said he to his archers, Tarry here,

Your bows make ready all,

That if need should be, you may follow me,

And see you observe my call.

I’ll go first in person, he cry’d,

With the letters of my good king,

Well sign’d and seal’d, and if he will yield,

We need not to draw one string.

He wander’d about till at length he came

To the tent of Robin Hood ;

The letter he shows ; bold Robin arose,

And there on his guard he stood.

They’d have me surrender, quoth bold Robin Hood,

And lie at their mercy then ;

But tell them from me, that never shall be,

While I have full seven score men. {333}

Sir William the knight, both hardy and bold,

He offer’d to seize him there,

Which William Locksley by fortune did see,

And bid him that trick to forbear.

Then Robin Hood set his horn to his mouth,

And blew a blast or twain,

And so did the knight, at which there in sight

The archers came all amain.

Sir William with care he drew up his men,

And plac’d them in battle-array ;

Bold Robin, we find, he was not behind :

Now this was a bloody fray.

The archers on both sides bent their bows,

And the clouds of arrows flew ;

The very first flight that honour’d knight

Did there bid the world adieu.

Yet nevertheless their fight did last

From morning till almost noon ;

Both parties were stout, and loth to give out,

This was on the last day of June.

At length they left off : one party they went

To London with right good will ;

And Robin Hood he to the green-wood tree,

And there he was taken ill. {334}

He sent for a monk, to let him blood,

Who took his life away ;

Now this being done, his archers they run,

It was not a time to stay.

Some got on board, and cross’d the seas,

To Flanders, France, and Spain,

And others to Rome, for fear of their doom,

But soon return’d again.

[Illustration]

{335}

[Illustration]

XXVIII.

ROBIN HOOD’S DEATH AND BURIAL:

“Shewing how he was taken ill, and how he went to his cousin at

Kirkley-hall, who let him blood, which was the cause of his death.

Tune of Robin Hood’s Last Farewel, &c.”

This very old and curious piece is preserved solely in the editions

of “Robin Hood’s Garland” printed at York (or such as have been

taken from them), where it is made to conclude with some foolish

lines (adopted from the London copy of the preceding ballad), in

order to introduce the epitaph. It is here given from a collation

of two different copies, containing numerous variations, a few of

which are retained in the margin.

When Robin Hood and Little John,

_Down a down, a down, a down_,

Went o’er yon bank of broom,

Said Robin Hood to Little John,

We have shot for many a pound :

_Hey down, a down, a down_. {336}

But I am not able to shoot one shot more,

My arrows will not flee ;

But I have a cousin lives down below,

Please god, she will bleed me.

Now Robin is to fair Kirkley gone,

As fast as he can win ;

But before he came there, as we do hear,

He was taken very ill.

And when that he came to fair Kirkley-hall,

He knock’d all at the ring,

But none was so ready as his cousin herself

For to let bold Robin in.

Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin, she said,

And drink some beer with me ?

“No, I will neither eat nor drink,

Till I am blooded by thee.”[327]

Well, I have a room, cousin Robin, she said,

Which you did never see,

And if you please to walk therein,

You blooded by me shall be.[328]

She took him by the lilly-white hand,

And led him to a private room,

And there she blooded bold Robin Hood,

Whilst one drop of blood would run.

[Illustration: ROBIN HOOD AND HIS BETRAYER.]

{337}

She blooded him in the vein of the arm,

And lock’d him up in the room ;

There did he bleed all the live-long day,

Untill the next day at noon.

He then bethought him of a casement door,

Thinking for to be gone ;[329]

He was so weak he could not leap,

Nor he could not get down.

He then bethought him of his bugle-horn,

Which hung low down to his knee ;

He set his horn unto his mouth,

And blew out weak blasts three.

Then Little John, when hearing him,

As he sat under the tree,

“I fear my master is near dead,

He blows so wearily.”

Then Little John to fair Kirkley is gone,

As fast as he can dree ;

But when he came to Kirkley-hall,

He broke locks two or three ;

Untill he came bold Robin to,

Then he fell on his knee ;

A boon, a boon, cries Little John,

Master, I beg of thee. {338}

What is that boon, quoth Robin Hood,

Little John, thou begs of me ?

“It is to burn fair Kirkley-hall,

And all their nunnery.”

Now nay, now nay, quoth Robin Hood,

That boon I’ll not grant thee ;

I never ‘hurt’[330] woman in all my life,

Nor man in woman’s company.

I never hurt fair maid in all my time,

Nor at my 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 up,

There shall my grave digg’d be.

Lay me a green sod under my head,

And another at my feet ;[331]

And lay my bent bow by 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,

With a green sod under my head ;[332] {339}

That they may say, when I am dead,

Here lies bold Robin Hood.

These words they readily promis’d him,

Which did bold Robin please :

And there they buried bold Robin Hood,

Near to the fair Kirkleys.

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES TO “PART THE SECOND”, pp. 148–339

[281] Clowdel le. For an account of these worthies the reader may

consult their old metrical legend in Percy’s “Reliques,” vol. i.,

or “Ancient Popular Poetry,” 1791.

[282] A beseem’d.

[283] Has.

[284] A.

[285] Lease.

[286] Choose.

[287] For an account of Tutbury bull-running, and the character of

king of the minstrels there, see Dr. Plott’s “Natural History of

Staffordshire,” chap. x. § 69; Sir J. Hawkins’s “History of Music,”

vol. ii. p. 64; and Blount’s “Ancient Tenures,” by Beckwith, p.

303, 8vo edit.

[288] See this old and popular ballad in the Appendix.

[289] Robin Hood.

[290] Robin Hood.

[291] The editor thinks it his duty to retain, in some instances,

even the manifest corruptions of the old copies; in hopes that

earlier and better authorities may one day enable him to remove

them.

[292] In the bowers.

[293] Did him.

[294] Made then.

[295] Nicke.

[296] Soon from.

[297] Chiefest.

[298] Full froe.

[299] This (from an old black letter copy in Major Pearson’s

collection) is evidently the genuine second part of the present

ballad, although constantly printed as an independent article,

under the title of “Robin Hood, Will Scadlock, and Little

John: Or, a narrative of their victories obtained against the

prince of Aragon and the two giants; and how Will Scadlock

married the princess. Tune of Robin Hood; or, Hey down, down, a

down:” Instead of which, in all former editions, are given the

following incoherent stanzas, which have all the appearance of

being the fragment of a quite different ballad:—

Then bold Robin Hood to the north he would go,

With valour and mickle might,

With sword by his side, which oft had been tri’d,

To fight and recover his right.

The first that he met was a bonny bold Scot,

His servant he said he would be.

No, quoth Robin Hood, it cannot be good,

For thou wilt prove false unto me ;

Thou hast not been true to sire nor cuz.

Nay, marry, the Scot he said,

As true as your heart, Ile never part,

Gude master, be not afraid.

Then Robin turned his face to the east,

Fight on, my merry men stout :

Our cause is good, quod brave Robin Hood,

And we shall not be beaten out.

The battel grows hot on every side,

The Scotchman made great moan ;

Quoth Jockey, Gude faith, they fight on each side,

Would I were with my wife Joan !

The enemy compast brave Robin about,

’Tis long ere the battel ends ;

Ther’s neither will yield, nor give up the field,

For both are supplied with friends.

This song it was made in Robin Hoods dayes :

Let’s pray unto Jove above,

To give us true peace, that mischief may cease,

And war may give place unto love.

[300] Of a.

[301] Forth.

[302] Acaron. This termagant prince seems intended for a sort of

Mahometan Pagan. Alcaron is a deity formed by metathesis from

Alcoran, a book: a conversion much more ancient than the present

ballad. Thus in the old metrical romance of “The Sowdon of

Babyloyne,” a MS. in the possession of Dr. Farmer:

“Whan Laban herde of this myschief,

A sory man was he,

He trumped his men to relefe,

For to cease that tyme mente he.

Mersadage kinge of Barbarye

He did carye to his tente,

And beryed him by right of Sarsenye,

With brennynge fire riche oynemente ;

And songe the _dirige_ of ALKARON,

_That bibill is of here laye_ ;

And wayled his deth everychon,

Seven nyghtis and seven dayes.”

Here Alkaron is expressly the name of a BOOK (_i.e._ the Koran or

Alcoran); in the following passage it is that of a GOD:

“Now shall ye here of Laban :

Whan tidynges to him were comen,

Tho was he a fulle sory man,

Whan he herde howe his vitaile were nomen,

And howe his men were slayne,

And Gye was go safe hem froo ;

He defyed _Mahounde_, and _Apolyne_,

_Jubiter_, _Astarol_, and ALCARON also.”

Wynken de Worde printed “A lytell treatyse of the Turkes law called

Alcaron, &c.” See Herbert, 224.

If, however, Acaron be the true reading, we shall find an idol of

that name in the Bible, 2 Regum i. 16, ed. Vulgate.

It was, at the same time, a proper name in the East: as “Accaron

princeps insulæ Cypri” is mentioned by Roger de Hoveden, 786.

[303] We should probably read frantick baboon!

[304] Ground near Moorfields, London, famous in old times for the

archery practised there. “In the year 1498,” says Stow, “all the

gardens which had continued time out of minde, without Mooregate,

to wit, about and beyond the lordship of Fensberry, were destroyed.

And of them was made a plaine field for archers to shoote in.”

Survay of London, 1598, p. 351. See also p. 77, where it is

observed that “about the feast of S. Bartlemew . . . the officers

of the city . . . were challengers of all men in the suburbes,

. . . before the ‘lord’ maior, aldermen, and sheriffes, in FENSBERY

FIELDE, to shoote the standarde, broade arrow, and flight, for

games.” There is a tract intitled, “Ayme for Finsburie archers, or

an alphabetical table of the names of every marke within the same

fields, with the true distances, both by the map, and dimensuration

with the line. Published for the ease of the skilfull, and behoofe

of the yoonge beginners in the famous exercise of archerie, by J.

