Part 5

326. ‘Go nowe home, shyref,’ sayde our kynge, ‘And do as I byd thee; And ordeyn gode archers ynowe, Of all the wyde contrë.’

327. The shyref had his leve i-take, And went hym on his way; And Robyn Hode to grenë wode, Upon a certen day.

328. And Lytel John was hole of the arowe That shot was in his kne, And dyd hym streyght to Robyn Hode, Under the grene wode tree.

329. Robyn Hode walked in the forest, Under the levys grene; The proud shyref of Notyngham Thereof he had grete tene.

330. The shyref there fayled of Robyn Hode, He myght not have his pray; Than he awayted this gentyll knyght, Bothe by nyght and day.

331. Ever he wayted the gentyll knyght, Syr Richarde at the Lee, As he went on haukynge by the ryver-syde And lete his haukës flee.

332. Toke he there this gentyll knight, With men of armys stronge, And led hym to Notynghamwarde, Bounde bothe fote and hande.

333. The sheref sware a full grete othe, Bi him that dyed on rode, He had lever than an hundred pound That he had Robyn Hode.

334. This harde the knyghtës wyfe, A fayr lady and a free; She set hir on a gode palfrey, To grene wode anone rode she.

335. Whanne she cam in the forest, Under the grene wode tree, Fonde she there Robyn Hode, And all his fayre menë.

336. ‘God thee savë, gode Robyn, And all thy company; For Our derë Ladyes sake, A bonë graunte thou me.

337. ‘Late never my wedded lorde Shamefully slayne be; He is fast bowne to Notinghamwarde, For the love of thee.’

338. Anone than saide goode Robyn To that lady so fre, ‘What man hath your lorde ytake?’ [‘The proude shirife,’ than sayd she.

339. ‘You may them overtake, Robyn,] For soth as I thee say; He is nat yet thre mylës Passed on his way.’

340. Up than sterte gode Robyn, As man that had ben wode: ‘Buske you, my mery men, For hym that dyed on rode.

341. ‘And he that this sorowe forsaketh, By hym that dyed on tre, Shall he never in grenë wode No lenger dwel with me.’

342. Sone there were gode bowës bent, Mo than seven score; Hedge ne dyche spared they none That was them before.

343. ‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayde Robyn, ‘The sherif wolde I fayne see; And if I may him take, I-quyt then shall he be.’

344. And when they came to Notingham, They walked in the strete; And with the proudë sherif i-wys Sonë can they mete.

345. ‘Abyde, thou proudë sherif,’ he sayde, ‘Abyde, and speke with me; Of some tidinges of oure kinge I wolde fayne here of thee.

346. ‘This seven yere, by dere worthy God, Ne yede I this fast on fote; I make myn avowe to God, thou proudë sherif, It is not for thy gode.’

347. Robyn bent a full goode bowe, An arrowe he drowe at wyll; He hit so the proudë sherife Upon the grounde he lay full still.

348. And or he myght up aryse, On his fete to stonde, He smote of the sherifs hede With his brightë bronde.

349. ‘Lye thou there, thou proudë sherife; Evyll mote thou cheve! There myght no man to thee truste The whyles thou were a lyve.’

350. His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes, That were so sharpe and kene, And layde on the sheryves men, And dryved them downe bydene.

351. Robyn stert to that knyght, And cut a two his bonde, And toke hym in his hand a bowe, And bad hym by hym stonde.

352. ‘Leve thy hors thee behynde, And lerne for to renne; Thou shalt with me to grenë wode, Through myrë, mosse, and fenne.

353. ‘Thou shalt with me to grenë wode, Without ony leasynge, Tyll that I have gete us grace Of Edwarde, our comly kynge.’

