A Little Tale of Robin Hood

A translation of a 15th-century tale of Robin Hood, by Graham McLennan.

 

Tales Included:

I: The Devil's Draper

II: An Abott's Honesty

III: Renyald Greenleaf

IV: Miracle in the Greenwood

V: Treason! - And Loyalty

VI: The Sherriff's Hour

VII: Gilbert of the White Hand

VIII: Barefoot Waywards

 

 

I: THE DEVIL'S DRAPER

Draw near and listen, gentles all,

That be of freeborn blood;

I shall tell you of a good yeoman -

His name was Robin Hood.

Robin was a proud outlaw

As long as he walked the ground;

Such a courteous outlaw as he once was

Could never since be found.

Robin stood in Bairnsdale

And leaned against a tree;

And by him stood Little John:

A good yeoman was he.

And so also did good Scarlok,

And Much the Miller's son;

Every inch of his body

Was worthy of a man.

Then up spoke Little John

All unto Robin Hood:

"Master, if you would dine at once

It would do you so much good."

 

 

Then replied to him good Robin:

"To dine I have no wish,

Until I've spied some bold baron,

Or else some strange new quest."

(Fetch me an abbot)

That may pay for the best,

Or some knight or some squire

That dwells out here in the west."

A good custom then had Robin:

In the land where e'er he were,

Every day ere he would dine,

Three masses would he hear.

The one in the worship of the Father,

And another

The third was of our Dear Lady,

That he loved of all the most.

Robin loved our Dear Lady;

For fear of deadly sin,

He never did company harm

That any woman was in.

"Master," then said Little John,

"So we our cloth may spread,

Tell us whither we shall go,

And what sort of life to lead.

"Where we shall take, where we shall leave,

Where we shall wait behind;

Where we shall rob, where we shall thieve,

Where we shall beat and bind."

"Don't worry," said Robin:

"We shall do well enough;

But look you do no farmer harm

That tills with his plough.

"Nor should you any good yeoman

That walks in green wood shadows,

Nor no knight nor no squire

That would be good fellows.

"These bishops and archbishops,

You shall them beat and bind;

The high sheriff of Nottingham,

Hold him in your mind."

"This wood we'll keep," said Little John,

"And this lesson shall we learn.

It is late in the day; God, send us a guest

So we might go to dine."

"Take your good bow in your hand," said Robin;

"Let Much with you be;

And so shall William Scarlok,

And no man stay with me.

"And walk up to the Saylis,

And so to Watling Street,

And wait upon some unknown guest

Who by chance you may meet.

"Be he earl, or any baron,

Abbot, or any knight,

Bring him to lodge with me;

His dinner shall be in sight."

They went up to the Saylis,

These yeomen all three;

They looked east, they looked west:

They might no one see.

But as they looked into Bairnsdale

By a lonely road

Then came a knight a-riding;

Quickly they to him strode.

All dreary was his appearance,

And hidden was his pride;

His one foot in the stirrup stood,

The other waved at the side.

His hood hung in his eyes two,

He rode in simple array;

A sorrier man than this one

Rode never on a summer day.

Little John was very courteous

And fell upon his knee;

"Welcome be ye, gentle knight,

Welcome are you to me.

"Welcome be you to the green wood,

Noble knight and free;

My master has waited you fasting,

Sir, all these hours three."

"Who is thy master?" said the knight;

John said, "Robin Hood!";

"He is a good yeoman," said the knight,

"Of him I have heard much good.

"I grant," he said, "with you to go,

My brethren, all together;

My plan was to have dined today

At Blythe or Doncaster."

Forth then went this gentle knight,

With his careworn face;

The tears from his eyes ran,

Down his cheeks they race.

They brought him to the hut door;

When Robin did him see,

Very courteously took off his hood,

And fell upon his knee.

"Welcome sir knight," then said Robin,

"Welcome are you to me;

I have awaited you fasting sir,

All these hours three."

Then answered the gentle knight,

With words fair and free:

"God thee save, good Robin,

And all your fair company."

They washed and dried their hands,

And set to their dinner;

Bread and wine they had right enough,

And entrails of the deer.

Swans and pheasants they had many,

And fowls from the river;

They lacked not so small a bird

As ever flew in the air.

"Eat well, sir knight,"

"Many thanks,sir," said he;

"Such a dinner had I not

In all these past weeks three."

"If I come again, Robin,

Here by this country,

As good a dinner I shall you make

As you have made for me."

"Great thanks, knight," said Robin;

"My dinner wherever it happens,

I was never so greedy,by dear worthy God,

My food to demand.

"But you must pay ere you go," said Robin;

"I think it only right;

It was never the custom, by dear worthy God,

A yeoman to pay for a knight."

"I have nothing in my coffers," said the knight,

"That I may proffer. For shame!"

"Little John,go look," said Robin,

"And don't hold back for fear of blame.

"Tell me true," then said Robin,

"As God has part of thee":

"I have nothing but ten shillings," said the knight,

"So God has part of me."

"If you have no more," said Robin,

"I will not take a penny;

And if you have need of any more,

More shall I lend to thee.

"Go forth

The truth to tell to me;

If there be no more than ten shillings,

No penny shall I see."

Little John spread down his cloak

Broad upon the ground,

And there he found in the knight's coffer

An even half a pound.

Little John let it lie still

And went humbly to his master;

"What tidings John?" said Robin;

"Sir, the knight spoke fair."