J. and E. B. To be sold at the signe of the Swan in Grub-street, by

F. Sergeant, 1594.” 16mo. Republished by R. F. 1604; and again by

James Partridge, 1628, 12mo.

These famous archers are mentioned by Ben Jonson (Every Man in his

Humour, act i. scene 1): “Because I dwell at Hogsden I shall keep

company with none but the archers of Finsbury.”

The practice of shooting here is alluded to by Cotton in his

Virgile Travestie (b. iv.), 1667:

“And arrows loos’d from Grub-street bow,

In FINSBURY, to him are slow;”

and continued till within the memory of persons now living.

[305] The situation of this chase cannot be ascertained. There is

an ancient family seat in Westmoreland called Dalham-tower.

[306] Either the bishop was a very bad reckoner, or there is some

mistake in the copy: three hundred nobles are exactly a hundred

pounds. The common editions read ninety-nine angels, which would be

no more than £49, 10s. No such coin or denomination, however, as

either angel or noble existed in Robin Hood’s time.

[307] I see.

[308] Then did.

[309] He . . was.

[310] Robin Hood.

[311] To.

[312] Robin Hood.

[313] See before, p. 235.

[314] Doubtless.

[315] When I came here.

[316] Doth . . . arrow gain.

[317] Robin Hood.

[318] Robin Hood.

[319] He had.

[320] Robin Hood.

[321] That could not.

[322] Is.

[323] Down a.

[324]

Oh save, oh save, oh sheriff he said,

Oh save and you may see.

[325] Me.

[326] Wandring.

[327] Till I blood letted be.

[328] You blood shall letted be.

[329] Get down.

[330] Burnt. This stanza is omitted in one edition.

[331]

With verdant sods most neatly put,

Sweet as the green wood tree.

[332] This line is manifestly impertinent and corrupt. We might

read:

With a stone upon the sod.

{341}

[Illustration]

APPENDIX.

THE PLAYE OF ROBYN HODE

is printed by Copland at the end of his edition of the “Mery

Geste,” &c., inserted in the present volume. It seems to be

composed, certainly with little improvement, partly from the

ballad of “Robin Hood and the Curtall Frier” (see before, p. 209),

or rather, perhaps, some still older piece on the same subject,

and partly from the ancient poem of “Robin Hood and the Potter”

(see p. 81). The whole title runs—“Here beginnethe the playe of

Robyn Hoode, very proper to be played in Maye games.” It has here

received a few corrections from White’s edition, 1634.

ROBYN HODE.

Now stand ye forth, my mery men all,

And harke what I shall say ;

Of an adventure I shal you tell,

The which befell this other day. {342}

As I went by the hygh way,

With a stout frere I met,

And a quarter-staffe in his hande,

Lyghtely to me he lept,

And styll he bade me stande ;

There were strypes two or three,

But I cannot tell who had the worse,

But well I wote the horeson lept within me,

And fro me he toke my purse.

Is there any of my mery men all,

That to that frere wyll go,

And bryng him to me forth withall,

Whether he wyll or no ?

LYTELL JOHN.

Yes, mayster, I make god avowe,

To that frere wyll I go,

And bring him to you,

Whether he wyl or no.

FRYER TUCKE.

_Deus hic, deus hic_, god be here !

Is not this a holy worde for a frere ?

God save all this company !

But am not I a jolly fryer ?

For I can shote both farre and nere,

And handle the sworde and bucklèr,

And this quarter-staffe also.

If I mete with a gentylman or yemàn, {343}

I am not afrayde to loke hym upon,

Nor boldly with him to carpe ;

If he speake any wordes to me,

He shall have strypes two or thre,

That shal make his body smarte.

But, maisters,[333] to shew you the matter,

Wherefore and why I am come hither,

In fayth I wyl not spare :

I am come to seke a good yeman,

In Bernisdale men sai is his habitacion,

His name is Robyn Hode.

And if that he be better man than I,

His servaunt wyll I be, and serve him truely ;

But if that I be better man than he,

By my truth my knave shall he be,

And leade these dogges all three.

ROBYN HODE.

Yelde the, fryer, in thy long cote.

FRYER TUCKE.

I beshrew thy hart, knave, thou hurtest my throt.

ROBYN HODE.

I trowe, fryer, thou beginnest to dote ;

Who made the so malapert and so bolde,

To come into this forest here,

Amonge my falowe dere ? {344}

FRYER.

Go louse the, ragged knave,

If thou make mani wordes, I will geve the on the eare,

Though I be but a poore fryer.

To seke Robyn Hode I am com here,

And to him my hart to breke.

ROBYN HODE.

Thou lousy frer, what wouldest thou with hym ?

He never loved fryer, nor none of freiers kyn.

FRYER.

Avaunt, ye ragged knave !

Or ye shall have on the skynne.

ROBYN HODE.

Of all the men in the morning thou art the worst,

To mete with the I have no lust ;

For he that meteth a frere or a fox in the morning,

To spede ill[334] that day he standeth in jeoperdy :

Therfore I had lever mete with the devil of hell,

Fryer, I tell the as I thinke,

Then mete with a fryer or a fox

In a mornyng, or I drynk.

FRYER.

Avaunt, thou ragged knave, this is but a mock,

If thou make mani words thou[335] shal have a knock. {345}

ROBYN HODE.

Harke, frere, what I say here,

Over this water thou shalt me bere,

The brydge is borne away.

FRYER.

To say naye I wyll not,

To let the of thine oth it were great pitie and sin,

But up on a fryers backe, and have even in.

ROBYN HODE.

Nay, have over.

FRYER.

Now am I, frere, within, and thou, Robin, without,

To lay the here I have no great doubt.

Now art thou, Robyn, without, and I, frere, within,

Lye ther, knave ; chose whether thou wilte sinke or swym.

ROBYN HODE.

Why, thou lowsy frere, what hast thou done ?[336]

FRYER.

Mary, set a knave over the shone.

ROBYN HODE.

Therfore thou shalt abye. {346}

FRYER.

Why, wylt thou fyght a plucke ?

ROBYN HODE.

And god send me good lucke.

FRYER.

Than have a stroke for fryer Tucke.

ROBYN HODE.

Holde thy hande, frere, and here me speke.

FRYER.

Saye on, ragged knave,

Me semeth ye begyn to swete.

ROBYN HODE.

In this forest I have a hounde,

I wyl not give him for an hundreth pound,

Geve me leve my horne to blowe,

That my hounde may knowe.

FRYER.

Blowe on, ragged knave, without any doubte,

Untyll bothe thyne eyes starte out.

Here be a sorte of ragged knaves come in,

Clothed all in Kendale grene,

And to the they take their way nowe. {347}

ROBYN HODE.

Peradventure they do so.

FRYER.

I gave the leve to blowe at thy wyll,

Now give me leve to whistell my fyll.

ROBYN HODE.

Whystell, frere, evyll mote thou fare,

Untyll bothe thyne eyes stare.[337]

FRYER.

Now Cut and Bause !

Breng forth the clubbes and staves,

And downe with those ragged knaves !

ROBYN HODE.

How sayest thou, frere, wylt thou be my man,

To do me the best servyse thou can ?

Thou shalt have both golde and fee,

And also here is a lady free,

I wyll geve her unto the,

And her chapplayn I the make,

To serve her for my sake.

FRYER.

Here is a huckle duckle, an inch above the buckle ; {348}

She is a trul of trust,[338] to serve a frier at his lust,

A prycker, a pauncer, a terer of shetes,[339]

A wagger of buttockes[340] when other men slepes.

Go home, ye knaves, and lay crabbes in the fyre,

For my lady and I wil daunce in the myre, for veri pure joye.

ROBYN HODE.

Lysten to [me], my mery men all,

And harke what I shall say ;

Of an adventure I shall you tell,

That befell this other daye.

With a proude potter I met,

And a rose garlande on his head,[341] {349}

The floures of it shone marvaylous freshe ;

This seven yere and more he hath used this waye,

Yet was he never so curteyse a potter,

As one peny passage to paye.

Is there any of my mery men all

That dare be so bolde

To make the potter paie passage,

Either silver or golde ?

LYTELL JOHN.

Not I, master, for twenty pound redy tolde,

For there is not among us al one

That dare medle with that potter man for man.

I felt his handles not long agone,

But I had lever have ben here by the,

Therefore I knowe what he is.

Mete him when ye wil, or mete him whan ye shal,

He is as propre a man as ever you medle withal. {350}

ROBYN HODE.

I will lai with the, Litel John, twenti pound so read,

If I wyth that potter mete,

I wil make him pay passage, maugre his head.

LYTELL JOHN.

I consente therto, so eate I bread,

If he pay passage maugre his head,

Twenti pound shall ye have of me for your mede.

THE POTTERS BOYE JACKE.

Out alas, that ever I sawe this daye !

For I am clene out of my waye

From Notyngham towne ;

If I hye me not the faster,

Or I come there the market[342] wel be done.

ROBYN HODE.

Let me se, are thy[343] pottes hole and sounde ?

JACKE.

Yea, meister, but they will not breake the ground.

ROBYN HODE.

I wil them breke, for the cuckold thi maisters sake ;

And if they will not breake the grounde,

Thou shalt have thre pence for a pound.[344] {351}

JACKE.

Out alas ! what have ye done ?

If my maister come, he will breke your crown.

THE POTTER.

Why, thou horeson, art thou here yet ?

Thou shouldest have bene at markèt.

JACKE.

I met with Robin Hode, a good yemàn,

He hath broken my pottes,

And called you kuckolde by your name.

THE POTTER.

