Part 4

202. ‘Thou shalt swere me an othe,’ sayde Robyn, ‘On my bright bronde; Shalt thou never awayte me scathe By water ne by lande.

203. ‘And if thou fynde any of my men, By nyght or by day, Upon thyn othë thou shalt swere To helpe them that thou may.’

204. Now hath the sherif sworne his othe, And home he began to gone; He was as full of grenë-wode As ever was hepe of stone.

[Annotations: 145.2: ‘shete,’ shoot. 145.3: ‘fet,’ fetched. 148.1: ‘wight,’ strong, active. 148.4: ‘wonynge wane’: both words mean dwelling or habitation. 153.4: To give him his full reward. 154.2: ‘leutye,’ loyalty. 155.4: ‘foriete,’ forgotten. 160.4: ‘go’ = walk. 161.3: ‘lyveray,’ purveyance. 168.2: ‘Two mylë way’ = the time it takes to go two miles. See _Early English Lyrics_, cxxvi. 55, and note. 168.4: ‘mountnaunce,’ duration. 172.2: ‘nowmbles,’ entrails: cf. 32.4. 175.3: ‘Pecis,’ cups; ‘masars,’ bowls. 177.2: Cf. _Child Waters_, 2.2 (First Series, p. 37). 183.2: See 177.2 and note. 183.3: ‘shryef’ may be a misprint, but ‘shreeve’ is another spelling of ‘sheriff.’ 185.4: ‘bydene,’ together. 186.1: ‘tyndes’ = tynes, forks of the antlers. 186.4: ‘slo,’ slay. 194.3: ‘toke,’ gave. 198.2: ‘ankir,’ anchorite, hermit. 200.1: ‘Or,’ ere. 202.3: ‘awayte me scathe,’ lie in wait to do me harm. 204.4: _i.e._ as ever a hip (berry of the wild rose) is of its stone.]

THE FOURTH FYTTE (205-280)

+Argument.+--Robin Hood will not dine until he has ‘his pay,’ and he therefore sends Little John with Much and Scarlok to wait for an ‘unketh gest.’ They capture a monk of St. Mary Abbey, and Robin Hood makes him disgorge eight hundred pounds. The monk, we are told, was on his way to London to take proceedings against the knight.

In due course the knight, who was left at the end of the second fytte at the wrestling-match, arrives to pay his debt to Robin Hood; who, however, refuses to receive it, saying that Our Lady had discharged the loan already.

The admirable, naïvely-told episode of Our Lady’s method of repaying money lent on her security, is not without parallels, some of which Child points out (III. 53-4).

THE FOURTH FYTTE

205. The sherif dwelled in Notingham; He was fayne he was agone; And Robyn and his mery men Went to wode anone.

206. ‘Go we to dyner,’ sayde Littell Johnn; Robyn Hode sayde, ‘Nay; For I drede Our Lady be wroth with me, For she sent me nat my pay.’

207. ‘Have no doute, maister,’ sayde Litell Johnn; ‘Yet is nat the sonne at rest; For I dare say, and savely swere. The knight is true and truste.’

208. ‘Take thy bowe in thy hande,’ sayde Robyn, ‘Late Much wende with thee, And so shal Wyllyam Scarlok, And no man abyde with me.

209. ‘And walke up under the Sayles, And to Watlynge-strete, And wayte after some unketh gest; Up chaunce ye may them mete.

210. ‘Whether he be messengere, Or a man that myrthës can, Of my good he shall have some, Yf he be a porë man.’

211. Forth then stert Lytel Johan, Half in tray and tene, And gyrde hym with a full good swerde, Under a mantel of grene.

212. They went up to the Sayles, These yemen all thre; They loked est, they loked west, They myght no man se.

213. But as they loked in Bernysdale, By the hyë waye, Than were they ware of two blacke monkes, Eche on a good palferay.

214. Then bespake Lytell Johan, To Much he gan say, ‘I dare lay my lyfe to wedde, That these monkes have brought our pay.

215. ‘Make glad chere,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘And frese your bowes of ewe, And loke your hertes be seker and sad, Your strynges trusty and trewe.