"Fill of the best wine," said Robin,

"And council shall it be;

I swear you were made a knight by force,

Or else of yeomanry.

"Or else you have been a sorry manager,

And lived in war and strife;

A money lender, or else a lecherer,

With wrong have led your life."

......

I am none of these," said the knight,

By God that made me;

A hundred winters here before

My ancestors knights have been.

"But often it happens, Robin,

A man has been disgraced;

Yet God that sits in heaven above

May still amend his state.

"Until two years ago, Robin," he said,

"My neighbours well it know,

Four hundred pounds of good money

I might spend easily enough.

"Now I have nothing," said the knight,

So God has shaped the end,

Except my children and my wife,

Until God it may amend."

"In what manner," said Robin then,

"Have you lost your riches?"

"Through my great folly," he said,

"And for my kindness.

"I had a son, in truth, Robin,

That should have been my heir

Who, when he was twenty winters old

In field would joust right fair.

"He slew a knight of Lancashire,

And a squire bold;

To save his life

My goods are bought and sold.

My lands are set in pledge, Robin,

Until a certain day,

To a rich abbot here beside

At Saint Mary's abbey."

"What is the sum?" said Robin;

"Tell it to me truthfully":

Sir," he said,"four hundred pounds;

The abbot lent to me."

"Now if you lose your land," said Robin,

What shall happen to you?"

"Over the salty sea

Hastily I will prepare to go,

"And see where Christ was quick and dead

On the mount of Calvary;

Fare well,

friend and have a good day;

It may not better be."

Tears fell out of his eyes two;

He would have gone his way;

"Farewell, friends and have a good day,

I have no more to pay."

"Where be your friends?" said Robin:

"Sir,

none of them will me know;

While I was rich at enough at home

Great friendship would they blow.

"And now they run away from me,

Like beasts in a row;

They take no more heed of me,

Than if they never me saw."

For pity then wept Little John,

Scarlock and Much in a pair;

"Drink of the best wine," said Robin,

"For here is simple cheer.

"Have you any friends," said Robin,

Your garauntors to be?"

"I have none," then said the knight,

"But God who died on the tree."

"Put away your jests," said Robin,

"Thereof I'll have none.

Do you think I'd take God as a pledge,

Peter, Paul or John?"

"Nay, by him that made me,

And shaped both sun and moon,

Find me a better backer," said Robin,

"Or money you'll get none."

"I have none other," said the knight,

"The truth to say,

Except for our Dear Lady;

She never failed me before this day."

"By dear worthy God," said Robin,

"To seek all England over,

Yet never found I ever

A better guarantor.

"Come you now forth, Little John,

And go to my treasury,

And bring me four hundred pound,

And look well counted it be."

Forth then went Little John,

And Scarlok went before;

He told out four hundred pounds,

Plus eight and twenty score.

"Is this well counted?" said little Much;

John said:"Why worry?

It is alms to help a gentle knight

That is fallen in poverty.

"Master," then said Little John,

"His clothing is very thin;

You must give the knight a coat of arms

To wrap his body within.

"For you have scarlet and green, master,

And many a rich array;

There is no merchant in Merry England

So rich, I dare well say."

"Take him three yards of every colour,

And look well it measured be."

Little John took no other yard stick

But his bow tree.

And at every handful that he measured,

He added another feet three:

"What devil's draper," said little Much,

"Do you think yourself to be?"

Scarlok stood still and laughed,

And said, "By God Almighty,

John may give him good measure,

Fot it costs him but lightly."

"Master," then said Little John

All unto Robin Hood,

"You must give the knight a horse

To bear home all these goods."

 

"GOD GRANT

THAT HE BE TRUE"

"Take him a grey courser," said Robin,

"And a saddle new;

He is Our Lady's messenger;

God grant that he be true."

"And a good palfrey," said little Much,

"To maintain him in his right";

"And a pair of boots," said Scarlock,

"For he is a gentle knight."

"What shall you give him, Little John?" said Robin;

"Sir, a pair of bright gilt spurs,

To pray for all this company;

God bring him out of sorrow."

"When shall my day be?" said the knight,

"Tell me when will it be?"

"This day twelve months," said Robin,

"Under this green wood tree."

"It would be a great shame," said Robin,

"A knight alone to ride,

Without squire, yeoman, or page

To walk by his side.

"I shall lend you Little John, my man,

For he shall be your thrall;

In a yeoman's place he stands,

If any need should you befall."

 

II:AN ABBOT'S HONESTY

Now is the the knight gone on his way;

This game he thought was good.

When he looked back on Bairnsdale,

He blessed Robin Hood.

And when he thought on Bairnsdale,

On Scarlok,

Much and John,

He blessed them for the best company Where ever he was one.

Then spoke the gentle knight,

To Little John did say:

"Tomorrow I must to York town

To Saint Mary's abbey.

"And to the abbot of that place

Four hundred pounds I must pay,

And unless I'm there this night,

My land is lost, come what may."

The abbot announced to his convent

Where they stood all around:

"This day twelve months (ago) came a knight

And borrowed four hundred pound.

"He borrowed four hundred pounds

Upon his land and fee;

Unless he comes this very day

Disinherited shall he be."

"It is still early," said the prior,

"The day is not far gone:

I would rather pay a hundred pound

And purchase it at once.

"The knight is far beyond the sea,

In England is his right,

He suffers hunger and cold,

And many a sorry night.

 

 

"It would be wrong," said the prior,

"Thus to have his home;

And by having so little conscience,

You do him much shame."