[Annotations: 320.2: ‘dyght,’ concerted. 322.3: ‘yede,’ went. 326.3: ‘ordeyn,’ levy, summon. 328.: See st. 302. 329.4: ‘tene,’ anger. ‘Thereof’ means ‘of Robin’s escape.’ 333.3: ‘lever,’ rather. 334.1: ‘harde,’ = heard. 336.4: ‘bone,’ boon. 338.4, 339.1: supplied from later versions. 340.2: ‘wode,’ mad. 346.2: ‘this’ = thus. 348.1: ‘And or’ = ere. 349.2: ‘cheve,’ gain, win. 350.4: ‘bydene,’ one after another. 351.3: ‘toke,’ gave.]

THE SEVENTH FYTTE (354-417)

+Argument.+--The king, coming with a great array to Nottingham to take Robin Hood and the knight, and finding nothing but a great scarcity of deer, is wondrous wroth, and promises the knight’s lands to any one who will bring him his head. For half a year the king has no news of Robin; at length, at the suggestion of a forester, he disguises himself as an abbot and five of his men as monks, and goes into the greenwood. He is met and stopped by Robin Hood, gives up forty pounds to him, and alleges he is a messenger from the king. Thereupon Robin entertains him and his men on the king’s own deer, and the outlaws hold an archery competition, Robin smiting those that miss. At his last shot, Robin himself misses, and asks the abbot to smite him in his turn. The abbot gives him such a buffet that Robin is nearly felled; on looking more closely, he recognises the king, of whom he and his men ask pardon on their knees. The king grants it, on condition that they will enter his service. Robin agrees, but reserves the right to return to the greenwood if he mislikes the court.

This fytte is based on the story, extremely common and essentially popular, especially in England, of a meeting between a king in disguise and one of his subjects. Doubtless there was a ballad of Robin Hood and the king; but the only one we possess, _The King’s Disguise and Friendship with Robin Hood_, is a late and a loose paraphrase of this fytte and the next. The commonest stories and ballads of this type in English are _The King and the Barker_ (_i.e._ Tanner), _King Edward the Fourth and the Tanner of Tamworth_, _King James and the Tinker_, and _King Henry II. and the Miller of Mansfield_. Usually the point of the story is the lack of ceremony displayed by the subject, and the royal good-humour and largesse of the king.

There is only an arbitrary division between Fyttes VII. and VIII.; and one or two other points will be discussed in introducing the next and last fytte.

THE SEVENTH FYTTE

354. The kynge came to Notynghame, With knyghtës in grete araye, For to take that gentyll knyght And Robyn Hode, and yf he may.

355. He askëd men of that countrë After Robyn Hode, And after that gentyll knyght, That was so bolde and stout.

356. Whan they had tolde hym the case Our kynge understode ther tale, And seased in his honde The knyghtës londës all.

357. All the passe of Lancasshyre He went both ferre and nere, Tyll he came to Plomton Parke; He faylyd many of his dere.

358. There our kynge was wont to se Herdës many one, He coud unneth fynde one dere, That bare ony good home.

359. The kynge was wonder wroth withall, And swore by the Trynytë, ‘I wolde I had Robyn Hode, With eyen I myght hym se.

360. ‘And he that wolde smyte of the knyghtës hede, And brynge it to me, He shall have the knyghtës londes, Syr Rycharde at the Le.

361. ‘I gyve it hym with my charter, And sele it with my honde, To have and holde for ever more, In all mery Englonde.’

362. Than bespake a fayre olde knyght, That was treue in his fay: ‘A, my leegë lorde the kynge, One worde I shall you say.

363. ‘There is no man in this countrë May have the knyghtës londes, Whyle Robyn Hode may ryde or gone, And bere a bowe in his hondes,

364. ‘That he ne shall lese his hede, That is the best ball in his hode: Give it no man, my lorde the kynge, That ye wyll any good.’

365. Half a yere dwelled our comly kynge In Notyngham, and well more; Coude he not here of Robyn Hode, In what countrë that he were.