216. ‘The monke hath two and fifty men, And seven somers full stronge; There rydeth no bysshop in this londe So ryally, I understond.

217. ‘Brethern,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘Here are no more but we thre; But we bryngë them to dyner, Our mayster dare we not se.

218. ‘Bende your bowes,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘Make all yon prese to stonde; The formost monke, his lyfe and his deth Is closëd in my honde.

219. ‘Abyde, chorle monke,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘No ferther that thou gone; Yf thou doost, by dere worthy God, Thy deth is in my honde.

220. ‘And evyll thryfte on thy hede,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘Ryght under thy hattë’s bonde, For thou hast made our mayster wroth, He is fastynge so longe.’

221. ‘Who is your mayster?’ sayd the monke. Lytell Johan sayd, ‘Robyn Hode.’ ‘He is a stronge thefe,’ sayd the monke, ‘Of hym herd I never good.’

222. ‘Thou lyest,’ than sayd Lytell Johan, ‘And that shall rewë thee; He is a yeman of the forest, To dyne he hath bodë thee.’

223. Much was redy with a bolte, Redly and anone, He set the monke to-fore the brest, To the grounde that he can gone.

224. Of two and fyfty wyght yonge yemen, There abode not one, Saf a lytell page and a grome, To lede the somers with Lytel Johan.

225. They brought the monke to the lodgë-dore, Whether he were loth or lefe, For to speke with Robyn Hode, Maugre in theyr tethe.

226. Robyn dyde adowne his hode, The monke whan that he se; The monke was not so curteyse, His hode then let he be.

227. ‘He is a chorle, mayster, by dere worthy God,’ Than sayd Lytell Johan. ‘Thereof no force,’ sayd Robyn, ‘For curteysy can he none.

228. ‘How many men,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Had this monke, Johan?’ ‘Fyfty and two whan that we met, But many of them be gone.’

229. ‘Let blowe a horne,’ sayd Robyn, ‘That felaushyp may us knowe.’ Seven score of wyght yemen, Came pryckynge on a rowe.

230. And everych of them a good mantell Of scarlet and of raye; All they came to good Robyn, To wyte what he wolde say.

231. They made the monke to wasshe and wype, And syt at his denere. Robyn Hode and Lytell Johan They served him both in fere.

232. ‘Do gladly, monke,’ sayd Robyn. ‘Gramercy, syr,’ sayd he. ‘Where is your abbay, whan ye are at home, And who is your avowë?’

233. ‘Saynt Mary abbay,’ sayd the monke, ‘Though I be symple here.’ ‘In what offyce?’ said Robyn: ‘Syr, the hye selerer.’

234. ‘Ye be the more welcome,’ sayd Robyn, ‘So ever mote I the! Fyll of the best wyne,’ sayd Robyn, ‘This monke shall drynke to me.

235. ‘But I have grete mervayle,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Of all this longë day; I drede Our Lady be wroth with me, She sent me not my pay.’

236. ‘Have no doute, mayster,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘Ye have no nede, I saye; This monke hath brought it, I dare well swere, For he is of her abbay.’

237. ‘And she was a borowe,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Betwene a knyght and me, Of a lytell money that I hym lent, Under the grene-wode tree.

238. ‘And yf thou hast that sylver ibrought, I pray thee let me se; And I shall helpë thee eftsones, Yf thou have nede to me.’

239. The monke swore a full grete othe, With a sory chere, ‘Of the borowehode thou spekest to me, Herde I never ere.’

240. ‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Monke, thou art to blame; For God is holde a ryghtwys man, And so is his dame.

241. ‘Thou toldest with thyn ownë tonge, Thou may not say nay, How thou arte her servaunt, And servest her every day.

242. ‘And thou art made her messengere, My money for to pay; Therefore I cun the morë thanke Thou arte come at thy day.

243. ‘What is in your cofers?’ sayd Robyn, ‘Trewe than tell thou me.’ ‘Syr,’ he sayd, ‘twenty marke, Al so mote I the.’

244. ‘Yf there be no more,’ sayd Robyn, ‘I wyll not one peny; Yf thou hast myster of ony more, Syr, more I shall lende to thee.