"You're always a pain," said the abbot,

"By God and Saint Richard";

With that came in a fat headed monk,

Who was the cellar guard.

"He is dead or hanged," said the monk,

"By God that bought me dear,

And we shall get to spend in this place

Four hundred pound a year."

The abbot and the high cellarer

Thus they made their boast.

The High Justice of England

There the abbot did host.

The High Justice and many more

Have seized into their paw

Wholly all the knight's debt,

To put him on the wrong side of the law.

They were much against the knight -

The abbot and his company.

"Unless he come this very day,

Disinherited shall he be.

"He will not come yet,

" said the Justice,

"I confidently can state";

But in an unlucky moment for them all,

The knight came to the gate.

Then up spoke that gentle knight

To his loyal mesnie;

"Now put on your simple clothes

That you brought from the sea."

They put on their simple garb,

They came to the gate anon;

The porter was ready himself,

And welcomed them, each one.

"Welcome sir knight," said the porter,

"My lord dines, does he,

And so does many a gentle man,

For the love of thee."

The porter swore a very great oath:

"By God that made me,

Here be the best turned out horses

That ever yet I did see.

"Lead them into the stable," he said,

"That fed might they be";

"They shall not come therein," said the knight,

"By God that died on a tree."

Lords were to meat sitting

In that abbot's hall;

The knight went forth and kneeled down,

And saluted them, great and small.

"Good day,sir abbot," said the knight,

"I am come to hold my day";

The first word that the abbot spoke:

"Have you brought my pay?"

"Not one penny," said the knight,

"By God that made me."

"You are a cursed debtor," said the abbot;

"Sir Justice, drink to me.

"What are you doing here," said the abbot,

"If you have not brought your pay?"

"Before God," then said the knight,

"To pray for a longer day."

"Your day is broken," said the justice,

"Land you'll get none";

"Now good Sir Justice, be my friend,

And protect me from my foes."

"I am loyal to the abbot," said the Justice,

"Both for gifts and fee":

"Now good sir sheriff, be my friend!" asked the knight.

"Nay, before God," said he.

"Now good sir abbot, be my friend,

For courtesy,

And hold my lands in your hand

Until I make them agree!

"And I will be your true servant,

And truly serve you,

Until you have four hundred pound,

Of money good and true."

The abbot swore a very great oath:

"By God that died on tree,

Get your land where you may,

For you get none of me."

"By dear worthy God," then said the knight,

"That all this world has wrought,

If I shall have my land again,

Full dear it shall be bought.

"God that was of a maiden born,

Let us well now thrive!

For it is good to test a friend

Ere a man is in trial!"

The abbot sourly on him looked,

And did villainously to him call:

"Out," he said, "you false knight,

Get out of my hall!"

"You lie," then said the gentle knight,

"Abbot, in your hall;

False knight was I never,

By God that made us all!"

Up then stood that gentle knight,

To the abbot then said he:

"To suffer a knight to kneel so long,

Shows you have no courtesy.

"In jousts and tournaments

Very far have I been,

And put myself as far into the strife

As any that ever I have seen."

 

"What will you give more," said the justice,

"So the the property I'll release?

Else, I may safely swear

You'll never hold your land in peace."

"A hundred pounds," said the abbot;

The Justice said: "Give him two";

"Nay, by God," said the knight,

"You get my land not so,

"Though you would give a thousand more,

Yet you would never come near;

I shall never have as my heir

An abbot, justice, or a friar."

He rushed over to a table nearby,

To a table round,

And there he shook from a bag

An even four hundred pound.

"Have there your gold, sir abbot," said the knight,

"Which you lent to me;

Had you been courteous at my coming,

You would rewarded be."

The abbot sat still, and ate no more,

For all his royal fare;

His head drooped upon his shoulder,

And he began to stare.

"Give me my gold again," said the abbot,

"Sir Justice, that I gave thee."

"Not a penny," said the Justice,

"By God that died on a tree."

Said the knight:"Sir abbot, and you men of law,

Now I have kept my day;

Now I shall have my land again,

For ought that you can say."

The knight ran out the door,

Away was all his care,

And on he put his good clothing:

The rest he left right there.

He went forth so merrily singing,

As men have told in tale;

His lady met him at the gate,

At home in Verysdale.

"Welcome my lord," said his lady;

"Sir, ost you all your goods?"

"Be merry, dame," said the knight,

"And pray for Robin Hood,

"That ever his soul shall be in bliss;

He helped me out of trouble;

But for his kindness,

We would be humbled.

"The abbot and I agree,

He has given his pay;

The good yeoman lent it to me

As I came along the way."

This knight then dwelled fair at home,

The truth to say,

Until he had got four hundred pound,

All prepared for the day.

He bought himself a hundred bows,

The strings were all tight,

An hundred sheaves of arrows good

The heads burnished bright;

And every arrow a clothyard long,

With peacock feathers as their flight,

Notched with silver white;

It was a seemly sight.

He hired a hundred men

From the town,well armed,

And himself in the same style,

And clothed in white and red.

He bore a lance in his hand,

And a man led his mule,

And riding with a joy

Went to Bairnsdale.

 

At Wentbridge there was a wrestling,

And there delayed was he,

And there were all the best yeomen

Of all the west country.

A right fair game there was set up,

A white bull the prize,

And a great courser, with saddle and bridle,

With burnished gold shines.

