Chapter 5

But at last there came commandment For to set the ladies free, With their jewels still adorn-ed, None to do them injury. Then said this lady mild, "Full woe is me; O let me still sustain this kind captivity!

"Gallant captain, show some pity To a lady in distress; Leave me not within this city, For to die in heaviness: Thou hast set this present day my body free, But my heart in prison still remains with thee."

"How should'st thou, fair lady, love me, Whom thou know'st thy country's foe? Thy fair words make me suspect thee: Serpents lie where flowers grow."-- "All the harm I wish to thee, most courteous knight: God grant the same upon my head may fully light.

"Blessed be the time and season, That ye came on Spanish ground; If our foes ye may be term-ed, Gentle foes we have you found: With our city ye have won our hearts each one; Then to your country bear away that is your own."--

"Rest you still, most gallant lady; Rest you still, and weep no more; Of fair lovers there is plenty, Spain doth yield a wondrous store."-- "Spaniards fraught with jealousy we often find, But Englishmen through all the world are counted kind.

"Leave me not unto a Spaniard, You alone enjoy my heart; I am lovely, young, and tender, Love is likewise my desert: Still to serve thee day and night my mind is prest; The wife of every Englishman is counted blest."--

"It would be a shame, fair lady, For to bear a woman hence; English soldiers never carry Any such without offence."-- "I'll quickly change myself, if it be so, And like a page I'll follow thee, where'er thou go."--

"I have neither gold nor silver To maintain thee in this case, And to travel is great charges, As you know in every place."-- "My chains and jewels every one shall be thy own, And eke five hundred pounds in gold that lies unknown."

"On the seas are many dangers; Many storms do there arise, Which will be to ladies dreadful, And force tears from watery eyes."-- "Well in troth I shall endure extremity, For I could find in heart to lose my life for thee."--

"Courteous lady, leave this fancy; Here comes all that breeds the strife. I in England have already A sweet woman to my wife: I will not falsify my vow for gold nor gain, Nor yet for all the fairest dames that live in Spain."

"O how happy is that woman, That enjoys so true a friend! Many happy days God send her! Of my suit I make an end: On my knees I pardon crave for my offence, Which did from love and true affection first commence.

"Commend me to thy lovely lady. Bear to her this chain of gold, And these bracelets for a token; Grieving that I was so bold: All my jewels in like sort take thou with thee, For they are fitting for thy wife, but not for me.

"I will spend my days in prayer; Love and all her laws defy; In a nunnery will I shroud me Far from any compan-y: But ere my prayers have an end, be sure of this, To pray for thee and for thy love I will not miss.

"Thus farewell, most gallant captain! Farewell, too, my heart's content! Count not Spanish ladies wanton, Though to thee my love was bent: Joy and true prosperity go still with thee!" "The like fall ever to thy share, most fair lad-ie!"

EDWARD, EDWARD.

"Why does your brand sae drop wi' bluid, Edward, Edward? Why does your brand sae drop wi' bluid, And why sae sad gang ye, O?"-- "O, I ha'e kill-ed my hawk sae guid, Mither, mither! O, I ha'e kill-ed my hawk sae guid, And I had nae mair but he, O."-- "Your hawkis bluid was never sae reid, Edward, Edward: Your hawkis bluid was never sae reid, My dear son, I tell thee, O."--

"O, I ha'e kill-ed my reid-roan steed, Mither, mither! O, I ha'e kill-ed my reid-roan steed That erst was so fair and free, O."-- "Your steed was auld, and ye ha'e got mair, Edward, Edward: Your steed was auld, and ye ha'e got mair, Some other dule ye dree, O."-- "O, I ha'e kill-ed my father dear, Mither, mither! O, I ha'e kill-ed my father dear, Alas, and wae is me, O!"--