366. But alway went good Robyn By halke and eke by hyll, And alway slewe the kyngës dere, And welt them at his wyll.

367. Than bespake a proude fostere, That stode by our kyngës kne: ‘Yf ye wyll see good Robyn, Ye must do after me.

368. ‘Take fyve of the best knyghtes That be in your lede, And walke downe by yon abbay, And gete you monkës wede.

369. ‘And I wyll be your ledes-man, And lede you the way, And or ye come to Notyngham, Myn hede then dare I lay,

370. ‘That ye shall mete with good Robyn, On lyve yf that he be; Or ye come to Notyngham, With eyen ye shall hym se.’

371. Full hastely our kynge was dyght, were his knyghtës fyve, Everych of them in monkës wede, And hasted them thyder blyve.

372. Our kynge was grete above his cole, A brode hat on his crowne, Ryght as he were abbot-lyke, They rode up into the towne.

373. Styf botës our kynge had on, Forsoth as I you say; He rode syngynge to grenë wode; The covent was clothed in graye.

374. His male-hors and his grete somers Folowed our kynge behynde, Tyll they came to grene wode, A myle under the lynde.

375. There they met with good Robyn, Stondynge on the waye, And so dyde many a bolde archere, For soth as I you say.

376. Robyn toke the kyngës hors, Hastely in that stede, And sayd, ‘Syr abbot, by your leve, A whyle ye must abyde.

377. ‘We be yemen of this foreste, Under the grene-wode tre; We lyve by our kyngës dere, Other shyft have not we.

378. ‘And ye have chyrches and rentës both, And gold full grete plentë; Gyve us some of your spendynge, For saynt charytë.’

379. Than bespake our cumly kynge, Anone than sayd he; ‘I brought no more to grene-wode But forty pounde with me.

380. ‘I have layne at Notyngham, This fourtynyght with our kynge, And spent I have full moche good On many a grete lordynge.

381. ‘And I have but forty pounde, No more than have I me: But if I had an hondred pounde, I wolde vouch it safe on thee.’

382. Robyn toke the forty pounde, And departed it in two partye; Halfendell he gave his mery men, And bad them mery to be.

383. Full curteysly Robyn gan say; ‘Syr, have this for your spendyng; We shall mete another day’; ‘Gramercy,’ than sayd our kynge.

384. ‘But well thee greteth Edwarde our kynge, And sent to thee his seale, And byddeth thee com to Notyngham, Both to mete and mele.’

385. He toke out the brode targe, And sone he lete hym se; Robyn coud his courteysy, And set hym on his kne.

386. ‘I love no man in all the worlde So well as I do my kynge; Welcome is my lordës seale; And, monke, for thy tydynge,

387. ‘Syr abbot, for thy tydynges, To day thou shalt dyne with me, For the love of my kynge, Under my trystell-tre.’

388. Forth he lad our comly kynge, Full fayre by the honde; Many a dere there was slayne, And full fast dyghtande.

389. Robyn toke a full grete home, And loude he gan blowe; Seven score of wyght yonge men Came redy on a rowe.

390. All they kneled on theyr kne, Full fayre before Robyn: The kynge sayd hymselfe untyll, And swore by Saynt Austyn,

391. ‘Here is a wonder semely sight; Me thynketh, by Goddës pyne, His men are more at his byddynge Then my men be at myn.’

392. Full hastely was theyr dyner i-dyght, And therto gan they gone; They served our kynge with all theyr myght, Both Robyn and Lytell Johan.

393. Anone before our kynge was set The fattë venyson, The good whyte brede, the good rede wyne, And therto the fyne ale and browne.

394. ‘Make good chere,’ said Robyn, ‘Abbot, for charytë; And for this ylkë tydynge, Blyssed mote thou be.

395. ‘Now shalte thou se what lyfe we lede, Or thou hens wende; Than thou may enfourme our kynge, Whan ye togyder lende.’

396. Up they stertë all in hast, Theyr bowes were smartly bent; Our kynge was never so sore agast, He wende to have be shente.