A pair of gloves, a red gold ring,

A barrel of wine, in faith,

For the men that did the best,

Shall carry the prize away.

There was a yeomen in that place,

And most worthy was he,

And because he was a stranger,

Slain he would have been.

The knight had pity of this yeoman,

In the place where he stood;

He said that yeoman should not be harmed,

For love of Robin Hood.

The knight pressed into the arena,

A hundred following,

With bows bent and arrows sharp,

To punish the bullies.

They shouldered their way, and made him room

To hear what he would say:

He took the yeoman by the hand,

And gave him all the play.

He gave him five marks for his wine,

Where it lay on the ground,

And ordered it should be broached,

So everyone might drink it down.

Thus long tarried this gentle knight,

Until the sport was done:

And so long waited Robin fasting,

Three hours after noon.

"God that was of a maiden born,

Let us well now thrive!

For it is good to test a friend

Ere a man is in trial!"

The abbot sourly on him looked,

And did villainously to him call:

"Out," he said, "you false knight,

Get out of my hall!"

"You lie," then said the gentle knight,

"Abbot, in your hall;

False knight was I never,

By God that made us all!"

Up then stood that gentle knight,

To the abbot then said he:

"To suffer a knight to kneel so long,

Shows you have no courtesy.

"In jousts and tournaments

Very far have I been,

And put myself as far into the strife

As any that ever I have seen."

"What will you give more," said the justice,

"So the the property I'll release?

Else, I may safely swear

You'll never hold your land in peace."

"A hundred pounds," said the abbot;

The Justice said: "Give him two";

"Nay, by God," said the knight,

"You get my land not so,

"Though you would give a thousand more,

Yet you would never come near;

I shall never have as my heir

An abbot, justice, or a friar."

He rushed over to a table nearby,

To a table round,

And there he shook from a bag

An even four hundred pound.

 

"Have there your gold, sir abbot," said the knight,

"Which you lent to me;

Had you been courteous at my coming,

You would rewarded be."

The abbot sat still, and ate no more,

For all his royal fare;

His head drooped upon his shoulder,

And he began to stare.

"Give me my gold again," said the abbot,

"Sir Justice, that I gave thee."

"Not a penny," said the Justice,

"By God that died on a tree."

Said the knight: "Sir abbot, and you men of law,

Now I have kept my day;

Now I shall have my land again,

For ought that you can say."

The knight ran out the door,

Away was all his care,

And on he put his good clothing:

The rest he left right there.

He went forth so merrily singing,

As men have told in tale;

His lady met him at the gate,

At home in Verysdale.

"Welcome my lord," said his lady;

"Sir, lost you all your goods?"

"Be merry, dame," said the knight,

"And pray for Robin Hood,

"That ever his soul shall be in bliss;

He helped me out of trouble;

But for his kindness,

We would be humbled.

"The abbot and I agree,

He has given his pay;

The good yeoman lent it to me

As I came along the way."

This knight then dwelled fair at home,

The truth to say,

Until he had got four hundred pound,

All prepared for the day.

He bought himself a hundred bows,

The strings were all tight,

An hundred sheaves of arrows good

The heads burnished bright;

And every arrow a clothyard long,

With peacock feathers as their flight,

Notched with silver white;

It was a seemly sight.

He hired a hundred men

From the town, well armed,

And himself in the same style,

And clothed in white and red.

He bore a lance in his hand,

And a man led his mule,

And riding with a joyous song,

Went to Bairnsdale.

At Wentbridge there was a wrestling,

And there delayed was he,

And there was all the best yeomen

Of all the west country.

A right fair game there was set up,

A white bull the prize,

And a great courser, with saddle and bridle,

With burnished gold shines.

A pair of gloves, a red gold ring,

A barrel of wine, in faith,

For the men that did the best,

Shall carry the prize away.

There was a yeomen in that place,

And most worthy was he,

And because he was a stranger,

Slain he would have been.

 

The knight had pity of this yeoman,

In the place where he stood;

He said that yeoman should not be harmed,

For love of Robin Hood.

The knight pressed into the arena,

A hundred following,

With bows bent and arrows sharp,

To punish the bullies.

They shouldered their way, and made him room

To hear what he would say:

He took the yeoman by the hand,

And gave him all the play.

He gave him five marks for his wine,

Where it lay on the ground,

And ordered it should be broached,

So everyone might drink it down.

Thus long tarried this gentle knight,

Until the sport was done:

And so long waited Robin fasting,

Three hours after noon.

 

III:REYNALD GREENLEAF

Draw near and listen, gentlemen,

All that now be here,

Of Little John, that was the knight's man,

Good jests you will hear.

It was on a merry day

That young men would compete;

Little John fetched his bow,

And said he would with them meet.

Three times Little John shot about,

And always cleft the wand;

The proud sheriff of Nottingham

By the marks did stand.

The sheriff swore a right great oath:

"By Him that died on the tree:

This man is the best archer

That ever I did see.

"Tell me now, young man,

What is now your name?

In what country were you born,

Where abouts is your home?"

"In Holderness,sir, I was born,

I was told by my mum;

Men call me Reynald Greenleaf

Whenever I am at home."

"Tell me, Reynald Greenleaf,

Will you dwell with me?

And every year I will to you give

Twenty marks as your fee."

"I already have a master," said Little John,

"A courteous knight is he;

If you can get his leave

The better it would be."

The sheriff got Little John

Twelve months leave from the lord;

And so he gave him right away

A good horse and a lad.