"And whatten pen-ance will ye dree for that, Edward, Edward? And whatten pen-ance will ye dree for that? My dear son, now tell me, O!"-- "I'll set my feet in yonder boat, Mither, mither I'll set my feet in yonder boat, And I'll fare over the sea, O."-- "And what'll ye do wi' your towers and your ha', Edward, Edward? And what'll ye do wi' your towers and your ha', That were so fair to see, O?"--

"I'll let them stand till they down fa', Mither, mither: I'll let them stand till they down fa', For here never mair maun I be, O!"-- "And what'll ye leave to your bairns and your wife, Edward, Edward? And what'll ye leave to your bairns and your wife, When ye gang over the sea, O?"-- "The warldis room, let them beg through life, Mither, mither: The warldis room, let them beg through life, For they never mair will I see, O!"

"And what'll ye leave to your ain mother dear, Edward, Edward? And what'll ye leave to your ain mother dear? My dear son, now tell me, O."-- "The curse of hell fra me sall ye bear, Mither, mither! The curse of hell fra me sall ye bear,-- Sic counsels ye gave to me, O."

ROBIN HOOD.

Lithe and listen, gentlemen, That be of freeborn blood; I shall you tell of a good yeom-an, His name was Robin Hood. Robin was a proud outlaw, Whil-es he walked on ground, So curteyse an outlawe as he was one Was never none yfound. Robin stood in Barnysdale, And leaned him to a tree, And by h-im stood Little John, A good yeom-an was he; And also did good Scath-elock, And Much the miller's son; There was no inch of his bod-y, But it was worth a groom.

Then bespake him Little John All unto Robin Hood, "Master, if ye would dine betime, It would do you much good."

Then bespak-e good Rob-in, "To dine I have no lust, Till I have some bold bar-on, Or some unketh gest, That may pay for the best; Or some knight or some squy-ere That dwelleth here by west."

A good mann-er then had Robin In land where that he were, Every day ere he would dine Three masses would he hear: The one in the worship of the Father, The other of the Holy Ghost, The third was of our dear Lady, That he loved of all other most.

Robin loved our dear Lad-y, For dout of deadly sin; Would he never do company harm That any woman was in.

"Master," then said Little John, "An we our board shall spread, Tell us whither we shall gon, And what life we shall lead; Where we shall take, where we shall leave, Where we shall bide behind, Where we shall rob, where we shall reve, Where we shall beat and bind."

"Thereof no force," then said Rob-in, "We shall do well enow; But look ye do no housbonde harm That tilleth with his plow; No more ye shall no good yeoman, That walk'th by green wood shaw, Ne no knight, ne no squy-er, That would be a good fel-aw. These bishops, and these archbishops, Ye shall them beat and bind; The high sheriff of Nottingham, Him hold in your mind."

"This word shall be holde," said Little John, "And this lesson shall we lere; It is ferr-e days, God send us a geste, That we were at our dinere!"

"Take thy good bow in thy hand," said Robin, "Let Much wend-e with thee, And so shall William Scath-elock, And no man abide with me: And walk up to the Sa-yl-es, And so to Watling Street, And wait after some unketh gest, Up-chance ye mowe them meet. Be he earl or any bar-on, Abb-ot or any knight, Bring him to lodge to me, His dinner shall be dight."

They went unto the Sa-yl-es, These yeomen all three, They look-ed east, they look-ed west, They might-e no man see. But as they looked in Barnisdale, By a dern-e street, Then came th-ere a knight rid-ing, Full soon they gan him meet. All drear-y was his semblaunce, And little was his pride, His one foot in the stirrup stood, That other waved beside. His hood hanging over his eyen two, He rode in simple array; A sorrier man than he was one Rode never in summer's day.

Little John was full curt-eyse, And set him on his knee: "Welcome be ye, gentle knight, Welc-ome are ye to me, Welcome be thou to green wood, Hende knight and free; My master hath abiden you fast-ing, Sir, all these hour-es three."