Thou mayst be a gentylman, so god me save,

But thou semest a noughty knave.

Thou callest me cuckolde by my name,

And I swere by god and saynt John

Wyfe had I never none.

This cannot I denye,

But if thou be a good felowe,

I wil sel mi horse, mi harneis, pottes and paniers to,

Thou shalt have the one halfe and I will have the other ;

If thou be not so content,

Thou shalt have stripes if thou were my brother.

ROBYN HODE.

Harke, potter, what I shall say :

This seven yere and more thou hast used this way, {352}

Yet were thou never so curteous to me,

As one penny passage to paye.

THE POTTER.

Why should I paye passage to thee ?

ROBYN HODE.

For I am Robyn Hode, chiefe governoure

Under the grene woode tree.

THE POTTER.

This seven yere have I used this way up and downe,

Yet payed I passage to no man,

Nor now I wyl not beginne, so do[345] the worst you can.

ROBYN HODE.

Passage shalt thou pai here under the grene-wode tre,

Or els thou shalt leve a wedde[346] with me.

THE POTTER.

If thou be a good felowe, as men do the call,

Lay awaye thy bowe,

And take thy sword and buckeler in thy hande,

And se what shall befall.

ROBYN HODE.

Lyttle John, where art thou ?

LYTELL [JOHN].

Here, mayster, I make god avowe. {353}

I tolde you, mayster, so god me save,

That you shoulde fynde the[347] potter a knave.

Holde your buckeler fast in your hande,

And I wyll styfly by you stande,

Ready for to fyghte ;

Be the knave never so stoute,

I shall rappe him on the snoute,

And put hym to flyghte.

II.

A FREEMAN’S SONG,

FOR THREE VOICES.

This strange and whimsical performance is taken from a very rare

and curious publication, intitled “Deuteromelia: or the second part

of musicks melodie, or melodius musicke. Of pleasant roundelaies;

K. H. mirth, or freemens songs. And such delightfull catches.

London: printed for Thomas Adams dwelling in Paules church-yard

at the signe of the white lion, 1609.” 4to. Freemen’s songs is

supposed to be a corruption of Three men’s songs, from their being

generally for three voices. K. H. is King Henry’s. See “Ancient

Songs,” ed. 1829, vol. i. p. lxxix., and vol. ii. p. 54, &c.

In the collection of old printed ballads made by Anthony a Wood is

an inaccurate copy of this ancient and singular production, in his

own handwriting: “This song,” says he, “was esteemed an old song

before the rebellion broke out in 1641.” It thereby appears that

the first line of every stanza was “to be sung thrice.” Beside the

music here given, there are three parts of “Another way,” which it

was not thought necessary to insert. {354}

[Music: TREBLE.

By Lands-dale hey ho, by mery Lands-dale there dwelt a jolly

miller, And a very good old man was hee, was he, hey ho He had, he

had and a sonne a, He had, he had and a sonne.]

[Music: TENOR.

By Lands-dale hey ho, by mery Lands dale hey ho was he hey ho. He

had, he had and a sonne a]

{355}

[Music: BASSUS.

By Lands-dale hey ho, by mery Lands-dale, hey ho, There dwelt a

jolly miller, and a very good old man was he, hey ho, He had, he

had and a sonne a, he had he had, he had]

He had, he had and a sonne a,

Men called him Renold,

And mickle of his might

Was he, was he, hey ho.

And from his father a wode a,

His fortune for to seeke,

From mery Landsdale

Wode he, wode he, hey ho. {356}

His father would him seeke a,

And found him fast asleepe.

Among the leaves greene

Was he, was he, hey ho.

He tooke, he tooke him up a,

All by the lilly-white hand,

And set him on his feet,

And bad him stand, hey ho.

He gave to him a benbow,

Made all of a trusty tree,

And arrowes in his hand,

And bad him let them flee.

And shoote was that that a did a,

Some say he shot a mile,

But halfe a mile and more

Was it, was it, hey ho.

And at the halfe miles end [a],

There stood an armed man ;

The childe he shot him through,

And through, and through, hey ‘ho.’

His beard was all on a white a,

As white as whaleis bone,

His eyes they were as cleare

As christall stone, hey ho. {357}

And there of him they made [a]

Good yeoman Robin Hood,

Scarlet, and Little John,

And Little John, hey ho.

III.

A ROUND

from “Pammelia. Musicks miscellanie. Or, mixed varietie of pleasant

roundelayes, and delightfull catches, of 3. 4 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

parts in one. None so ordinarie as musicall, none so musical as

not to all very pleasing and acceptable. London Printed by William

Barley, for R. B. and H. W. and are to be sold at the Spread Eagle

at the great north dore of Paules, 1609,” 4to, a work equally

scarce and curious with that before cited. This, however, is only

the tenor part; but the words of the other parts are very trifling,

and relate to different subjects. It is called “A round of three

country-dances in one.”

[Music:

Robin Hood, Robin Hood, said Little John, Come dance before the

queene a: In a red petticote and a greene jacket, a white hose and

a greene a.] {358}

IV.

HEY JOLLY ROBIN.

These stanzas are supplied by “A musicall dreame, or the fourth

booke of ayres, &c. Composed by Robert Iones. London, Imprinted

by the assignees of William Barley, and are to be solde in Powles

church-yeard, at the signe of the Crowne, 1609,” fo. The music, a

composition of little merit or curiosity for the present age, was

not transcribed.

In Sherwood livde stout Robin Hood,

An archer great, none greater :

His bow and shafts were sure and good,

Yet Cupids were much beter.

Robin could shoot at many a hart and misse,

Cupid at first could hit a hart of his.

Hey jolly Robin, hoe jolly Robin, hey jolly Robin

Hood,

Love finds out me, as well as thee, to follow me,

to follow me to the green wood.

A noble thiefe was Robin Hoode,

Wise was he could deceive him ;

Yet Marrian, in his bravest mood,

Could of his heart bereave him.

No greater thief lies hidden under skies

Then beauty closely lodgde in womens eyes.

Hey jolly Robin. {359}

An out-law was this Robin Hood,

His life free and unruly ;

Yet to faire Marrian bound he stood,

And loves debt payed her duely.

Whom curbe of stricktest law could not hold in

Love with obeyednes and a winke could winne.

Hey jolly Robin.

Now wend we home, stout Robin Hood,

Leave we the woods behind us ;

Love-passions must not be withstood,

Love every where will find us.

I livde in fielde and towne, and so did he,

I got me to the woods, Love followed me.

Hey jolly Robin.

A MERRY WEDDING;

OR,

O BRAVE ARTHUR OF BRADLEY.

This old ballad, referred to in p. 158 of the present volume, is

given from a black letter copy in a private collection, compared

with and very much corrected by “An antidote against melancholy:

made up in pills, compounded of witty ballads, jovial songs, and

merry catches, 1661.” The running title of the volume is “Pills to

purge melancholy,” which was afterward borrowed by Durfey. {360}

There is a different, but probably much more modern, ballad upon

this popular subject, in the same measure, intitled “Arthur o’

Bradley,” and beginning,

“All in the merry month of May.”

In Jonson’s “Bartholomew Fair,” Moon-calf addresses Justice Overdo

by this name: “O lord! do you not know him, mistress? ’tis mad

Arthur of Bradley that makes the orations. Brave master, old Arthur

of Bradley, how do you do? welcome to the fair, when shall we hear

you again to handle your matters with your back against a booth,

ha? I ha’ been one o’ your little disciples, i’ my days!”

In “The Honest Whore,” by Decker, 1604, Bellafront, on the Duke’s

assurance that Matthio shall make her amends and marry her,

replies, “Shall he? O brave Arthur of Bradley then!”

See you not Pierce the piper,

His cheeks as big as a miter,

A piping among the swains,

That dance on yonder plains ?

Where Tib and Tom do trip it,

And youths to the hornpipe nip it,

With every one his carriage,

To go to yonder marriage ;

Not one would stay behind,

But go with Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine Arthur of Bradley, oh, &c.

Arthur had got him a lass,

A bonnier never was ; {361}

The chief youths of the parish

Came dancing of the morris ;

With country lasses trounsing,

And lusty lads bounsing,

Jumping with mickle pride,

And each his wench by his side ;

They all were fine and gay,

For the honour of Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine Arthur of Bradley, oh, &c.

And when that Arthur was married,

And his bride home had carried,

The youngsters they did wait

To help to carry up meat ;

Francis carried the furmety,

Michael carried the mince-pye,

Bartholomew the beef and the mustard,

And Christopher carried the custard ;

Thus every one in his array,

For the honour of Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine Arthur of Bradley, oh, &c.

And when that dinner was ended,

The maidens they were befriended,

For out steps Dick the draper,

And he bid, Strike up, scraper !

It’s best to be dancing a little,

And then to the tavern to tipple :

He call’d for a hornpipe, {362}

That went fine on the bagpipe ;

Then forward, piper, and play,

For the honour of Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine, &c.

Richard he did lead it,

And Margery did tread it,

Francis followed them,

And after courteous Jane ;

Thus every one after another,

As if they had been sister and brother ;

That ’twas great joy to see

How well they did agree ;

And then they all did say,

Hay for Arthur of Bradley !

Oh fine Arthur of Bradley, oh, &c.

Then Miles in his motley breeches,

And he the piper beseeches

To play him _Haw-thorn buds_,

That he and his wench might trudge :

But Lawrence liked not that,

No more did lusty Kate ;

For she cry’d, Can’st thou not hit it,

To see how fine Thomas can trip it,

For the honour of Arthur of Bradley, &c.

When all the swains did see

This mirth and merry glee,

There was never a man did flinch, {363}

But each one kist his wench ;

But Giles was greedy of gain,

For he would needs kiss twain :

Her lover seeing that,

Did rap him over the pate,

That he had nought to say,

For the honour of Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine Arthur of Bradley, oh, &c.