Now is Little John the sheriff's man;

God, give us luck, if we may.

But Little John always planned

To earn right well his pay.

"Now, so God me help," said Litle John,

"By my true loyalty,

I shall be the worst servant to him

That ever yet had he."

It fell upon a Wednesday

The sheriff hunting had gone;

And Little John lay in his bed,

All forgotten behind at home.

Thus he was fasting

Until it was after noon.

"Good sir steward, I pray to you,

Give me my dinner," said Little John.

"It is too long for Greenleaf

Fasting thus to be;

Therefore I beg you, sir steward,

Give my dinner to me."

"You shall neither eat nor drink," said the steward,

"Till my lord be come to town!"

"I make my vow to God," said Little John,

"I had rather crack your crown."

The butler was most uncourteous:

There he held the floor;

He ran to the buttery

And shut fast the door.

Little John gave the butler such a tap

His back near broke in two;

Though he lives a hundred winters,

The worse he still shall go.

He slammed the door with his foot.

It opened well and fine;

And then he liberated the goods,

Both ale and wine.

"Since you will not dine," said Little John,

"I shall give you a drink;

And even if you live a hundred years,

Of Little John you will think."

Little John ate and Little John drank,

As long as he would;

The sherriff had in his kitchen a cook,

A stout man and a bold.

"I make my vow to God," said the cook,

"You are a shrewd sinner

In any household to dwell,

Thus to invite us to dinner."

And there he lent Little John

Good strokes three:

"I make my vow," said Little John,

"Those blows agreed with me.

"You are a bold man and a hardy,

And so it seems to me:

And ere I leave this place,

Tested better you shall be."

Little John drew a great big sword,

The cook seized another in his hand.

Neither considered fleeing,

But stiffly they did stand.

Then they fought fiercely together,

Half an hour and more;

Neither could harm the other,

During the remainder of an hour.

"I swear to God," said Little John,

"And by my loyalty;

You are one of the best swordsmen

That ever yet I did see.

"If you could shoot as well,

You'd come to the green wood with me,

And twice a year your clothing

Should renewed be.

 

"And every year from Robin Hood

You'd get twenty marks for your pay."

"Put up your sword," said the cook,

"And mates we two shall be."

Then he fetched for Little John

The guts of a doe;

Good bread and very good wine;

They ate and drank those two,

And when they had drunken well

Their oaths they together plight

That they would be with Robin

That self same night.

They went to the treasury

As fast as they might go.

The locks,they were of good steel.

They broke them easily to and fro.

They took away the silver vessels

And all that they might get;

Cups, bowls, nor spoons

Would they not forget.

Also they took plenty of cash,

Three hundred pounds and more,

And took them straight to Robin Hood,

Under the green wood shore.

"God save you, my dear master,

And Christ you save and see!"

And then said Robin to Little John:

"Welcome you might be.

"Also that fine yeoman

You bring with you:

What tidings from Nottingham?

Little John, tell me true."

"Well, the proud sheriff greets you

And sends you here by me

His cook and his silver vessel,

And three hundred pounds and three."

 

"I make my vow to God," said Robin,

"And to the Trinity,

It was never by his good will

That these goods came to me."

Little John there thought

Of a trick right shrewd:

Five miles into the forest he ran,

All happened as he construed.

Then he met the proud sheriff,

Hunting with hounds and horn;

Little John knew his manners,

And kneeled down him before.

"God save you, my dear master,

And Christ you save and see!"

"Reynald Greenleaf," said the sheriff,

"Where have you just now been?"

"I have been in this forest,

A fair sight I may see;

It was one of the fairest sights

That ever yet came to me.

"Yonder I saw a right fair hart,

His colour is of green,

Seven score of deer in a herd

Are with him to be seen.

"Their horns are so sharp, master,

Of sixty and more, I say,

That I dare not shoot for dread,

Unless they would me slay."

"I make my vow," said the sheriff,

That sight I want to see."

"Hurry this way, my dear master,

At once and come with me."

The sheriff rode, and Little John

On foot he was right smart,

And said when they came before Robin,

"Lo, here is the master hart."

 

Still stood the proud sheriff:

A sorry man was he;

"Curses on you, Reynald Greenleaf,

You have betrayed me."

"I swear to God," said Little John,

"Master, you bear the blame;

I was cheated of my dinner

When I was with you at home."

Soon he was to supper set,

And served with silver white,

And when the sheiff saw his vessel,

For sorrow he might not eat.

"Make good cheer," said Robin Hood,

"Sheriff, for charity,

And for the love of Little John,

Your life saved will be."

When they had supped well,

The day was all gone.

Robin commanded Little John

To take off his hose and shoes,

His hat and his coat

That was nicely furred and fine

And gave him a green cloak

To wrap his body within.

Robin commanded his strong young men

Under the greenwood tree,

They should be in the same clothes

That the sheriff might them see.

All night lay the proud sheriff

In his breeches and his shirt;

No wonder it was, in green wood;

Though his sides began to smart.

"Make good cheer," said Robin Hood,

"Sheriff, for charity;

For this is our order I think

Under the green wood tree."

 

"This is a harder order," said the sheriff,

"Than of any hermit or friar;

For all the gold in merry England

I would no longer dwell here."

"All this twelve months," said Robin,

"You shall dwell with me;

I shall teach you, proud sheriff,

An outlaw how to be."