"Who is your 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 wend, My brethren all in-fere; My purpose was to have dined to-day At Blyth or Doncastere."

Forth then went this gentle knight, With a careful cheer, The tears out of his eyen ran, And fell down by his lere. They brought him unto the lodge door, When Robin gan him see, Full curteysly he did off his hood, And set him on his knee.

"Welc-ome, sir knight," then said Rob-in, "Welc-ome thou art to me; I have abiden you fasting, sir, All these hour-es three."

Then answered the gentle knight, With word-es fair and free, "God thee sav-e, good Rob-in, And all thy fair meyn-e."

They washed together and wip-ed both, And set to their dinere; Bread and wine they had enough, And numbles of the deer; Swans and pheasants they had full good, And fowls of the rivere; There fail-ed never so little a bird, That ever was bred on brere.

"Do gladly, sir knight," said Rob-in.

"Gram-ercy, sir," said he, "Such a dinner had I not Of all these week-es three; If I come again, Rob-in, Here b-y this countr-e, As good a dinner I shall thee make, As thou hast made to me."

"Gramerc-y, knight," said Rob-in, "My dinner when I have; I was never so greedy, by dere-worthy God, My dinner for to crave. But pay ere ye wend," said Rob-in, "Me thinketh it is good right; It was never the manner, by dere-worthy God, A yeoman to pay for a knight."

"I have nought in my coffers," said the knight, "That I may proffer for shame."

"Little John, go look," said Robin, "Ne let not for no blame. Tell me truth," then said Rob-in, "So God have part of thee."

"I have no more but ten shillings," said the knight, "So God have part of me!"

"If thou have no more," said Rob-in, "I will not one penn-y; And if thou have need of any more, More shall I lend thee. Go now forth, Little John, The truth tell thou me, If there be no more but ten shillings No penny of that I see."

Little John spread down his mantle Full fair upon the ground, And there he found in the knight's coff-er But even half a pound. Little John let it lie full still, And went to his master full low.

"What tiding-e, John?" said Rob-in.

"Sir, the knight is true enow."

"Fill of the best wine," said Rob-in, "The knight shall begin; Much wonder thinketh me Thy clothing is so thin. Tell me one word," said Rob-in, "And counsel shall it be; I trow thou were made a knight of force, Or else of yeomanry; Or else thou hast been a sorry housband And lived in stroke and strife; An okerer, or lechour," said Rob-in, "With wrong hast thou led thy life."

"I am none of them," said the knight, "By him that mad-e me; An hundred winter here before, Mine aunsetters knights have be. But oft it hath befal, Rob-in, A man hath be disgrate; But God that sitteth in heaven above May amend his state. Within two or three year, Robin," he said, "My neighbours well it kend, Four hundred pound of good mon-ey Full well then might I spend. Now have I no good," said the knight, "But my children and my wife; God hath shapen such an end, Till he it may amend."

"In what manner," said Rob-in, "Hast thou lore thy rich-esse?"

"For my great folly," he said, "And for my kind-enesse. I had a son, for sooth, Rob-in, That should have been my heir, When he was twenty winter old, In field would joust full fair; He slew a knight of Lancashire, And a squyer bold; For to save him in his right My goods beth set and sold; My lands beth set to wed, Rob-in, Until a certain day, To a rich abbot here beside, Of Saint Mar-y abbay."

"What is the summ-e?" said Rob-in, "Truth then tell thou me."

"Sir," he said, "four hundred pound, The abb-ot told it to me."

"Now, an thou lose thy land," said Robin, "What shall fall of thee?"

"Hastily I will me busk," said the knight, "Over the salt-e sea, And see where Christ was quick and dead, On the mount of Calvar-y. Fare well, friend, and have good day, It may no better be"--

Tears fell out of his eyen two, He would have gone his way-- "Fare well, friends, and have good day, I ne have more to pay."

"Where be thy friends?" said Rob-in.