The piper lookt aside,

And there he spied the bride,

He thought it was a hard chance,

That none would lead her a dance ;

But there was none durst touch her,

Save only Bat the Butcher ;

He took her by the hand,

And danced while he could stand :

The bride was fine and gay,

For the honour of Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine Arthur of Bradley, oh, &c.

Then out stept Will the weaver,

And he swore he’d not leave her,

He hopp’d it all on one leg,

For the honour of his Peg :

But Kister in cambrick ruffe,

He took that all in snuffe ;

For he against that day

Had made himself fine and gay,

His ruffe was whipt with blew, {364}

And he cried, A new dance, a new,

Then strike up a round-delay,

For the honour of Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine, &c.

Then gan the sun decline,

And every one thought it time

To go unto his home,

And leave the bridegroom alone.

Tut, tut, says lusty Ned,

I’le see them both in bed,

For I’le gib at a joynt,

But I’le have his codpeece-point :

Then forward piper and play,

For the honour of Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine, &c.

And thus the day was spent,

And no man homeward went,

There was such a crowding and thrusting,

That some were in danger of bursting,

To see them go to bed ;

For all the skill they had,

He was got to his bride,

And lay close to her side :

Then got they his points and his garters,

And cut them in pieces like martyrs ;

And then they all did play

For the honour of Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine, &c. {365}

Then Will and his sweetheart

Did call for _Loth to depart_ ;

And then they did foot it, and toss it,

Till the cook brought in the sack-posset.

The bride-pye was brought forth,

A thing of mickle worth :

And so all at the beds side

Took leave of Arthur and his bride,

And so went all away

From the wedding of Arthur of Bradley,

Oh fine, &c.

VI.

ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THE THREE SQUIRES FROM NOTTINGHAM GALLOWS.

This song and its tune, as the editor is informed by his ingenious

friend Edward Williams, the Welsh bard, are well known in South

Wales by the name of “Marchog glas,” _i.e._ Green knight. Though

apparently ancient, it is not known to exist in black letter, nor

has any better authority been met with than the common collection

of Aldermary-church-yard. See before, p. 303.

Bold Robin Hood ranging the forrest all round,

The forrest all round ranged he ;

O there did he meet with a gay lady,

She came weeping along the highway. {366}

Why weep you, why weep you ? bold Robin he said,

What weep you for gold or fee ?

Or do you weep for your maidenhead,

That is taken from your body ?

I weep not for gold, the lady reply’d,

Neither do I weep for fee ;

Nor do I weep for my maidenhead,

That is taken from my body.

What weep you for then ? said jolly Robin,

I prithee come tell unto me.

“Oh ? I do weep for my three sons,

For they are all condemned to die.”

What church have they robbed ? said jolly Robìn,

Or parish-priest have they slain ?

What maids have they forced against their will ?

Or with other mens wives have lain ?

No church have they robbed, this lady reply’d,

Nor parish-priest have they slain ;

No maids have they forced against their will,

Nor with other mens wives have lain.

What have they done then ? said jolly Robìn,

Come tell me most speedily.

“Oh ! it is for killing the king’s fallow deer,

‘That’[348] they are all condemned to die.” {367}

Get you home, get you home, said jolly Robìn,

Get you home most speedily,

And I will unto fair Nottingham go,

For the sake of the ’squires all three.

Then bold Robin Hood for Nottingham goes,

For Nottingham town goes he,

O there did he meet with a poor beggar-man,

He came creeping along the highway.

“What news, what news, thou old beggar-man ?

What news, come tell unto me.”

“O there’s weeping and wailing in Nottingham [town],

For the death of the ’squires all three.”

This beggar-man had a coat on his back,

’Twas neither green, yellow, nor red ;

Bold Robin Hood thought ’twas no disgrace

To be in the beggar-mans stead.

“Come, pull off thy coat, thou old beggar-man,

And thou shalt put on mine ;

And forty good shillings I’ll give thee to boot,

Besides brandy, good beer, ale and wine.”

Bold Robin Hood then unto Nottingham came,

Unto Nottingham town came he ;

O there did he meet with great master sheriff,

And likewise the ’squires all three. {368}

One boon, one boon, says jolly Robìn,

One boon I beg on my knee ;

That, as for the death of these three ’squires,

Their hangman I may be.

Soon granted, soon granted, says master sherìff,

Soon granted unto thee ;

And ‘thou shalt’[349] have all their gay cloathìng,

Aye, and all their white monèy.

“O I will have none of their gay cloathìng,

Nor none of their white monèy,

But I’ll have three blasts on my bugle-horn,

That their souls to heaven may flee.”

‘Then’[350] Robin Hood mounted the gallows so high,

Where he blew loud and shrill,

Till a hundred and ten of Robin Hoods men

Came marching down the green hill.

Whose men are these ? says master sherìff,

Whose men are they ? tell unto me.[351]

“O they are mine, but none of thine,

And are come for the ’squires all three.”

O take them, O take them, says great master sheriff,

O take them along with thee ;

For there’s never a man in fair Nottinghàm

Can do the like of thee.

{369}

VII.

ROBIN HOOD’S DELIGHT.

Dr. Pepusch, among other very curious articles of ancient English

music, was possessed of a MS. folio (supposed to be still extant),

which at p. 15 contained a tune intitled “Robin Hood.” See

Ward’s “Lives of the Professors of Gresham College,” 1740 (an

interleaved copy, corrected and augmented by the author, in the

British Museum). “Robene Hude” is likewise the name of a dance

in Wedderburn’s “Complainte of Scotland,” printed in 1549. The

following tune is preserved by Oswald in his “Caledonian Pocket

Companion.”

[Music]

{370}

VIII.

ROBIN HOOD AND THE MONK.

This singularly curious and excellent poem, which is probably the

earliest extant on the subject, was first printed in the “Ancient

Metrical Tales,” edited by the Rev. C. H. Hartshorne (8vo, 1829),

from a MS. in the library of University College, Cambridge (F.

F. 5. 48), with which it has been since obligingly collated by

Frederic Madden, Esq. A few lines are unfortunately rendered

illegible by damp.

In somer when the shawes be sheyne,

And leves be large and longe,

Hit is fulle mery in feyre foreste

To here the foulys song.

To se the dere draw to the dale,

And leve the hilles hee,

And shadow hem in the leves grene

Vndur the grene wode tre.

Hit befel on whitsontide,

Erly in a may mornyng,

The son vp fayre can shyne,

And the briddis mery can syng.

This is a mery mornyng, seid litulle Johne,

Be hym that dyed on tre,

A more mery man than I am one

Lyves not in cristianté. {371}

Pluk vp thi hert my dere mayster,

Litulle Johne can sey,

And thynk hit is a fulle fayre tyme

In a mornynge of may.

Ze on thynge greves me seid Robyne,

And does my hert myche woo,

That I may not so solem day

To mas nor matyns goo.

Hit is a fourtnet and more, seyd hee,

Syn I my sauyour see ;

To day wil I to Notyngham, seid Robyn,

With the myght of mylde Mary.

Then spake Moche the mylner[s] sune,

Euer more wel hym betyde,

Take xii of thi wyght zemen

Welle weppynd be ther side.

Such on wolde thi selfe slon

That xii dar not abyde,

Off alle my mery men, seid Robyne,

Be my feithe I wil non haue.

But litulle Johne shalle beyre my bow

Til that me list to drawe

. . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . {372}

Thou shalle beyre ‘thin own’[352] seid litulle Jon,

Maister & I wil beyre myne,

And we wille shete a peny, seid litulle Jon,

Vnder the grene wode lyne.

I wil not shete a peny, seyde Robyn Hode,

In feith litulle Johne with thee,

But euer for on as thou shetes, seid Robyn,

In feith I hold 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.

A ferly strife fel them betwene

As they went bi the way ;

Litulle Johne seid he had won v shyllyngs,

And Robyn Hode seid schortly nay.

With that Robyn Hode lyed litul Jone,

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,

Get the a man where thou wilt, Robyn,

For thou getes me no more. {373}

Then Robyn goes to Notyngham

Hymselfe mornynge allone,

And litulle Johne to mery Scherewode,

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.

He gos into seynt Mary[s] chirche,

And knelyd downe before the rode,

Alle that euer were the churche within

Beheld wel Robyne Hode.

Besyde hym stode a gret hedid munke,

I pray to god woo he be,

Ful sone he knew gode Robyn [Hode]

As sone as he hym se.

Out at the durre he ran

Ful son and anon,

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,

For sothe he is in this towne. {374}

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.

This traytur[s] name is Robyn Hode,

Vndur the grene wode lynde,

He robbyt me onys of a C pound,

Hit shalle neuer out of my mynde.

Vp then rose this prowd schereff,

And zade towarde hym zare ;

Many was the modur son

To the kyrk with hym can fare.

In at the durres thei throly thrast

With staves ful gode ‘ilkone’[353]

Alas, alas, seid Robyn 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

Thidurward wold he.

Thryes thorow at them he ran,

Ther for sothe as I yow say,

And woundyt many a modur sone,

And xii he slew that day. {375}

His sworde vpon the schireff hed

Sertanly he brake in too ;

The smyth that the made, seid Robyn,

I pray god[354] wyrke hym woo.

For now am I weppynlesse, seid Robyne,

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 euer ilkon,

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 rule, seid litulle Jon,

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

Pluk up your hertes and leve this mone,

And herkyn what I shal say. {376}

He has seruyd our lady many a day,

And zet wil securly,

Therfore I trust in her specialy

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.

And I mete hym, seid litull Johne,

We wille go but we too

. . . . . . . . . . .

Loke that ze kepe wel oure tristil tre

Vndur the levys smale,

And spare non of his venyson

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.