397. Two yerdes there were up set, Thereto gan they gange; By fyfty pase, our kynge sayd, The merkës were to longe.

398. On every syde a rose-garlonde, They shot under the lyne: ‘Who so fayleth of the rose-garlonde,’ sayd Robyn, ‘His takyll he shall tyne,

399. ‘And yelde it to his mayster, Be it never so fyne; For no man wyll I spare, So drynke I ale or wyne;

400. ‘And bere a buffet on his hede, I-wys ryght all bare’: And all that fell in Robyns lote, He smote them wonder sare.

401. Twyse Robyn shot aboute, And ever he cleved the wande, And so dyde good Gylberte With the Whytë Hande.

402. Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke, For nothynge wolde they spare; When they fayled of the garlonde, Robyn smote them full sore.

403. At the last shot that Robyn shot, For all his frendës fare, Yet he fayled of the garlonde Thre fyngers and mare.

404. Than bespake good Gylberte, And thus he gan say; ‘Mayster,’ he sayd, ‘your takyll is lost; Stande forth and take your pay.’

405. ‘If it be so,’ sayd Robyn, ‘That may no better be, Syr abbot, I delyver thee myn arowe, I pray thee, syr, serve thou me.’

406. ‘It falleth not for myn ordre,’ sayd our kynge, ‘Robyn, by thy leve, For to smyte no good yeman, For doute I sholde hym greve.’

407. ‘Smyte on boldely,’ sayd Robyn, ‘I give thee largë leve’: Anone our kynge, with that worde, He folde up his sleve,

408. And sych a buffet he gave Robyn, To grounde he yede full nere: ‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Thou arte a stalworthe frere.

409. ‘There is pith in thyn arme,’ sayd Robyn, ‘I trowe thou canst well shete.’ Thus our kynge and Robyn Hode Togeder gan they mete.

410. Robyn behelde our comly kynge Wystly in the face, So dyde Syr Rycharde at the Le, And kneled downe in that place.

411. And so dyde all the wylde outlawes, Whan they se them knele: ‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde, Now I knowe you well.’

412. ‘Mercy then, Robyn,’ sayd our kynge, ‘Under your trystyll-tre, Of thy goodnesse and thy grace, For my men and me!’

413. ‘Yes, for God,’ sayd Robyn, ‘And also God me save, I aske mercy, my lorde the kynge, And for my men I crave.’

414. ‘Yes, for God,’ than sayd our kynge, ‘And therto sent I me, With that thou leve the grenë-wode And all thy company;

415. ‘And come home, syr, to my courte, And there dwell with me.’ ‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn, ‘And ryght so shall it be.

416. ‘I wyll come to your courte, Your servyse for to se, And brynge with me of my men Seven score and thre.

417. ‘But me lyke well your servyse, I wyll come agayne full soone, And shote at the donnë dere, As I am wonte to done.’

[Annotations: 354.4: ‘and yf’ = if. 357.3: Plumpton Park is said by Camden in his Britannia to be in Cumberland, east of Inglewood. 358.3: ‘unneth,’ scarcely. 364.2: ‘The ball in the hood’ is a very early colloquialism for the head. 366.2: ‘halke,’ hiding-place. 366.4: ‘welt,’ disposed of. 367.1: ‘fostere,’ forester. 371.1: ‘dyght,’ dressed. 372.1: ‘cote’ = cowl; here, however, not the hood, but the frock of a monk. 373.4: ‘covent’ = convent (as in ‘Covent Garden’), company of monks. 374.1: ‘male-hors,’ pack-horse; ‘somers,’ sumpter-horses. 374.4: ‘lynde,’ trees. 382.3: ‘Halfendell’ = halfen deal (which survives in Somerset dialect), the half portion: _deal_, as in ‘a great deal’ = dole, or that which is dealt. 385.1: ‘brode targe,’ broad charter. Cf. a ‘braid letter.’ 388.4: ‘dyghtande’ (intended for a past participle), made ready. 389.4: ‘on a row’: cf. 306.4. 391.2: ‘pyne,’ passion. 394.3: ‘ylke,’ same. 395.2: ‘Or’ = ere. 395.4: ‘lende,’ dwell. 397.4: ‘merkes,’ distances between the ‘yerdes’ or rods. 398.4: _i.e._ his arrow he shall lose. 408.2: ‘yede,’ went. 410.2: ‘Wystly,’ observantly, closely. 414.2: ‘sent’ = assent. 414.3: ‘With that,’ provided that, on condition that. 417.1: ‘But,’ unless. 417.3: ‘donne,’ dun.]