245. ‘And yf I fyndë more,’ sayd Robyn, ‘I-wys thou shalte it forgone; For of thy spendynge-sylver, monke, Thereof wyll I ryght none.

246. ‘Go nowe forthe, Lytell Johan, And the trouth tell thou me; If there be no more but twenty marke, No peny that I se.’

247. Lytell Johan spred his mantell downe, As he had done before, And he tolde out of the monkës male Eyght hondred pounde and more.

248. Lytell Johan let it lye full styll, And went to his mayster in hast; ‘Syr,’ he sayd, ‘the monke is trewe ynowe, Our Lady hath doubled your cast.’

249. ‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn-- ‘Monke, what tolde I thee?-- Our Lady is the trewest woman That ever yet founde I me.

250. ‘By dere worthy God,’ sayd Robyn, ‘To seche all Englond thorowe, Yet founde I never to my pay A moche better borowe.

251. ‘Fyll of the best wyne, and do hym drynke,’ sayd Robyn, ‘And grete well thy lady hende, And yf she have nede to Robyn Hode, A frende she shall hym fynde.

252. ‘And yf she nedeth ony more sylver, Come thou agayne to me, And, by this token she hath me sent, She shall have such thre.’

253. The monke was goynge to London ward, There to hold grete mote, The knyght that rode so hye on hors, To brynge hym under fote.

254. ‘Whether be ye away?’ sayd Robyn. ‘Syr, to maners in this londe, To reken with our reves, That have done moch wronge.’

255. ‘Come now forth, Lytell Johan, And harken to my tale; A better yemen I knowe none, To seke a monkës male.’

256. ‘How moch is in yonder other corser?’ sayd Robyn, ‘The soth must we see.’ ‘By Our Lady,’ than sayd the monke, ‘That were no curteysye,

257. ‘To bydde a man to dyner, And syth hym bete and bynde.’ ‘It is our olde maner,’ sayd Robyn, ‘To leve but lytell behynde.’

258. The monke toke the hors with spore, No lenger wolde he abyde: ‘Askë to drynke,’ than sayd Robyn, ‘Or that ye forther ryde.’

259. ‘Nay, for God,’ than sayd the monke, ‘Me reweth I cam so nere; For better chepe I myght have dyned In Blythe or in Dankestere.’

260. ‘Grete well your abbot,’ sayd Robyn, ‘And your pryour, I you pray, And byd hym send me such a monke To dyner every day.’

261. Now lete we that monke be styll, And speke we of that knyght: Yet he came to holde his day, Whyle that it was lyght.

262. He dyde him streyt to Bernysdale, Under the grene-wode tre, And he founde there Robyn Hode, And all his mery meynë.

263. The knyght lyght doune of his good palfray, Robyn whan he gan see; So curteysly he dyde adoune his hode, And set hym on his knee.

264. ‘God the savë, Robyn Hode, And all this company!’ ‘Welcome be thou, gentyll knyght, And ryght welcome to me.’

265. Than bespake hym Robyn Hode, To that knyght so fre; ‘What nede dryveth thee to grene-wode? I praye thee, syr knyght, tell me.

266. ‘And welcome be thou, gentyll knyght, Why hast thou be so longe?’ ‘For the abbot and the hye justyce Wolde have had my londe.’

267. ‘Hast thou thy londe agayne?’ sayd Robyn; ‘Treuth than tell thou me.’ ‘Ye, for God,’ sayd the knyght, ‘And that thanke I God and thee.

268. ‘But take no grefe, that I have be so longe; I came by a wrastelynge, And there I holpe a pore yeman, With wronge was put behynde.’

269. ‘Nay, for God,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Syr knyght, that thanke I thee; What man that helpeth a good yeman, His frende than wyll I be.’

270. ‘Have here foure hondred pounde,’ than sayd the knyght, ‘The whiche ye lent to me; And here is also twenty marke For your curteysy.’

271. ‘Nay, for God,’ than sayd Robyn, ‘Thou broke it well for ay; For Our Lady, by her hye selerer, Hath sent to me my pay.

272. ‘And yf I toke it i-twyse, A shame it were to me; But trewely, gentyll knyght, Welcome arte thou to me.’

