The Book of Old English Ballads Part 8

"What hast thou here?" the bishop then said, "I prithee now tell unto me."

"I am a bold harper," quoth Robin Hood, "And the best in the north country."

"O welcome, O welcome," the bishop he said, "That music best pleaseth me."

"You shall have no music," quoth Robin Hood, "Till the bride and bridegroom I see."

With that came in a wealthy knight, Which was both grave and old; And after him a finikin la.s.s, Did shine like the glistering gold.

"This is not a fit match," quoth Robin Hood, "That you do seem to make here; For since we are come into the church, The bride shall chuse her own dear."

Then Robin Hood put his horn to his mouth, And blew blasts two and three; When four-and-twenty bowmen bold Came leaping over the lea.

And when they came into the church-yard, Marching all in a row, The first man was Allen-a-Dale, To give bold Robin his bow.

"This is thy true love," Robin he said, Young Allen, as I hear say; And you shall be married this same time, Before we depart away."

"That shall not be," the bishop he cried, "For thy word shall not stand; They shall be three times asked in the church, As the law is of our land."

Robin Hood pulled off the bishop's coat, And put it upon Little John; "By the faith of my body," then Robin said, "This cloth doth make thee a man."

When Little John went into the quire, The people began to laugh; He asked them seven times into church, Lest three times should not be enough.

"Who gives me this maid?" said Little John, Quoth Robin Hood, "That do I; And he that takes her from Allen-a-Dale, Full dearly he shall her buy."

And then having ended this merry wedding, The bride looked like a queen; And so they returned to the merry greenwood, Amongst the leaves so green.

Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne

When shaws beene sheene, and shradds full fayre, And leaves both large and longe, Itt is merrye walkyng in the fayre forrest To heare the small birdes songe.

The woodweele sang, and wold not cease, Sitting upon the spraye, Soe lowde, he wakened Robin Hood, In the greenwood where he lay.

"Now, by my faye," sayd jollye Robin, "A sweaven I had this night; I dreamt me of tow wighty yemen, That fast with me can fight.

"Methought they did mee beate and binde, And tooke my bow mee froe; Iff I be Robin alive in this lande, Ile be wroken on them towe."

"Sweavens are swift, master," quoth John, "As the wind that blowes ore the hill; For if itt be never so loude this night, To-morrow it may be still."

"Buske yee, bowne yee, my merry men all, And John shall goe with mee, For Ile goe seeke yond wight yeomen, In greenwood where the bee."

Then they cast on their gownes of grene, And tooke theyr bowes each one; And they away to the greene forrest A shooting forth are gone;

Untill they came to the merry greenwood, Where they had gladdest to bee; There were they ware of a wight yeoman, His body leaned to a tree.

A sword and a dagger he wore by his side, Of manye a man the bane; And he was clad in his capull hyde, Topp and tayll and mayne.

"Stand you still, master," quoth Little John, "Under this tree so grene, And I will go to yond wight yeoman To know what he doth meane."

"Ah! John, by me thou settest noe store, And that I farley finde: How offt send I my men beffore, And tarry my selfe behinde!

"It is no cunning a knave to ken, And a man but heare him speake; And itt were not for bursting of my bowe, John, I thy head wold breake."

As often wordes they breeden bale, So they parted Robin and John; And John is gone to Barnesdale; The gates he knoweth eche one.

But when he came to Barnesdale, Great heavinesse there hee hadd, For he found tow of his owne fell wes Were slaine both in a slade.

And Scarlette he was flying a-foote Faste over stocke and stone, For the sheriffe with seven score men Fast after him is gone.

"One shoote now I will shoote," quoth John, "With Christ his might and mayne; Ile make yond fellow that flyes soe fast, To stopp he shall be fayne."

Then John bent up his long bende-bowe, And fetteled him to shoote: The bow was made of tender boughe, And fell down to his foote.

"Woe worth, woe worth thee, wicked wood, That ere thou grew on a tree; For now this day thou art my bale, My boote when thou shold bee."

His shoote it was but loosely shott, Yet flewe not the arrowe in vaine, For itt mett one of the sherriffes men, Good William a Trent was slaine.

It had bene better of William a Trent To have bene abed with sorrowe, Than to be that day in the green-wood slade To meet with Little Johns arrowe.

But as it is said, when men be mett Fyve can doe more than three, The sheriffe hath taken Little John, And bound him fast to a tree.

"Thou shalt be drawen by dale and downe, And hanged hye on a hill."

"But thou mayst fayle of thy purpose," quoth John, "If itt be Christ his will."

Lett us leave talking of Little John, And thinke of Robin Hood, How he is gone to the wight yeoman, Where under the leaves he stood.

"Good morrowe, good fellowe," sayd Robin so fayre, "Good morrowe, good fellow," quoth he.

"Methinks by this bowe thou beares in thy hande, A good archere thou sholdst bee."

"I am wilfulle of my waye," quo' the yeoman, "And of my morning tyde:"

"Ile lead thee through the wood," sayd Robin, "Good fellow, Ile be thy guide."

"I seeke an outlawe," the straunger sayd, "Men call him Robin Hood; Rather Ild meet with that proud outlawe Than fortye pound soe good."

"Now come with me, thou wight yeman, And Robin thou soone shalt see; But first let us some pastime find Under the greenwood tree.

"First let us some masterye make Among the woods so even; We may chance to meet with Robin Hood Here att some unsett steven."

They cutt them down two summer shroggs, That grew both under a breere, And set them threescore rood in twaine, To shoote the p.r.i.c.kes y-fere.

"Leade on, good fellowe," quoth Robin Hood, "Leade on, I doe bidd thee."

"Nay, by my faith, good fellowe," hee sayd, "My leader thou shalt bee."

The first time Robin shot at the p.r.i.c.ke, He mist but an inch it fro; The yeoman he was an archer good, But he cold never shoote soe.