THE EIGHTH FYTTE (418-456)

+Argument.+--For a jest, the king disguises himself and his men once more, this time in Lincoln green, which he purchases off Robin Hood. The whole party proceeds to Nottingham, where the appearance of so many green mantles causes a general flight of the inhabitants. The king, however, reveals himself, and after a feast, pardons the knight.

Robin dwells in the king’s court for fifteen months, at the end of which time he has spent much money, and has lost all his men except Little John and Scathlock. He therefore begs the king’s leave to go on a pilgrimage to a shrine of St. Mary Magdalen in Barnsdale, and the king consents, but allows him only seven nights’ absence. Robin comes to the greenwood, and shoots a great hart; and on blowing his horn, seven score yeomen come and welcome him back, and he dwells two-and-twenty years in the greenwood. In the end he was betrayed by his kinswoman, the Prioress of Kirkesly Abbey, and her lover, Sir Roger of Doncaster.

It has been suggested (by Professor Brandl) that the episode of the king’s disguise in green is an intentional variation of the episode in the Third Fytte, where the Sheriff of Nottingham is forced to wrap himself in a green mantle. In any case it is probable that most of this Eighth Fytte is the work of the compiler of the _Gest_; possibly even the delightful verses (stt. 445-6) in which the joy of greenwood life overcomes Robin.

One could wish the _Gest_ ended with st. 450; but it is clear that the compiler knew of a ballad which narrated the death of Robin Hood, no doubt an earlier version of the _Robin Hood’s Death_ of the Percy Folio, a ballad unfortunately incomplete (see p. 140).

Every famous outlaw of English tradition visits the king’s court sooner or later, and makes peace with the king; but Robin’s independence was too dear to him--and to the ballad-singers whose ideal he was--to allow him to go to the king voluntarily. Therefore the king must come to Robin; and here the compiler, perhaps, saw his opportunity to introduce the king-in-disguise theme, and so evolved the two last fyttes of the _Gest_.

THE EIGHTH FYTTE

418. ‘Haste thou ony grene cloth,’ sayd our kynge, ‘That thou wylte sell nowe to me?’ ‘Ye, for God,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Thyrty yerdes and three.’

419. ‘Robyn,’ sayd our kynge, ‘Now pray I thee, Sell me some of that cloth To me and my meynë.’

420. ‘Yes, for God,’ then sayd Robyn, ‘Or elles I were a fole; Another day ye wyll me clothe, I trowe, ayenst the Yole.’

421. The kynge kest of his colë then, A grene garment he dyde on, And every knyght also, i-wys, Another had full sone.

422. When they were clothed in Lyncolne grene, They keste away theyr graye. ‘Now we shall to Notyngham,’ All thus our kynge gan say.

423. They bente theyr bowes, and forth they went, Shotynge all in fere, Towarde the towne of Notyngham, Outlawes as they were.

424. Our kynge and Robyn rode togyder, For soth as I you say; And they shote plucke-buffet, As they went by the way.

425. And many a buffet our kynge wan Of Robyn Hode that day, And nothynge spared good Robyn Our kynge in his pay.

426. ‘So God me helpë,’ sayd our kynge, ‘Thy game is nought to lere; I sholde not get a shote of thee, Though I shote all this yere.’