273. Whan Robyn had tolde his tale, He leugh and had good chere: ‘By my trouthe,’ then sayd the knyght, ‘Your money is redy here.’

274. ‘Broke it well,’ said Robyn, ‘Thou gentyll knyght so fre; And welcome be thou, gentyll knyght, Under my trystell-tre.

275. ‘But what shall these bowës do?’ sayd Robyn, ‘And these arowes ifedred fre?’ ‘By God,’ than sayd the knyght, ‘A pore present to thee.’

276. ‘Come now forth, Lytell Johan, And go to my treasurë, And brynge me there foure hondred pounde, The monke over-tolde it me.

277. ‘Have here foure hondred pounde, Thou gentyll knyght and trewe, And bye hors and havnes good, And gylte thy spores all newe.

278. ‘And yf thou fayle ony spendynge, Com to Robyn Hode, And by my trouth thou shalt none fayle, The whyles I have any good.

279. ‘And broke well thy foure hondred pound, Whiche I lent to the, And make thy selfe no more so bare, By the counsell of me.’

280. Thus than holpe hym good Robyn, The knyght all of his care: God, that syt in heven hye, Graunte us well to fare!

[Annotations: 208., 209.: A repetition of 17 and 18. 211.2: ‘tray and tene,’ grief and vexation. 213.: _i.e._ Benedictines. 214.3: ‘wedde,’ wager. 215.2: ‘frese’ occurs nowhere else, and its meaning is unknown. 215.3: ‘seker and sad,’ resolute and staunch. 216.2: ‘somers’ = sumpters, pack-horses. 218.2: ‘prese,’ crowd. 225.2: ‘lefe,’ pleased, willing. 225.4: ‘Maugre,’ in spite of. 227.3: ‘no force,’ no matter. 229.2: ‘felaushyp’ = our fellows. 230.2: ‘raye,’ striped cloth. 232.4: ‘avowë,’ patron. 234.2: A common form of asseveration = ‘upon my life’; ‘the’ = thrive. Cf. 243.4. 237.1: ‘borowe,’ security. 239.2: ‘chere,’ countenance. 243.4: See 234.2 and note. 244.3: ‘myster,’ need. 247.3: ‘male,’ trunk. See 134.2 and 374.1. 250.3: ‘pay,’ liking. 251.2: ‘hende,’ gracious. 253.2: ‘mote,’ meeting. 254.3: ‘reves,’ bailiffs. 256.1: ‘corser,’ coffer (?). 271.2: ‘broke,’ enjoy. Cf. 274.3 and 279.3. 273.2: ‘leugh,’ laughed. 275.2: ‘ifedred,’ feathered.]

THE FIFTH FYTTE (281-316)

+Argument.+--The story now returns to the Sheriff of Nottingham, and relates how he offered a prize for the best archer in the north. Robin Hood, hearing of this match, determines to go to it, and to test the sheriff’s faith to his oath (see the Third Fytte, stt. 202-4). Robin wins the prize, and is starting home to the greenwood, when the sheriff recognises and attacks him, but is beaten off by a shower of arrows. Robin and his men retire, shooting as they go, until they come to a castle. Here dwells the knight to whom Robin had lent the money--‘Sir Richard at the Lee.’ He takes in Robin and his men, and defies the sheriff; Robin, he says, shall spend forty days with him.

This fytte is no doubt based on some single lost ballad of a shooting-match at which Robin was victorious, and at which the Sheriff of Nottingham attempted in vain to arrest him. But the compiler of the _Gest_ has carefully linked it to the preceding fyttes by such references as Robin’s determination to try the sheriff’s faith (st. 287), which is made clear in stt. 296-8; and the identification of the knight whose castle protects Robin and his men with the knight to whom the money had been lent (stt. 310-312).

THE FIFTH FYTTE

281. Now hath the knyght his leve i-take, And wente hym on his way; Robyn Hode and his mery men Dwelled styll full many a day.

282. Lyth and listen, gentil men, And herken what I shall say, How the proud sheryfe of Notyngham Dyde crye a full fayre play;

283. That all the best archers of the north Sholde come upon a day, And he that shoteth allther best The game shall bere away.