"Ere I here another night lie," said the sheriff,

"Robin, now I beg of ye,

Rather, smite off my head tomorrow,

And I'll forgive it of thee.

"Let me go," then said the sheriff,

"For holy charity,

And I will be the best friend

That ever you did see."

"You shall swear me an oath," said Robin,

"On my bright brand;

You'll never set out to do me harm,

By water nor by land.

"And if you find any of my men,

By night or by day,

Upon your oath you shall swear

To help them if you may."

Now has the sheriff sworn his oath

And homewards he has gone;

He was as full of the green wood

As ever was a house of stone.

 

IV: MIRACLE IN THE GREENWOOD

The sheriff lived in Nottingham,

He was glad that he was gone;

And Robin and his merry men

Went to the wood again.

"Let's go to dinner," said Little John;

Robin said,"Nay;

For I'm afraid Our Lady is angry with me,

For she has not sent me my pay."

"Have no fear, master," said Little John;

"The sun is not yet at rest;

For I dare say, and safely swear,

The knight you can truly trust."

"Take your bow in your hand,

" said Robin,

"Let Much go with you along

And so shall William Scarlok,

And no man wait with me alone.

"And walk up under the Saylis,

And to Watling Street,

And wait upon some unknown guest

Whom you might chance to meet.

"Whether he be a messenger,

Or a man that a joke might know,

Of my wealth he shall have some,

If he is a poor fellow."

Off then started Little John,

Half sorry, half mad,

And girded himself with a good sword

Under a green cloak clad.

They went up to the Saylis,

These yeomen all three;

They looked east, they looked west,

They might no man see.

 

 

 

But as they looked in Bairnsdale,

By the high way,

Then were they aware of two black monks,

Each on a good palfrey.

Then up spoke Little John,

To Much he did say,

"I dare lay my life to bet,

These monks have brought our pay.

"Make glad cheer," said Little John,

"And ready our bows of yew,

And look your hearts be sure and sober,

Your bowstrings strong and true.

"Brothers," said Little John,

"Here are no more but we three;

Unless we bring them to dinner,

Our master we dare not see.

"Bend your bows," said Little John,

"Make all yon throng to stand;

"You lie," then said Little John,

"And that shall you rue;

He is a yeoman of the forest,

To dine he now invites you."

Much was ready with a shaft,

Ready and at once

He shot the monk in the breast,

And to the ground he falls.

Of two and fifty strong young men

There lived not one,

Save a little page and a groom,

To lead the sumpters with Little John.

They brought the monks to the lodge door,

Whether they loathed or liked it,

For to speak with Robin Hood,

In spite of their anger at it.

 

 

 

Robin pulled off his hood,

The monk when he did see;

The monk was not so courteous,

His hood he let be.

"He is a churl, master, by dear worthy God,

" Then said Little John:

"Don't worry," said Robin,

"For manners has he none.

"How many men," said Robin,

"Had this monk, John?"

"Fifty and two when that we met,

But many of them be gone."

"Let the horn be blown," said Robin,

"That friends may us know."

Seven score sprightly yeomen

Came riding in a row.

And every one of them had a good mantle

Of scarlet and of grey;

All of them came to good Robin,

To hear what he would say.

They made the monk to wash and wipe,

And sit at his dinner,

Robin Hood and Little John

They served him both together.

"Eat well, monk," said Robin.

"My thanks, sir," said he.

"Where is your abbey when you are at home,

And whom do you obey?"

"Saint Mary's abbey," said the monk,

"Though I am nothing here."

"In what office?" said Robin.

"Sir, the high cellarer."

"And she was a garauntor," said Robin,

"Between a knight and me,"

"Of a little money that I him lent,

Under the green wood tree.

"And if you have that silver brought,

I pray you let me see;

And I shall help you often,

If you have need of me."

The monk swore a mighty oath

With a sorry face:

"Of the garauntor you speak of,

I heard not of in any other place."

"I swear to God," said Robin,

Monk, you are to blame,

For God is helf a righteous man,

And so too is His Dame.

You told with your own tongue,

You may not say nay,

How you are her servant,

And serve her every day.

"And you are made her messenger

My money for to pay;

Therefore I can you thank

For coming on the right day.

What is in your coffers?" said Robin,

"Really - you can tell me."

"Sir," he said, "Twenty marks,

Please believe you me."

"If there be no more," said Robin,

"I will not take one penny,

And if you need any more,

Sir, more shall I lend thee.

"But if I find more," said Robin,

"I believe you'll lose the lot.

But of your pocket money, monk,

Of that I want not a jot.

"Go you now, Little John,

And the truth tell me;

If there be no more than twenty marks,

No penny shall I see."

 

Little John spread his mantle down,

As he had done before,

And he told of the monk's wallet

Eight hundred pounds and more.

Little John let it lie quite still,

And to his master hurried next;

"Sir," he said," the monk is true enough,

For Our Lady has doubled your bet".

"I swear to God," said Robin -

"Monk, what did I say?

Our Lady is the truest woman

That ever came to me.

"By dear worthy God," said Robin,

"To seek all England through,

Yet found I never for my satisfaction

A much better garauntor.

"Pour the best wine, let him drink," said Robin,

"And greet well thy lady kind,

And if she shall have need of Robin Hood,

A friend she shall him find.

"And if she needs any more silver,

Come you again to me,

And by this token she hath me sent,

She shall have it times three."

The monk was going towards London,

There to make a plot

The knight so high on horse,

To bring him under foot.