427. All the people of Notyngham They stode and behelde; They sawe nothynge but mantels of grene That covered all the felde.

428. Than every man to other gan say, ‘I drede our kynge be slone; Come Robyn Hode to the towne, i-wys On lyve he lefte never one.’

429. Full hastëly they began to fle, Both yemen and knaves, And olde wyves that myght evyll goo, They hyppëd on theyr staves.

430. The kynge loughe full fast, And commaunded theym agayne; When they se our comly kynge, I-wys they were full fayne.

431. They ete and dranke, and made them glad, And sange with notës hye; Than bespake our comly kynge To Syr Richarde at the Lee.

432. He gave hym there his londe agayne, A good man he bad hym be; Robyn thanked our comly kynge, And set hym on his kne.

433. Had Robyn dwelled in the kyngës courte But twelve monethes and thre, That he had spent an hondred pounde, And all his mennës fe.

434. In every place where Robyn came Ever more he layde downe, Both for knyghtës and for squyres, To gete hym grete renowne.

435. By than the yere was all agone He had no man but twayne, Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke, With hym all for to gone.

436. Robyn sawe yonge men shote Full fayre upon a day; ‘Alas!’ than sayd good Robyn, ‘My welthe is went away.

437. ‘Somtyme I was an archere good, A styffe and eke a stronge; I was compted the best archere That was in mery Englonde.

438. ‘Alas!’ then sayd good Robyn, ‘Alas and well a woo! Yf I dwele lenger with the kynge, Sorowe wyll me sloo.’

439. Forth than went Robyn Hode Tyll he came to our kynge: ‘My lorde the kynge of Englonde, Graunte me myn askynge.

440. ‘I made a chapell in Bernysdale, That semely is to se, It is of Mary Magdaleyne, And thereto wolde I be.

441. ‘I myght never in this seven nyght No tyme to slepe ne wynke, Nother all these seven dayes Nother ete ne drynke.

442. ‘Me longeth sore to Bernysdale, I may not be therfro; Barefote and wolwarde I have hyght Thyder for to go.’

443. ‘Yf it be so,’ than sayd our kynge, ‘It may no better be; Seven nyght I gyve thee leve, No lengre, to dwell fro me.’

444. ‘Gramercy, lorde,’ then sayd Robyn, And set hym on his kne; He toke his leve full courteysly, To grene wode then went he.

445. When he came to grene wode, In a mery mornynge, There he herde the notës small Of byrdës mery syngynge.

446. ‘It is ferre gone,’ sayd Robyn, ‘That I was last here; Me lyste a lytell for to shote At the donnë dere.’

447. Robyn slewe a full grete harte; His horne than gan he blow, That all the outlawes of that forest That horne coud they knowe,

448. And gadred them togyder, In a lytell throwe. Seven score of wyght yonge men Came redy on a rowe,

449. And fayre dyde of theyr hodes, And set them on theyr kne: ‘Welcome,’ they sayd, ‘our derë mayster, Under this grene-wode tre.’

450. Robyn dwelled in grenë wode Twenty yere and two; For all drede of Edwarde our kynge, Agayne wolde he not goo.

451. Yet he was begyled, i-wys, Through a wycked woman, The pryoresse of Kyrkësly, That nye was of hys kynne:

452. For the love of a knyght, Syr Roger of Donkesly, That was her ownë speciall; Full evyll mote they the!

453. They toke togyder theyr counsell Robyn Hood for to sle, And how they myght best do that dede, His banis for to be.

454. Than bespake good Robyn, In place where as he stode, ‘Tomorow I muste to Kyrkësly, Craftely to be leten blode.’

455. Syr Roger of Donkestere By the pryoresse he lay, And there they betrayed good Robyn Hode, Through theyr falsë playe.

456. Cryst have mercy on his soul, That dyëd on the rode! For he was a good outlawe, And dyde pore men moch gode.