284. He that shoteth allther best, Furthest fayre and lowe, At a payre of fynly buttes, Under the grene wode shawe,

285. A ryght good arowe he shall have, The shaft of sylver whyte, The hede and feders of ryche rede golde, In Englond is none lyke.

286. This than herde good Robyn Under his trystell-tre: ‘Make you redy, ye wyght yonge men; That shotynge wyll I se.

287. ‘Buske you, my mery yonge men; Ye shall go with me; And I wyll wete the shryvës fayth, Trewe and yf he be.’

288. Whan they had theyr bowes i-bent, Theyr takles fedred fre, Seven score of wyght yonge men Stode by Robyn’s kne.

289. Whan they cam to Notyngham, The buttes were fayre and longe; Many was the bolde archere That shoted with bowës stronge.

290. ‘There shall but syx shote with me; The other shal kepe my hevede, And standë with good bowës bent, That I be not desceyved.’

291. The fourth outlawe his bowe gan bende, And that was Robyn Hode, And that behelde the proud sheryfe, All by the but as he stode.

292. Thryës Robyn shot about, And alway he slist the wand, And so dyde good Gylberte With the whytë hande.

293. Lytell Johan and good Scatheloke Were archers good and fre; Lytell Much and good Reynolde, The worste wolde they not be.

294. Whan they had shot aboute, These archours fayre and good, Evermore was the best, For soth, Robyn Hode.

295. Hym was delyvred the good arowe, For best worthy was he; He toke the yeft so curteysly; To grenë-wode wolde he.

296. They cryed out on Robyn Hode, And grete hornës gan they blowe: ‘Wo worth the, treason!’ sayd Robyn, ‘Full evyl thou art to knowe.

297. ‘And wo be thou, thou proudë sheryf, Thus gladdynge thy gest! Other wyse thou behotë me In yonder wylde forest.

298. ‘But had I thee in grenë-wode, Under my trystell-tre, Thou sholdest leve me a better wedde Than thy trewe lewtë.’

299. Full many a bowë there was bent, And arowës let they glyde; Many a kyrtell there was rent, And hurt many a syde.

300. The outlawes shot was so stronge That no man might them dryve, And the proud sheryfës men, They fled away full blyve.

301. Robyn sawe the busshement to-broke, In grene wode he wolde have be; Many an arowe there was shot Amonge that company.

302. Lytell Johan was hurte full sore, With an arowe in his kne, That he myght neyther go nor ryde; It was full grete pytë.

303. ‘Mayster,’ then sayd Lytell Johan, ‘If ever thou lovedst me, And for that ylkë lordës love That dyed upon a tre,

304. ‘And for the medes of my servyce, That I have servëd thee, Lete never the proudë sheryf Alyve now fyndë me.

305. ‘But take out thy brownë swerde, And smyte all of my hede, And gyve me woundës depe and wyde; No lyfe on me be lefte.’

306. ‘I wolde not that,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Johan, that thou were slawe, For all the golde in mery Englonde, Though it lay now on a rawe.’

307. ‘God forbede,’ sayd Lytell Much, ‘That dyed on a tre, That thou sholdest, Lytell Johan, Parte our company.’

308. Up he toke hym on his backe, And bare hym well a myle; Many a tyme he layd him downe, And shot another whyle.

309. Then was there a fayre castell, A lytell within the wode; Double-dyched it was about, And walled, by the rode.

310. And there dwelled that gentyll knyght, Syr Rychard at the Lee, That Robyn had lent his good, Under the grene-wode tree.

311. In he toke good Robyn, And all his company: ‘Welcome be thou, Robyn Hode, Welcome arte thou to me;

312. ‘And moche I thanke thee of thy comfort, And of thy curteysye, And of thy gretë kyndënesse, Under the grene-wode tre.

313. ‘I love no man in all this worlde So much as I do thee; For all the proud sheryf of Notyngham, Ryght here shalt thou be.

314. ‘Shyt the gates, and drawe the brydge, And let no man come in, And arme you well, and make you redy, And to the walles ye wynne.

