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Saide Gandeleyn.
'And I shall give thee one before,'
Said Wrennok again.
13.
Wrennok shot a full good shot, And he shot not too high; Through the sanchothes of his breek, It touched neither thigh.
14.
'Now hast thou given me one before'; All thus to Wrennok said he; 'And through the might of our Lady A better I shall give thee.'
15.
Gandeleyn bent his good bow, And set therein a flo; He shot through his green kirtle, His heart he cleft on two.
16.
'Now shalt thou never yelp, Wrennok, At ale ne at wine, That thou hast slaw good Robin And his knave Gandeleyn.
17.
'Now shalt thou never yelp, Wrennok, At wine ne at ale, That thou hast slaw good Robin And Gandeleyn his knave.'
[Annotations: 1.1: 'carping' = talking, tale.
1.5: This line is the burden: it is repeated at the end in the MS.
2.1: 'wern' = were (plural termination as in 'wenten,' etc.); 'children,' young fellows, as in 'Child Roland,' etc.
5.2: 'flo,' arrow.
6.1: 'i-flaw' = flayed. Cp. 'slaw,' 16.3.
8.1: MS. reads 'and lokyd west.'
8.4: 'clepen,' name, call.
9.4: _i.e._, laced in a thrum, or warp.
10.4: 'Misaunter [= misadventure] have' was used in imprecations: cf. in the _Merlin_ romance, 'Mysauenture haue that it kepeth eny counseile.'
11.3: 'Each at the other's heart.'
13.3: 'sanchothes': unexplained; but it obviously means that the arrow struck between his legs.
16.1: 'yelp,' boast.
16.3: 'slaw,' slain.]
ROBIN HOOD AND THE MONK
+The Text+ is modernised from a MS. in the University Library, Cambridge (MS. Ff. v. 48), which belongs to the middle of the fifteenth century.
We have also a single leaf of another MS. version, of about the same date, preserved amongst the Bagford Ballads in the British Museum, but this contains a bare half-dozen stanzas.
+The Story+ might be called a counterpart to _Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne_, inasmuch as it has Little John for its hero, and relates how he set his master free, although Robin had lost his temper with him in the morning. A most unfortunate hiatus after 30.2 prevents us from learning how Robin's fate was reported to his men; but as it stands it is a perfect ballad, straightforward, lively, and picturesque. The first five stanzas, which make a delightful little lyric in themselves, breathe the whole spirit of the greenwood.
ROBIN HOOD AND THE MONK
1.
In summer, when the shaws be sheen And leaves be large and long, It is full merry in fair forest To hear the fowles song,
2.
To see the deer draw to the dale, And leave the hilles hee, And shadow them in the leaves green, Under the greenwood tree.
3.
It befel on Whitsuntide, Early in a May morning, The sun up fair can shine, And the briddes merry can sing.
4.
'This is a merry morning,' said Little John, 'By him that died on tree; A more merry man than I am one Lives not in Christiante.
5.
'Pluck up thy heart, my dear master,'
Little John can say, 'And think it is a full fair time In a morning of May.'
6.
'Yea, one thing grieves me,' said Robin, 'And does my heart much woe; That I may not no solemn day To ma.s.s nor matins go.
7.
'It is a fortnight and more,' said he, 'Syn I my Saviour see; To-day will I to Nottingham, With the might of mild Marie.'
8.
Then spake Much the milner son, Ever more well him betide!
'Take twelve of thy wight yeomen, Well weapon'd by thy side.
Such one would thyselfe slon, That twelve dare not abide.'
9.
'Of all my merry men,' said Robin, 'By my faith I will none have, But Little John shall bear my bow, Till that me list to draw.'
10.
'Thou shall bear thine own,' said Little John, 'Master, and I will bear mine, And we will shoot a penny,' said Little John, 'Under the greenwood lyne.'
11.
'I will not shoot a penny,' said Robin Hood, 'In faith, Little John, with thee, But ever for one as thou shootes,' said Robin, 'In faith I hold thee three.'
12.
Thus shot they forth, these yeomen two, Both at bush and broom, Till Little John won of his master Five shillings to hose and shoon.
13.
A ferly strife fell them between, As they went by the way, Little John said he had won five shillings And Robin Hood said shortly nay.
14.
With that Robin Hood lied Little John, And smote him with his hand; Little John waxed wroth therewith, And pulled out his bright brand.
15.
'Were thou not my master,' said Little John, 'Thou shouldest by it full sore; Get thee a man where thou wilt, For thou gettest me no more.'
16.
Then Robin goes to Nottingham, Himself mourning alone, And Little John to merry Sherwood, The paths he knew ilkone.