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. {377}

Be my feith, seid litul Johne to Moche,

I can the tel tithyngus gode ;

I see 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,

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]

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.

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,

And we wil when we may,

We wil go with yow with your leve,

And brynge yow on your way. {378}

For Robyn Hode hase many a wilde felow,

I telle yow in certen,

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

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.

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 John was ‘sore’[355] agrevyd,

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 base browzt in bale,

Shalle thou neuer cum at oure kynge

For to telle hym tale. {379}

Johne smote of the munkes hed,

No longer wolde he dwelle,

So did Moche, the litulle page,

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 kynge.

. . . . . . . . . . .

He kneled down vpon kis kne,

God zow saue, my lege lorde,

Jesus yow saue and se.

God yow saue, my lege kyng,

To speke Johne was fulle bolde ;

He gaf hym the letturs in his hond,

The kynge did hit unfold.

The kynge red the letturs anon,

And seid so mot I the,

Ther was neuer zoman in mery Inglond

I longut so sore to see.

Wher is the munke that these shuld haue browzt,

Oure kynge can say,

Be my trouthe, seid litulle Jone,

He dyed aftur the way. {380}

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,

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 ;

The next way to Notyngham

To take he zede the way.

Whan Johne came to Notyngham

The zatis were sparred ychone,

Johne callid vp the porter,

He answerid sone anon.

What is the cause, seid litul John,

Thou sparris the zates so fast ?

Because Robyn Hode,[356] seid [the] porter,

In depe prison is cast.

Johne, and Moche, and Wylle Scathlok,

For sothe as I yow say,

Thir slew oure men vpon oure wallis,

And sawtene vs euery day. {381}

Litulle Johne spyrred aftur the schereff,

And sone he hym fonde,

He oppyned the kyngus priue seelle

And gaf hym in his honde.

When the schereff saw the kyngus seelle

He did of his hode anon,

Wher is the munke that bare the letturs ?

He seid to litulle Johne.

He is so fayn of him, seid litulle Johne,

For sothe as I yow sey ;

He has made hym abot of Westmynster,

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.

When the scheref was on-slepe

Dronken of wine and ale,

Litul Johne and Moche for sothe

Toke the way vnto the gale ;

Litul Johne callid vp the jayler,

And bade hym rise anon ;

He seid Robyn Hode had brokyn preson,

And out of hit was gon. {382}

The portere rose anon sertan,

As sone as he herd John calle ;

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,

And sone he hym vnbonde.

He gaf hym a gode swerd in his hond,

His hed [ther-]with for to kepe,

And ther as the walle was lowyst

Anon downe can thei lepe.

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],

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 ;

For if I do I wot serten,

For sothe he wil me henge. {383}

The scheref made to seke Notyngham,

Bothe be strete and stye,

And Robyn was in mery Scherwode

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’[357] whan thou may.

I haue done the a gode turne, said litulle Johne,

For sothe as I you saie,

I haue brouzt the vndur [the] grene wode lyne,

Fare wel, and haue gode day.

Nay be my trouthe, seid Robyn Hode,

So shalle hit neuer be,

I make the maister, seid Robyne Hode,

Off alle my men and me.

Nay be my trouthe, seid litulle Johne,

So shall hit neuer be,

But lat me be a felow, seid litulle Johne,

No nodur kepe I’ll be.

Thus Johne gate Robyn Hode out of prisone

Sertan withoutyn layne,

When his men saw hym hol and sounde

For sothe they were ful fayne. {384}

They filled in wyne, and made him glad

Vndur the levys smale,

And zete pastes of venysone

That gode was ‘withal.’[358]

Than worde came to our kynge,

How Robyn Hode was gone,

And how the scheref of Notyngham

Durst neuer loke hyme vpone.

Then bespake oure cumly kynge,

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,

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,

Thorowout alle mery Inglond.

I gaf hem grithe, then seid oure kyng,

I say, so mot I the,

For sothe soche a zeman as he is on

In alle Ingland ar not thre. {385}

He is trew to his maister, seid 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,

Bothe in strete and stalle,

Speke no ‘more’[359] of this matter, seid our kynge,

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.

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES TO “APPENDIX”, pp. 341–385

[333] Maister. C.

[334] Ell. C.

[335] You. you. C.

[336] Donee. C.

[337] Starte. C.

[338] A trul of trust was a common phrase. So in the ancient

morality of the iiii elements (Sig. E iij 6):

“For to satisfye your wanton lust

I shall apoynt you a trull of trust,

Not a feyrer in this towne.”

Again, in Warner’s Albion’s England, 1602:

“How cheere you Pan, quoth Pryapus, the shameles god of lust,

Thus can i fit such friends as you with such a trull of trust.”

[339] Shefes. C.

[340] Ballockes. C.

[341] How a potter comes to be decked with so elegant and

honourable a chaplet, does not seem easy to account for; unless for

the reason given by Chaucer, that

—“soche araie costnith but lite.”

The poet Gower, as represented on his monument in the church of St.

Mary-Overy, hath, according to Stow, “on his head a chaplet, like

a coronet of foure roses;” and it may be remembered that Copland,

the printer of this identical May-game, dwelled “at the signe of

the rose garlande.” We see, likewise, that “a rose garlonde” was

set up (to be shot through, it is presumed) in the “Lytell Geste of

Robyn Hode,” fytte 7, v. 177. Though the fashion of wearing such

an ornament was formerly common in France (for which see Chaucer’s

“Romaunt of the Rose,” a close translation from the French), and

at a still later period in Germany, see “The Hystorye of Reynarde

the Foxe,” a translation from the language of that country, and

Moryson’s Itinerary, 1617 (part 1, p. 25, and part 3, p. 167),

no further instance has been met with of its prevalence in this

country.

[342] Maryet. C.

[343] The. C.

[344] Not omitted in W.

[345] To do. C. to or so omitted in W.

[346] Wedded. C. wed. W.

[347] Your. C.

[348] And.

[349] You shall.

[350] When.

[351] Come tell.

[352] Th’ now. MS.

[353] Wone. MS.

[354] I pray _to_. MS.

[355] So. MS.

[356] Because of Robyn Hode. MS.

[357] The. MS.

[358] That gode was _with ale_. MS.

[359] Mere. MS.

{387}

[Illustration]

GLOSSARY.

_Abye_, [to suffer].

_Air_, early.

_Alderbest_, best of all. This phrase, which occurs in Chaucer, is

corrupted in De Worde’s edition to “_al ther_” and “_al theyre_,”

which Coplande has changed to “_al of the_;” whence it may be

inferred that the expression was become already obsolete, and

consequently that the poem is of much greater antiquity than 1520:

and yet Shakespeare, above half a century after, puts the word

_Alderliefest_ into the mouth of Queen Margaret in his _Second Part

of Henry the Sixth_.

_Angels_, pieces of gold coin, value 10s.

_Anker_, hermit, anchorite.

_Ar_, ere.

_Asay_, _Asayed_, essayed, tried, proved.

_A-sound_, in a swoon.

_Aunsetters_, ancestors.

_Avow_, _Avowe_, protestation, confession. “_I make myn avow to

God_,” profess to God: from _aveu_, F.

_Avowe_, maintain, _verbum juris_.

_Avowè_, founder, patron, protector. See Spelman’s _Glossary_, _v._

ADVOCATUS.

_Awayte_, _Awatye me scathe_, lie in wait to do me harm.

_Awayted_, lay in wait for.

_Awet_, wit, know.

_Awkwarde_, backward. _An awkwarde stroke_ seems to mean an unusual

or out of the way stroke, one which the receiver could not foresee,

be aware of, or guard against; a sort of left or back hand stroke.

“_An_ auke _stroke_” is a frequent expression in _La Mort d’Arthur_.

_Ayenst_, against.

_Baist_, _Baste_, basted, belaboured.

_Baith_, both.

_Bale_, mischief, woe, sorrow, misery.

_Ballup_, p. 306.

_Banis_, bane, destruction.

_Bear_, moan, lamentation, outcry.

_Bearing_, arrow.

_Bedene_, behind, one after another? {388}

_Bedyng_, asking. _Your bedyng shall be doyn_, your invitation

shall be complied with.

_Beforen_, before.

_Begeck_, _Give them a begeck_, play them a trick, make fools of

them.

_Behote_, promised.

_Benbow_, [a bent bow?].

_Bent_, ii. 84.

_Bescro_, beshrew.

_Bestad_, _Ferre and friend bestad_, far from home and without a

friend. The passage, however, seems corrupt. Perhaps, indeed, it

should be _fren_ (_frend_ or _fremd_) _bestad_, _i.e._ beset or

surrounded by strangers. (Fremd, Saxon.) Thus, in Spenser’s 4th

eclogue:

“So now his friend is changed for a _fren_.”

Again, in Florio’s _Worlde of Wordes_, 1598: “_Alieno_, an alien, a

stranger, a forraine, a _freme_.”

_Bestead_, beset, put to it.

_Beth_, are, be.

_Blate_, sheepish or foolish, as we should now say.

_Blive_, belive, immediately.

_Bloschems_, blossoms.

_Bluter_, p. 105.

_Blyve_, fast, quickly, briskly.

_Bocking_, pouring, flowing.

_Bode_, bidden, invited.

_Bolt_, _Bolte_, _Boltes_, _Boltys_. A bolt was an arrow of a

particular kind, used chiefly for shooting at birds; having a

round or blunt head. Much’s object, it has been observed, was not

to wound, but stun, the monk, and the bolt from its shape was

peculiarly adapted to this purpose. In other passages, however, it

seems to mean either an arrow in general, or one used for shooting

at a mark. “I’ll make a shaft or a bolt on’t,” which Shakespeare

has put into the mouth of M. Slender, appears, from Ray’s

_Collection_, to have been a common proverb.