315. ‘For one thynge, Robyn, I the behote; I swere by Saynt Quyntyne, These forty dayes thou wonnest with me, To soupe, ete, and dyne.’

316. Bordes were layde, and clothes were spredde, Redely and anone; Robyn Hode and his mery men To mete can they gone.

[Annotations: 282.4: ‘dyde’ = caused to: cf. ‘do you to wit.’ --Gummere. 283.3: ‘allther best,’ best of all: cp. 9.4. 284.3: ‘fynly,’ goodly. 287.3: ‘wete,’ know. 287.4: ‘and yf’ = [*] 288.2: ‘fedred fre,’ fully feathered. 290.2: ‘hevede’ = head, _i.e._ life. 292.2: ‘slist,’ sliced, split. 295.3: ‘yeft,’ gift, prize. 297.3: ‘behotë,’ didst promise. 298.3: ‘wedde,’ forfeit. 298.4: ‘lewtë,’ loyalty, faith. 300.4: ‘blyve,’ quickly. 301.1: ‘busshement,’ ambuscade: ‘to-broke,’ broken up. 304.1: ‘medes,’ wages. 306.4: ‘on a rawe,’ in a row; cf. 60.2. 315.1: ‘behote,’ promise; cf. 297.3. 315.3: ‘wonnest,’ dwellest.]

THE SIXTH FYTTE (317-353)

+Argument.+--The Sheriff of Nottingham secures the assistance of the High Sheriff, and besets the knight’s castle, accusing him of harbouring the king’s enemies. The knight bids him appeal to the king, saying he will ‘avow’ (_i.e._ make good or justify) all he has done, on the pledge of all his lands. The sheriffs raise the siege and go to London, where the king says he will be at Nottingham in two weeks and will capture both the knight and Robin Hood. The sheriff returns home to get together a band of archers to assist the king; but meanwhile Robin has escaped to the greenwood. However, the sheriff lies in wait for the knight, captures him and takes him bound to Nottingham. The knight’s lady rides to Robin and begs him to save her lord; whereupon Robin and his men hasten to Nottingham, kill the sheriff, release the knight, and carry him off to the greenwood.

The latter episode--of Robin’s release, at the request of his wife, of a knight taken captive by the sheriff--comes probably from a separate ballad: _Robin Hood rescuing Three Squires_ tells a similar story. This the compiler of the _Gest_ has apparently woven in with the story of the previous fyttes, though he has not done so very thoroughly (_e.g._, the inconsistency of Robin’s question to the knight’s wife, ‘What man hath your lord i-take?’ with his knowledge of the knight’s defiance of the sheriff). The compiler has also neatly prepared the way for the introduction of the seventh and eighth fyttes by the knight’s appeal to the king; but, having done so, he has apparently forgotten the king’s undertaking to come to Nottingham, and has allowed the sheriff to anticipate that plan and capture the knight without assistance.

THE SIXTH FYTTE

317. Lythe and lysten, gentylmen, And herkyn to your songe; Howe the proudë shyref of Notyngham, And men of armys stronge,

318. Full fast cam to the hyë shyref, The contrë up to route, And they besette the knyghtës castell, The wallës all aboute.

319. The proudë shyref loude gan crye, And sayde, ‘Thou traytour knight, Thou kepest here the kynges enemys, Agaynst the lawe and right.’

320. ‘Syr, I wyll avowe that I have done, The dedys that here be dyght, Upon all the landës that I have, As I am a trewë knyght.

321. ‘Wende furth, sirs, on your way, And do no more to me Tyll ye wyt oure kyngës wille, What he wyll say to thee.’

322. The shyref thus had his answere, Without any lesynge; Forth he yede to London towne, All for to tel our kinge.

323. Ther he telde him of that knight, And eke of Robyn Hode, And also of the bolde archars, That were soo noble and gode.

324. ‘He wyll avowe that he hath done, To mayntene the outlawes stronge; He wyll be lorde, and set you at nought, In all the northe londe.’

325. ‘I wil be at Notyngham,’ sayde our kynge, ‘Within this fourteennyght, And take I wyll Robyn Hode And so I wyll that knight.