"Where are you off to?" said Robin;

"Sir to manors in this land,

To chat with our sheriffs,

That have done much wrong."

"Come forth, Little John,

And listen to my tale;

A better yeomen I know none,

To search a monk's purse.

"How much is in that other coffer?" said Robin,

"That truly must we see."

"By Our Lady," then said the monk,

"That were no courtesy,

"To invite a man to dinner,

And then him beat and bind."

"It is our old manner,"said Robin,

"To leave but little behind."

The monk then put his horse to spur,

No longer would he abide.

"Would you like a drink," then said Robin,

"Ere you further ride?"

"Nay, before God," then said the monk,

"I'm sorry I came so near;

For better cost I might have dined

In Blythe or in Doncaster."

"Greet well your abbot," said Robin,

"And your prior, I you pray,

And bid him send me such a monk

To dinner every day."

Now let we that monk be still

And speak we of that knight;

Yet he came to keep his word,

While that it was light.

He went straight to Bairnsdale,

Under the greenwood tree,

And he found there Robin Hood,

And all his merry company.

The knight alit from his good palfrey;

Robin when he him did see,

So courteously he took off his hood,

And kneeled upon his knee.

"God save you,Robin Hood,

And all this company;"

"Welcome be you, gentle knight,

And right welcome to me."

Then up spoke Robin Hood,

To that knight so free:

"Why are you come to the greenwood?

I pray you sir knight, tell me.

"And welcome be you, gentle knight,

Why have you been so long?"

"Because the abbot and the high justice

Would have had my land."

"Have you got your land again?" said Robin;

"Truly, you can tell me."

"Yes, before God," said the knight,

"And for that I thank God and thee.

"But don't worry that I have been so long;

I happened upon some wrestling,

And there I helped a poor yeoman,

Who was wrongly treated unkind."

"Nay, before God," said Robin,

"Sir knight, for that thank I you;

Whatever man helps a good yeoman,

His friend I will be true."

"Have here four hundred pounds," said the knight,

"The which ye lent to me;"

And here is also twenty marks,

For your courtesy."

"Nay, before God," said Robin,

Enjoy it fo ever it you may

For Our Lady, through her high cellarer

Has sent it for my pay.

"And if I took it twice,

A shame it were for me;

But truly, gentle knight,

Welcome you are to me."

When Robin had told his tale,

He laughed and made good cheer:

"By my word," then said the knight,

"Your money is ready here."

"Enjoy it well," said Robin,

"You gentle knight so free,

And welcome be you, gentle knight,

Under my meeting tree."

"But what shall these bows do?" said Robin,

"And these arrows feathered neatly?"

"By God," then said the knight,

They are a poor present from me."

"Come now forth, Little John,

And go to my treasury,

And bring me there four hundred pound,

The monk overpaid it to me.

"Have here four hundred pound,

You good gentle knight and true,

And by you horse and harness good,

And gild thy spurs all new.

And if you don't have enough,

Come to Robin Hood,

And by my word, you shall not fail,

While I may do any good.

And enjoy you well your four hundred pound,

Which I lent to you,

And do not go short,

For whatever I may do."

Thus then helped him good Robin,

The knight from all his care,

God, who sits in heaven high,

Grant us well to fare!

V: TREASON! - AND LOYALTY

Now the knight has his leave taken,

And wends upon his way;

Robin Hood and his merry men

Waited for many a day.

Draw near and listen, gentlemen,

And listen to what I shall say,

How the proud sheriff of Nottingham

Did announce a games day;

That all the best archers of the north

Should meet on a certain day,

And he that shoot of all the best,

The prize should bear away.

He that shoots of all the best,

The furthest, fairest and low,

At a pair of goodly targets

Under the green wood bough,

A right good arrow he shall have,

The shaft of silver white,

The head and feathers of rich red gold,

In England there is none like it.

This then heard good Robin,

Under his meeting tree:

"Make you ready, you strong young men,

That shooting I will see.

"Hurry, my merry young men,

You shall go with me;

And I will know the sheriff's faith,

If true he will be".

When they had bent their bows,

Their tackle feathered finely,

Seven score of strong young men

Stood by Robin's knee.

When they came to Nottingham,

The targets were fair and long;

Many was the bold archer

To shoot with bows so strong.

"There shall none but six shoot with me;

The others shall watch my back,

And stand with bows all drawn,

That I be not attacked".

The fourth outlaw his bow did bend,

And that was Robin Hood,

And that beheld the proud sheriff,

Where near the butt he stood.

Thrice Robin shot at the target,

And always slit the wand,

And so did good Gilbert,

He of the white hand.

Little John and good Scarlok

Were archers good and ready;

Little Much and good Reynald,

The worst they would not be.

When they had shot about,

These archers fair and good,

Always the best,

Truly was Robin Hood.

To him was given the prize arrow,

For most worthy was he;

He took the gift so courteously,

In the greenwood he wished to be.

They cried out against Robin,

And great horns began to blow;

"YOU ARE TOO EVIL..."

"Woe to you, treason!" said Robin,

"You are too evil to know."

"And woe be you! you proud sheriff,

Trying to trick me most,

Or else you'd only see me

In yonder wild forest.

 

 

"But if I had you in the green wood

Under my meeting tree,

You should give me a better oath

Than your sworn loyalty."

Full many a bow there was bent

And arrows they let glide;

Many a tunic there was torn,

And many hurt on either side.