_Boote_, help.

_Booting_, p. 98.

_Borde_, table.

_Borowe_, _Borrow_, pledge, surety, bail.

_Borowehode_, suretyship.

_Boskyd_, busked, prepared, got ready.

_Bottle_, a small vessel, of wood or leather, in the shape of a

cask, in which shepherds and others employed abroad in the fields

carry or keep their drink.

_Bottys_, buts.

_Bou_, bow.

_Bound_, betook, went. _Boldly bound away_, briskly scampered off.

_Bowe_, bough. {389}

_Bown_, ready. _Bowne ye_, prepare ye, get ready.

_Boyt_, both.

_Breche_, breeches.

_Breyde_, started, stepped hastily.

_Breyde_, start, quick or hasty step.

_Broke_, brook, enjoy, use, keep.

_Bronde_, brand, sword.

_Bushement_, ambush.

_Buske_, _I wyll me buske_, _i.e._ go, betake myself. _Buske you_,

address or prepare yourselves, make ready.

_Bydene_, one after another.

_Can_, did.

_Carpe_, [to speak].

_Cankardly_, peevishly, with ill-temper.

_Capull hyde_, horse hide. _Capal_ or _Capul_ in Irish or Erse is a

horse or mare, as _Kephyl_ is in Welsh.

_Carel_, _Carril_, carle, old fellow.

_Caward_, awkward or backward. See _Awkwarde_.

_Cerstyn_, Christian.

_Chaffar_, chaffer, merchandise, commodity.

_Chepe_, _better chepe_, cheaper; _à meilleur marché_, F. _Gret

chepe_, very cheap; _à très bon marché_.

_Chepe_, cheapen, buy. _Chepyd_, cheapened, bought.

_Cheys_, choose.

_Chiven_, p. 219.

_Chorle_, churl, peasant, clown.

_Cla’d_, scratched.

_Clock_, cloak.

_Clouted_, patched.

_Cole_, p. 66.

_Come_, (pronounced com) came.

_Command_, warrant, authority.

_Commytted_, accounted.

_Coresed_, p. 20.

_Cortessey_, courteous. Q. _Corteysse_.

_Cote a pye_, upper garment, short cloke; _courtepy_, Chaucer. See

Tyrwhitt’s note, iv. 201.

_Coud_, knew, understood.

_Counsell_, “_And counsell shall it be_,” and it shall be kept

secret; in allusion, perhaps, to the oath of a grand juror:—“the

king’s _counsel_, your fellows, and your own you shall keep

secret.” The phrase is, however, used by Chaucer:

“Shall it be _conseil_? sayed the firste shrewe;

And I shall tellen thee in wordes fewe

What we shall don, and bring it wel aboute.”

—_Pardoneres Tale._

_Covent_, convent; whence our Covent Garden.

_Cowed_, could, knew. _Cowed of curteysey_, understood good

manners. {390}

_Crack_, boast.

_Craftely_, skilfully, _secundum artem_.

_Crouse_, brisk.

_Cun_, con, owe, give.

_Curn_, p. 101.

_Curtall_, p. 210, 211.

_Curteyse_, courteous.

_Cutters_, sharking fellows; such as live by robbery or violence;

bravos. So in the old play of _Arden of Feversham_, h. d. b. l.:

“And they are cutters, and may cut your throat.”

_Dame_, mother.

_Dead_, certain; so in the common saying, “As dead as Chelsea;”

_i.e._ as certain as a situation in that hospital.

_Demed_, judged.

_Depart_, part, separate.

_Derne_, privy, secret.

_Deyell_, devil.

_Deythe_, dight, dressed.

_Donne_, dun.

_Doyt_, doth, do.

_Dree_, hye.

_Dreyffe_, drive.

_Dub_, shallow miry pool.

_Dung_, beaten, overcome.

_Durk_, dagger.

_Dyght_, dressed, done.

_Dyghtande_, p. 69.

_Dysgrate_, disgraced, degraded. _Hath be dysgrate_, hath fallen

into poverty.

_Een_, eyes.

_Eftsones_, hereafter, afterward.

_Eild_, age.

_Elephant_, p. 263.

_Ender_, under.

_English wood._ If _Inglewood Forest_ be here intended, the Queen

is a little out in her geography: she probably means _Sherwood_,

but neither was that in the page’s way to Nottingham, and

_Barnsdale_ was still farther north. See _Ancient Popular Poetry_,

1791, p. 3.

_Ere_, before.

_Eylde_, yield.

_Eyr_, year.

_Eyre_, heir.

_Fail_, _But fail_, without fail, without doubt.

_Failyd_, wanted, missed.

_Fair_, fare, ado.

_Fare_, live.

_Farley_, fairly, plainly.

_Fay_, faith. {391}

_Fayne_, glad.

_Fe_, fee, wages.

_Feardest_, fearfulest, most frightened or afraid.

_Feders_, feathers.

_Fend_, _Fend I godys forbode_.

_Fende_, defend.

_Fered_, feared, lived.

_Ferre_, far. _Ferre dayes_, far in the day; _grand jour_, F.

_Ferre gone_, long since.

_Fette_, fetched.

_Fetteled him_, made him ready, prepared himself, set about.

_Fettled_, _Them fettled_, attempted, set about.

_Feyffe_, five.

_Finikin_, finical, fine, spruce.

_Flee_, fly.

_Flinders_, splinters.

_Fone_, foes, enemies.

_Forbode_, _Godys forbode_, ‘prohibition or curse.’ Florio, in his

Italian dictionary, 1598, renders the phrase, _Adio non piaceia_.

God forbid, _Godes forbode_. In _A Briefe Conceipte of English

Policy_, 1581, it is corrupted to “_God swarbote_.”

_Force_, care.

_Forgone_, forego, lose.

_Fors_, see _Force_.

_Forsoyt_, forsooth, truly.

_Foryete_, forgotten.

_Fostere_, forester.

_Fothe_, foot.

_Frae_, from.

_Frebore_, free-born, gentle.

_Frese_, p. 39.

_Furmety_, [_fumenty_].

_Frere_, [friar].

_Fynly_, goodly.

_Gae_, go.

_Gan_, _Gan they gone_, are they gone, did they go.

_Gang_, _Gange_, go.

_Gate_, _Gates_, ways, passes, paths, ridings. _Gate_ is a common

word in the North for way.—_P._

_Geffe_, given.

_General_, perhaps the governor, Nottingham still being a garrison

town.

_Ger_, gear, stuff, goods, property, effects.

_Gereamarsey_, see _Gramercy_.

_Gillore_, plenty.

_Glen_, valley.

_God_, good, goods, property.

_God-a-marsey_, God-a-mercy! See _Gramercy_.

_Godde_, see _God_. {392}

_Godys forbode._ See _Forbode_.

_Gorney_, journey.

_Goy_, joy.

_Graff_, _Oke graff_, oak branch or sapling.

_Gramercy_, thanks, or many thanks; _grand mercie_, F.

_Gree_, satisfaction.

_Gret_, greeted, saluted.

_Gripped_, grasped, laid hold of.

_Grome_, a common man.

_Hail_, _All hail_, wholely, entirely.

_Halds_, holds, holding-places, supports.

_Halke_, perhaps haugh, low ground by the side of a river. See the

glossary to Bishop Douglas’s _Virgil_, _v._ _Hawchis_. _Halke_ with

Chaucer signifies a corner; but seems here used in opposition to

_hill_.

_Halfendell_, half.

_Hals_, neck.

_Hambellet_, ambleth.

_Hansell._ The vendor of any wares is said to receive _hansel_ of

his first customer; but the meaning of the text, _Haffe hansell for

the mar_, is not understood, unless it can be thought to imply,

_Give me hansel_, _i.e._ buy of my pots.

_Hart of Greece_ means perhaps no more than a fat hart, for the

sake of a quibble between Greece and grease.

_Hawt_, aught, anything, something.

_Hayt_, hath.

_Held_, kept preserved.

_Hende_, gentle, courteous.

_Hent_, took, caught.

_Hepe_, hip, haw, the fruit of the white thorn. So in _Gil Morice_,

a Scotish ballad:—

“I was once AS FOW of Gill Morrice

AS THE HIP IS O’ THE STEAN.”

_Her_, their.

_Het_, it.

_Het_, eat.

_Heynd_, gentle, courteous.

_Heyt war howte_, p. 86.

_Highed_, hyed, hastened.

_Hight_, _What they hight_, what they are called.

_Holde_, keep, held, retained of council.

_Holy_, wholely.

_Holy dame_, _Our holy dame_, p. 250, the Virgin Mary (so called);

unless, for our “holy dame” we should read our halidome, which may

mean our holiness, honesty, chastity; haligoome, sanctimonia.

_Hos_, _Hus_, us.

_Hotys_, oats.

_Housband_, _Housbonde_, manager, husbandman, peasant. {393}

_How_, hill.

_Howt_, out.

_Hyght_, vowed, promised.

_Hynde_, knave.

_I_, ay.

_Ibent_, bent.

_Ibonde_, bound.

_Ichaunged_, changed.

_Idyght_, dight, dressed, prepared, made ready.

_Ifedered_, feathered.

_Ilke_, each.

_In-fere_, together.

_Inocked_, nocked, notched.

_Ipyght_, _Up ipyght_, p. 26.

_Iquyt_, acquitted, set at liberty.

_Iswore_, sworn.

_Itake_, taken.

_Japes_, tricks.

_Ken_, know.

_Kest_, cast.

_Kirtle_, upper petticoat.

_Knave_, servant, man.

_Kod_, quod, quoth, said.

_Kyrtell_, waistcoat.

_Kythe nor kin_, acquaintance nor kindred.

_Lappe_, wrap.

_Late_, lake, play, game.