"Sir, never one will me know; While I was rich enow at home Great boast then would they blow, And now they run away from me, As beast-es on a row; They take no more heed of me Than they me never saw."

For ruth-e then wept Little John, Scathelocke and Much also. "Fill of the best wine," said Rob-in, "For here is a simple cheer. Hast thou any friends," said Robin, "Thy borowes that will be?"

"I have none," then said the knight, "But him that died on a tree."

"Do way thy jap-es!" said Rob-in, "Thereof will I right none; Weenest thou I will have God to borowe? Peter, Paul, or John? Nay, by him that me made, And shope both sun and moon, Find a better borowe," said Robin, "Or money gettest thou none."

"I have none other," said the knight, "The sooth for to say, But if it be our dear Lad-y, She failed me ne'er ere this day."

"By dere-worthy God," then said Rob-in, "To seek all England thorowe, Yet found I never to my pay, A much better borowe. Come now forth, Little John, And go to my treasur-y, And bring me fo-ur hundred pound, And look that it well told be."

Forth then went Little John, And Scathelock went before, He told out fo-ur hundred pound, By eighteen-e score.

"Is this well told?" said Little Much.

John said, "What grieveth thee? It is alms to help a gentle knight That is fall in povert-y. Master," then said Little John, "His clothing is full thin, Ye must give the knight a liver-ay, To wrap his bod-y therein. For ye have scarl-et and green, mast-er, And many a rich array, There is no merch-ant in merry Engl-and So rich, I dare well say."

"Take him three yards of every colo-ur, And look that well mete it be."

Little John took none other meas-ure But his bow-e tree, And of every handfull that he met He leapt ouer foot-es three.

"What devilkyns draper," said Little Much, "Thinkest thou to be?"

Scathelock stood full still and lough, And said, "By God allmight, John may give him the better meas-ure, For it cost him but light."

"Master," then said Little John, All unto Robin Hood, "Ye must give that knight an horse, To lead home all this good."

"Take him a gray cours-er," said Robin, "And a saddle new; He is our Lady's messengere, God lend that he be true!"

"And a good palfr-ey," said Little Much, "To maintain him in his right."

"And a pair of boots," said Scath-elock, "For he is a gentle knight."

"What shalt thou give him, Little John?" said Robin.

"Sir, a paire of gilt spurs clene, To pray for all this company: God bringe him out of tene!"

"When shall my day be," said the knight, "Sir, an your will be?"

"This day twelve month," said Rob-in, "Under this green wood tree. It were great sham-e," said Rob-in, "A knight alone to ride, Without squy-er, yeoman or page, To walk-e by his side. I shall thee lend Little Johan my man, For he shall be thy knave; In a yeoman's stead he may thee stand If thou great need have."

THE SECONDE FYTTE.

Now is the knight went on his way, This game he thought full good, When he looked on Barnisdale, He bless-ed Robin Hood; And when he thought on Barnisdale On Scathelock, Much, and John, He blessed them for the best compan-y That ever he in come.

Then spake that gentle knight, To Little John gan he say, "To-morrow I must to York town, To Saint Mar-y abbay; And to the abbot of that place Four hundred pound I must pay: And but I be there upon this night My land is lost for aye."

The abbot said to his conv-ent, There he stood on ground, "This day twelve month came there a knight And borrowed four hundred pound Upon all his land free, But he come this ilk-e day Disherited shall he be."

"It is full early," said the prior, "The day is not yet far gone, I had liever to pay an hundred pound, And lay it down anone. The knight is far beyond the sea, In England is his right, And suffereth hung-er and cold And many a sorry night: It were great pity," said the prior, "So to have his lond; An ye be so light of your consci-ence, Ye do to him much is wrong."

"Thou art ever in my beard," said the abb-ot, "By God and Saint Rich-ard!"