The outlaws shot was so strong

That no man might them drive,

And the proud sheriff's men,

They fled to save their lives.

Robin saw the ambush broken,

In the greenwood wished to be;

Many an arrow was there shot

Amongst that company.

Little John was hurt full sore,

With an arrow in his knee,

So he might neither go nor ride;

It was a very great pity.

"Master," then said Little John,

"If ever you loved me,

And for that same Lord's love

That died upon a tree,

"And for the reward of my service,

That I have given freely

"...AND WOE BE YOU"

Let never the proud sheriff

Alive now take me.

"But take out your brown sword,

And smite off all my head,

And give me wounds deep and wide;

No life in me be left."

 

 

 

"I wish not," said Robin,

"That I you slew

For all the gold in merry England,

Though it lay in a row."

"God forbid," said Little Much,

"That died on a tree,

That you should, Little John,

Part our company."

Up he took him on his back

And bore him at least a mile,

Many a time he laid him down,

And shot another while.

Then there was a fair castle,

A small way within the wood;

Double ditched it was about,

And walled, by God.

And there dwelled that gentle knight,

Sir Richard at the Lee,

That Robin had lent his good,

Under the greenwood tree.

In he took good Robin,

And all his company:

"Welcome are you, Robin Hood,

Welcome are you to me.

"And much I thank you of your comfort,

And of your courtesy,

And of your great kindness,

Under the greenwood tree.

"I love no man in all this world

So much as I do thee;

Despite the proud sheriff of Nottingham,

Safe here you shall be.

"Shut the gates, and draw the bridge,

And let no man come in,

And arm you well, and make you ready,

And to the walls be going.

 

"But one thing, Robin, I promise,

I swear by Saint Quentin,

That forty days you'll live with me,

To sup, eat and dine."

Tables were laid, and cloths were spread,

Quickly and at once:

Robin and his merry men

To eat are now gone hence.

 

VI: THE SHERIFF'S HOUR

Gather around, gentlemen,

And hearken to your song

Of the proud sheriff of Nottingham.

Men at arms strong

Quickly came to the high sheriff,

The country to ride,

And they besieged the knight's castle,

The walls on every side.

The proud sheriff loud did cry,

And said "You traitor knight,

You keep here the king's enemies,

Against the law and right.

"Sir, I will swear that I have done

The deeds that here be named

Upon all the lands that I have,

As I am a true knight.

"Go forth, upon your way,

And do no more to me,

Til you know our king's will,

What he will say to you."

The sheriff thus had his answer,

Without any lying,

Forth he went to London town,

All for to tell our king.

Then he told him of that knight,

And also of Robin Hood,

And also of the bold archers,

That were so noble and good.

"He will swear what he has done,

To maintain the outlaws' strength;

He will be ruler, and set you at nought,

Through the north land's length."

"I will go to Nottingham," said our king,

"Within this fortnight,

And I will take Robin Hood,

And I'll also get that knight.

"Go home now, sheriff," said our king,

"And do as commanded by me;

And recruit good archers enough,

From throughout the country."

The sheriff has his leave taken,

And went along his way;

And Robin Hood was in the green wood,

Upon a certain day.

And Little John was healed of the arrow

That had lodged in his knee,

And went straight to Robin Hood,

Under the greenwood tree.

Robin Hood walked in the forest,

Under the leaves green;

The proud sheriff of Nottingham

At that vented his spleen.

The sheriff failed to catch Robin Hood,

He might not take his prey;

So he waited for the gentle knight,

Both by night and day.

Ever he awaited the gentle knight,

Sir Richard at the Lee,

As he went hawking along the river side,

And set his hawks free.

There he took this gentle knight,

With men at arms strong,

And led him to Nottingham gaol,

His hands and feet in bond.

The sheriff swore a terrible oath,

By him that died on the rod,

He had rather than a hundred pound

That he had Robin Hood.

This heard the knight's wife,

A fair lady and a free;

Mounted on a good palfrey,

To the green wood at once rode she.

When she came to the forest,

Under the green wood tree,

Found she there Robin Hood,

And all his good company.

"God save you, good Robin,

And all your company;

For our Dear Lady's sake,

A gift you grant to me.

"Do not permit my wedded lord

Shamefully slain to be;

He lies bound in Nottingham gaol,

All for the love of thee.

At once then said good Robin

To that lady so free,

"What man has taken your lord?

Tell it truly to me."

"The sheriff has taken my lord," the lady said,

"Truly as I to you say;

He is not yet three miles

Passed along his way."

Up then started good Robin,

As a man that was mad:

"Hurry up, my merry men,

For Him that died on the Rod.

"And he that this sorrow ignores,

By Him that died on tree,

Shall never in the green wood

Any more dwell with me."

Soon there were good bows bent,

More than seven score;

Hedge nor ditch spared the none

That was them before.

"I swear to God," said Robin,

"The sheriff I wish to see;

And if I may take him,

Revenged it will all be."

And when they came to Nottingham,

They walked in the street;

And with the proud sheriff

They soon happened to meet.

"Hold on, proud sheriff," he said,

"Abide and speak with me;

Some news of our king

I wish to hear from thee.

"This seven year, by dear worthy God,

I never went so fast on foot;

I swear to God, you proud sheriff,

It is not for your good."

Robin bent a great strong bow,

An arrow he drew full;

He hit the proud sheriff so

That upon the ground he fell.

And ere he might get up,

On his feet to stand,

He smote off the sheriff's head

With his bright brand.