_Launsgay_, a sort of lance.

_Leasynge_, lying, falsehood.

_Lede_, train, suite.

_Ledesman_, guide.

_Lee_, plain.

_Lefe_, willing. _Whether he were loth or lefe_, whether he would

or not.

_Leffe_, leave, left.

_Leffes_, leaves.

_Lende_, meet, encounter.

_Lene_, lend.

_Lere_, learn.

_Lere_, cheek.

_Lese_, lose.

_Let_, omit, hinder, hindered.

_Leugh_, laughed.

_Lever_, rather.

_Lewtè_, loyalty, faith, truth; _leauté_, F.

_Leythe_, light.

_Ligge_, lay.

_Lin_, stop, stay.

_Lithe_, attend, hear, hearken. {394}

_Loffe_, love.

_Lore_, lost.

_Lough_, _Loughe_, _Low_, laughed.

_Lowe_, “a little hill.”—_P._

_Lown_, villain, knave, base fellow.

_Lust_, desire, inclination.

_Lyght_, light; or, perhaps, for _lyte_, little.

_Lynde_, _Lyne_, the lime or linden tree; or collectively lime

trees, or trees in general.

_Lyth_, see _Lithe_.

_Lyveray_, livery, habit, delivery: the mess, portion, or quantity

of provisions delivered out at a time by the butler was called _a

livery_.

_Masars_, cups, vessels.

_Masterye_, “a trial of skill, high proof of skill.”—_P._

_Mair_, more.

_Maney_, see _Meyne_.

_May_, maid.

_Me_, _That ever yet sawe I me_, a gallicism; _que jamais j’ai vu

moi_.

_Meal_, oat-meal.

_Meal-poke_, meal-bag, bag in which oatmeal is put.

_Meat-rife._

_Mede_, _To quyte hym well his mede_, to reward him to some purpose.

_Medys_, midst, middle.

_Meede_, reward.

_Mesh_, _All to mesh_, to a mash or jelly.

_Met_, _Mete_, measured.

_Methe_, meat.

_Meyne_, attendants, retinue; _mesnie_, F.

_Meythe_, might.

_Mickle_, much, great, very.

_Mister_, need. It is _misters_ in the original.

_Mo_, more.

_Molde_, earth.

_Mot_, _Mote_, might, may.

_Mote_, meeting, assembly, court, audit.

_Mountenaunce_, amount, duration, space.

_Mow_, mouth.

_Mowe_, may.

_Muckle_, see _Mickle_.

_Myrthes_, mirth, merriment. _A man that myrthes can_, a minstrel,

fiddler, juggler, or the like.

_Myster_, need.

_Nane_, none.

_Nar_, nor, than.

_Ner_, ear. So in “_The Romaunt of the Rose_:”

“He streight up to his _ere_ ydrough

The stronge bowe.” {395}

_Ner_, (_ne wer it_), were it not.

_Nip_, p. 100.

_Nips_, p. 101.

_Nobellys_, nobles. The _noble_ was a gold coin, value 6s. 8d.

_Nombles_, _Numbles_, entrails; those parts which are usually baked

in a pie: now, corruptly, called _humbles_ or _umbles_: _nombles_,

F. Thus we say, _an Adder_, _an Apron_, _an Ouche_, instead of _a

Nadder_, (Naddre), _a Napron_, _a Nouche_: the _n_ being, through

ignorance, transferred to the article. The reverse has happened in

the words _A newt_, which should be written _An ewt_: a mistake the

more remarkable as we say and write _An eft_; both from the same

root: Efet, Saxon.

_Obeyedores_, [_obediener_].

_Okerer_, usurer.

_Or_, [en].

_Os_, us.

_Outdone_, undone.

_Owthe_, out.

_Paid_, beat, beaten.

_Palmer._ A _palmer_ was, properly, a pilgrim who had visited the

Holy Land, from the palm-branch or cross which he bore as a sign of

such visitation: but it is probable that the distinction between

_palmers_ and other _pilgrims_ was never much attended to in this

country. The palmer in the text seems to be no more than a common

beggar; as is, likewise, the one in the romance.

_Partakers_, assistants, persons to take thy part.

_Passe_, extent, bounds, limits, district; as the _Pas de Calais_.

Copland’s edition reads _compas_.

_Pauage_, _Pavag_, _Pavage_, _Pawage_, a toll or duty payable for

the liberty of passing over the soil or territory of another:

_paagium_, L.

_Pay_, content, satisfaction, money.

_Peces_, p. 32.

_Pecocke_, _With pecocke well ydight_, handsomely dressed with

peacock feathers. Thus Chaucer, describing his “_squire’s yeman_:”

“A shefe of _peacocke arwes_ bright and kene,

Under his belt he bare ful thriftely.”

In a little treatise of “_The Hors, the Shepe, and the Ghoos_,”

printed by Caxton, it is said—

“Thurgh all the londe of Brutes Albyon

For fetherd arowes as I reherce can

_Ghoos_ is the best to make comparison

Excepte fethers of _pecok_ and of _swan_.”

_Pinder._ The _pinder_ is the _pounder_ or _pound-keeper_; the

petty officer of a manor, whose duty it is to impound all strange

cattle straying upon the common, &c. {396}

_Plucke-buffet_, p. 75.

_Polle_, pull.

_Poke_, bag.

_Preke_, prick, a piece of wood in the centre of the target.

_Prese_, company.

_Prest_, ready, ready to go.

_Puding-pricks_, skewers that fasten the pudding-bag.

_Pyne_, _Goddes pyne_, Christ’s passion or crucifixion.

_Quequer_, quiver: Gocur, Saxon.

_Queyt_, quit, recompense.

_Qod_, quoth, says, said.

_Raked_, walked apace.

_Ray_, _Battle ray_, Battle-array. The same expression occurs in

_The Tragicall History of Didaco and Violenta_, 1567:

“To traverse forth his grounde, to place

His troupes _in batayle ray_.”

_Ray_, array, put in order.

_Raye._ _Cloth of ray_ was cloth not coloured or dyed. It is

mentioned in many old statutes in contradistinction to _cloth of

colour_. See 17 E. 3. c. 1, 7 H. 4. c. 10, 11 H. 4. c. 6, 1 R. 3.

c. 8. The “_reied or striped cloth_” (Stow’s _Survay_, 1598, p.

436, 430) must have been very different.

_Reachles_, careless, regardless, unobservant.

_Red_, clear.

_Reuth_, pity, compassion.

_Reve_, taken by force.

_Reves_, bailiffs, receivers.

_Ripe_, cleanse. _Riped_, cleansed.

_Rod_, poles, perches. A rod, pole, or perch is usually sixteen

feet and a half, but in Sherwood forest (according to Blount) it is

21 feet, the foot there being 18 inches.

_Rode_, rood, cross.

_Rung_, staff.

_Ryall_, royal.

_Ryalty_, royalty.

_Ryghtwys_, righteous, just.

_Sack_, a kind of Spanish wine, perhaps sherry, formerly much drank

in this country; very different, at least, from the sweet (or

canary) wine now so called.

_Sair_, sore.

_Salved_, (_salued_?) saluted. The word _salewed_, in this sense,

occurs repeatedly in _The Hystorye of Reinard the Foxe_ (Pinson’s

edition); and (_vide tamen Salvid_ in the _Gesta Romanorum_, MS.

Har. 7333, No. 48) in that of “_Kynge Ponthus of Galyce_,” 1511.

“_Salue_,” F. i. “_Salewe_,” F. ii. K. Ponthus.

_Scathe_, harm.

_Schetyng_, shooting.

_Schomer_, summer. {397}

_Sclo_, slay.

_Scop_, scalp, pate.

_Scoper_, supper.

_Scouth_, p. 105.

_Serefe_, _Screffe_, sheriff.

_Se_, vide _See_.

_Seche_, seek.

_See_, regard, protect. The same phrase occurs in Chaucer’s

_Troilus and Cresside_:

“Madame, quoth Pandare, God you save see.”

_Seker_, sure.

_Selerer._ The cellarer (_celerier_, _cellararius_, or _cellarius_)

was that officer who furnished the convent with provisions,

_cui potus et escæ cura est, qui cellæ vinariæ et escariæ

præest, promus_ (DU CANGE). He appears to have been a person of

considerable trust, and to have had a principal concern in the

management of the society’s revenues. See Spelman’s _Glossary_,

Fuller’s _Church History_, &c.

_Semblaunte_, semblance, appearance.

_Sene_, see.

_Sete_, p. 25.

_Sets._ _Sets with Roben Hood such a lass!_ probably such a lass

would suit or become him well; but the passage is either singular

or corrupt.

_Sette_, mortgaged.

_Shawe._ _Shaw_ is usually explained by _little wood_, but

_greenwood little wood_ would be ridiculous tautology; it may

therefore mean _shade_, which appears its primitive signification:

Scuƿa, Saxon. See p. 327, ver. 5. _Shaws_, “little woods.”—P.

_Shende_, hurt, annoy. _Shente_, hurt, wounded.

_Shet_, shut.

_Shete_, shoot.

_Shone_, [shoes].

_Shope_, shaped, made.

_Shraddes._ See the note.

_Shrewde_, _Shrewed_, unlucky.

_Shrift_, confession.

_Shroggs_, “shrubs, thorns, briars. G. Doug. _scroggis_.”—P.

_Shyt_, shut.

_Skaith_, hurt, harm. _They feared for his skaith_, _i.e._ for the

harm it might do them.

_Slack_, low ground.

_Slade_, “a slip of greensward between plow-lands, or woods, &c.”—P.

_Slawe_, _Slone_, slain.

_Sle_, _Sloo_, slay.

_Somers_, sumpter-horses.

_Sorowe_, sorry. {398}

_Sothe_, sooth, truth.