With that came in a fat-headed monk, The high cellarer; "He is dead or hang-ed," said the monk, "By him that bought me dear, And we shall have to spend in this place Four hundred pound by year."

The abbot and the high cellarer, Stert-e forth full bold.

The high justice of Englond The abb-ot there did hold; The high just-ice and many mo Had take into their hond Wholly all the knight-es debt, To put that knight to wrong. They deemed the knight wonder sore, The abb-ot and his meyn-e: "But he come this ilk-e day Disherited shall he be."

"He will not come yet," said the just-ice, "I dare well undertake."

But in sorrow-e tim-e for them all The knight came to the gate. Then bespake that gentle knight Unto his meyn-e, "Now put on your simple weeds That ye brought from the sea." And cam-e to the gates anone, The porter was ready himself, And welcom-ed them every one.

"Welc-ome, sir knyght," said the port-er, "My lord to meat is he, And so is many a gentle man, For the love of thee." The porter swore a full great oath, "By him that mad-e me, Here be the best cores-ed horse That ever yet saw I me. Lead them into the stable," he said, "That eas-ed might they be."

"They shall not come therein," said the knight, "By him that died on a tree."

Lord-es were to meat iset In that abb-ot-es hall, The knight went forth and kneel-ed down, And salved them great and small. "Do gladly, sir abb-ot," said the knight, "I am come to hold my day."

The first word the abbot spake, "Hast th-ou brought m-y pay?"

"Not one penny," said the knight, "By him that mak-ed me."

"Thou art a shrewd debtor!" said the abb-ot; "Sir justice, drink to me! What dost thou here," said the abb-ot, "But thou hadst brought thy pay?"

"For-e God," then said the knight, "To pray of a longer day."

"Thy day is broke," said the justice, "Land gettest thou none."

"Now, good sir justice, be my friend, And fend me of my fone."

"I am hold with the abbot," said the justice, "Both with cloth and fee."

"Now, good sir sheriff, be my friend."

"Nay, for-e God," said he.

"Now, good sir abbot, be my friend, For thy curteys-e, And hold my land-es in thy hand Till I have made thee gree; And I will be thy true serv-ant, And truly serv-e thee, Till ye have fo-ur hundred pound Of money good and free."

The abbot sware a full great oath, "By him that died on a tree, Get the land where thou may, For thou gettest none of me."

"By dere-worthy God," then said the knight, "That all this world wrought, But I have my land again, Full dear it shall be bought; God, that was of a maiden borne, Lene us well to speed! For it is good to assay a friend Ere that a man have need."

The abb-ot loathl-y on him gan look, And villainousl-y gan call; "Out," he said, "thou fals-e knight! Speed thee out of my hall!"

"Thou liest," then said the gentle knight, "Abbot in thy hall; Fals-e knight was I nev-er, By him that made us all."

Up then stood that gentle knight, To the abb-ot said he, "To suffer a knight to kneel so long, Thou canst no courtes-y. In joust-es and in tournem-ent Full far then have I be, And put myself as far in press As any that e'er I see."

"What will ye give more?" said the just-ice, "And the knight shall make a release; And ell-es dare I safely swear Ye hold never your land in peace."

"An hundred pound," said the abb-ot.

The justice said, "Give him two."

"Na-y, by God," said the knight, "Yet get ye it not so: Though ye would give a thousand more, Yet were thou never the nere; Shall there never be mine heir, Abb-ot, just-ice, ne frere."

He stert him to a board anon, To a table round, And there he shook out of a bag Even fo-ur hundred pound.

"Have here thy gold, sir abb-ot," said the knight, "Which that thou lentest me; Haddest thou been curteys at my com-ing, Rewarded shouldst thou have be." The abb-ot sat still, and ate no more. For all his royal cheer, He cast his hood on his should-er, And fast began to stare. "Take me my gold again," said the abb-ot, "Sir just-ice, that I took thee."

"Not a penny," said the just-ice, "By him that died on a tree."