_Sound_, see _A-sound_.

_Soyt_, sooth, truth.

_Spear_, ask. _Speer’d_, asked, inquired.

_Stalward_, _Stalworthe_, stout, well made.

_Stane_, stone.

_Stark_, stiff.

_Stede_, time.

_Steven._ _At some unsett-steven_, at some unlooked for time, by

some odd accident, by mere chance, voice.

_Stime_, spark, particle or ray of light.

_Stint_, stop.

_Sto’_, store, p. 219.

_Strang_, strong.

_Strete_, lane, path, way.

_Sweaven_, dream.

_Sweer_, p. 100.

_Syne_, after, afterward, then.

_Syth_, afterward.

_Takles_, arrows.

_Takyll_, arrow.

_Tarpe_, p. 68.

_Tene_, grief, sorrow, distress, vexation.

_Tene_, grieve.

_The_, thrive, prosper.

_Thes_, thus, this.

_Thos_, thus.

_Throwe_, space.

_To-broke_, broken.

_To-hande staffe_, two-hand staff, quarter-staff.

_Tortyll_, wreathed, twined, twirled, twisted; _tortillé_, F.

_Tray_, anger.

_Tree_, staff.

_Treyffe_, thrive.

_Trow_, true.

_Trowet_, troth.

_True_, trow, believe.

_Trystell_, _Trystyll_.

_Tynde_, _Tyndes_, tines, antlers, the pointed branches that issue

from the main beam of a stag. “In Ynglond ther ys a shepcote, the

wyche schepekote hayt ix dorys, & at yeuery dor stondet ix ramys, &

every ram hat ix ewys, & yevery ewe hathe ix lambys, & yevery lambe

hayt ix homes, & every horne hayt ix TYNDES: what ys the somm of

all thes belle?” (MSS. More, Ee. 4. 35.)

_Unketh_, uncouth, strange.

_Unneth_, scarcely.

_Up-chaunce_, by chance.

_Venie_, _Brave venie_, merry vein, jovial humour. {399}

_Wan_, _Wonnynge wan_, dwelling-place.

_Wan_, got.

_Warden-pies._ _Wardens_ are a species of large pears. In

Shakespeare’s _Winter’s Tale_, the clown, enumerating the articles

he had to provide for the sheep-shearing feast, says he “must have

saffron to colour the _warden-pies_.”

_Warse_, worse.

_Was_, wash. “And afterward the justices arise and _wasse_, and

geffe thanks unto the new serjaunts forther gode dyner” (_Origines

Juridiciales_, p. 116). This ceremony, 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 supplyed the place of

this necessary utensil with their fingers.

_Watchman_, a probable mistake for _Waithman_, outlaw. See Notes,

&c., p. lxxiii.

_Wed_, _Wedde_, pawn, pledge, or deposit. _To wedde_, in mortgage.

_Lay my life to wedde_, pawn my life.

_Weele_, well.

_Welt_, _Welt them at his wyll_, did as he pleased with them, used

them at his pleasure.

_Wed_, _Wende_, go, hye.

_Wenest_, thinkest.

_Wenion_, _Marry gep with a wenion!_ “He shoulde have bene at home

a preaching _with a waniant_,” says Bishop Latimer, _Sermons before

King Edward VI._, p. 35. This phrase, _with a wannion_, is common

in old plays, but, though its meaning be obvious, even Mr. Steevens

is unable to “explain the word at the end of it” (_Shak._ xiii.

440). It is now corrupted to _with a vengeance_.

_Went_, wended, gone.

_Werschep_, worshipped, reverenced, respected.

_West_, wist, known.

_Wete_, know.

_Whang_, _Leathern whang_, leather thong or string.

_Whereas_, where.

_Whute_, whistle.

_Wigger wand_, wicker wand.

_Wight_, _Wighty_, strong. _N.B._ The latter word seems everywhere

a mistake for the former.

_Wilfulle_, doubtful.

_Win_, see _Wen_.

_Win_, get.

_Wist_, wis, trow, believe.

_Wist_, knew.

_Wode_, mad.

_Wodys_, woods.

_Wolwarde_, wearing a flannel shirt, by way of penance. See

Steeven’s _Shakespeare_, 1793, v. 360. {400}

_Won_, dwell.

_Wonest_, dwellest.

_Woodweele_, “the golden ouzle, a bird of the thrush kind.”—P.

_Worthe_, _Wo worthe the_, woe be to thee.

_Wrack_, ruin, destruction.

_Wroken_, wreaked, revenged.

_Wyght_, strong, stout.

_Wynne_, go.

_Wys_, trow; there is no modern word precisely synonymous.

_Wyte_, _Wytte_, know.

_Y_, I.

_Yede_, _Yeed_, went.

_Yeff_, if.

_Yeffell_, evil.

_Yeft_, gift.

_Yemenry_, yeomanry. _Thow seys god yemenry_, thou speakest

honestly, fairly, sensibly, like a good yeoman.

_Yend_, yon.

_Yeomandree_, _Yeomandry_, yeomanry, followers.

_Yerdes_, rods.

_Yever_, ever.

_Yfere_, together.

_Ylke_, same. _Ylke same_, very same.

_Ynowe_, enough.

_Yode_, went.

_Yole_, Christmas.

_Yonder_, under.

_Yong men_, yeomen (which is every where substituted in Copland’s

edition). See Spelman’s _Glossary_ in the wordes _Juniores_,

_Yeoman_; Minshen’s _Guide into Tongues_, in the latter

word; Tyrwhitt’s edition of the _Canterbury Tales_, iv. 195;

Shakespeare’s _Plays_, 1793, xiv. 347.

[Illustration]

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO.

EDINBURGH AND LONDON

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

Original spelling and grammar have been generally retained, with

some exceptions noted below. Original printed page numbers are

shown like this: {52}. Original small caps are now uppercase.

Italics look _like this_. Footnotes have been relabeled 1–359,

and moved from within paragraphs to the ends of chapters. The

transcriber produced the cover image and hereby assigns it to

the public domain. Original page images are available from

archive.org—search for "odcollectrobinho00ritsrich".

Page ix, List of Embellishments. The page reference for KIRKLEY

HALL is changed from “xlv” to “xiv”.

Page xxi. The Pedigree of Robin Hood in the printed book was a

complicated chart, which cannot be represented properly in this

simple text edition. Therefore a transcription has been provided,

based on the geneological numbering system of Robert B. Henry—see

for example wikipedia.org, search for Ahnentafel_with_generation.

I apologize for any errors you might find in this transcription.

The Henry system starts with a progenitor, numbered 1, his/her

children, numbered 11, 12, etc, followed by grandchildren 111, 112,

etc. The system ordinarily depends on knowing the order of birth

of children to parents, but that is not provided in our book, so

our Henry numbers are, in that respect, arbitrary, showing only

parentage. Also, the abbreviation m. is used in this transcription,

ordinarily meaning “married”, but in this case indicating only

parentage.

Page xvii. “drowne themselves (as it were,” changed to “drowne

themselves (as it were),”, to close the left parenthesis.

Page lvi. A missing left double quotation mark was inserted before

‘_Rob._ Wind once more,’.

Page lxxiii note. Changed “It is from þæðan, _venari_, _fugare_)”

to “It is from þæðan, _venari_, _fugare_”.

Page c note. The phrase “fr ðes”, retained, might be an error;

perhaps it should read “friðes”?

Page ci. “16:h” to “16th”.

Page cv note. Changed “in 1621 (the very date, by the way, which

appears on Mr. Tollet’s window,” to “in 1621 (the very date, by the

way, which appears on Mr. Tollet’s window),”.

Page cviii. Added right parenthesis after “1783, p. 255.” to

balance the left parenthesis before “See Steevens’s”.

Page 164n. The original inverted asterism has been replaced with an

asterism ⁂ in this text edition.

Page 170. “Robin Hdoo served” to “Robin Hood served”.

Page 188 music midi file. In bar 9, the E-sharp has been corrected

to E-natural.

Page 263n. The footnote “Elephant.” had no anchor in the text, and

is therefore relocated here. A volunteer suggested that it might

attach to ‘eglantine’ in the first line on the page.

Page 269n. The footnote “Robin Hood.” had no anchor in the text; a

new one was inserted after “Robin” in the third stanza.

Page 302 midi file. In bar 6, the first note has been corrected to

a quarter-note. In bar 7, the eighth notes have been corrected to

sixteenth notes.

Page 312n. The footnote had no anchor; a new one is inserted after

“And ‘wandred’”.

Page 348n. Changed “later period in Germany (see” to “later period

in Germany, see”

Pages 354, 355 midi file. The three music snippets on these pages

are meant to be sung as a single three-part chorus, and have been

so rendered in the midi file. Note that transcribing early music

notation into modern notation is not an exact science; in 1609,

when this piece was published, music notation was still considered

more of a guide than a mandate. Therefore, adjustments were made so

that the sound file makes musical sense.

Page 357 midi file. As with the previous piece, which was also

published in 1609, adjustments were made so that the sound file

makes musical sense.

Page 387. Several entries in the Glossary ending with comma were

altered to end with full stop.

Page 393. “_Lewtè_, loyal y,” changed to “_Lewtè_, loyalty,”.

Page 396. There are in several places in this book instances of

words printed in mixtures of uncial, insular, and humanist type.

These have been rendered in common unicode characters in this text

edition; images are provided for the html, epub, and mobi editions.

A particularly odd instance occurs on page 396, where the Saxon

word meaning _Quequer_ is rendered herein “Gocur”.

Robin Hood A collection of all the ancient poems, songs, and ballads, now extant, relative to that celebrated English outlaw. To which are prefixed historical anecdotes of his life. · 第 4 / 4 章

You are brave fellows ! said the bishòp,

You are brave fellows ! said the bishòp,