Chapter 6

Lithe and listen, Gentlemen! All that now be here, Of Little JOHN, that was the Knight's man, Good mirth ye shall hear. It was upon a merry day That young men would go shoot, Little JOHN fetched his bow anon And said he "would them meet." Three times, Little JOHN shot about, And always he sleste [_slit_] the wand: The proud Sheriff of NOTTINGHAM By the Marks 'gan stand. The Sheriff swore a full great oath, "By Him that died on the tree! This man is the best archer That yet saw I me! Say me now, wight young man! What is now thy name? In what country wert thou born? And where is thy woning wane?" "In Holderness, I was born, I-wis, all of my dame: Men call me REYNOLD GREENLEAF, When I am at home." "Say me, REYNOLD GREENLEAF! Wilt thou dwell with me? And every year, I will thee give Twenty marks to thy fee!" "I have a Master," said Little JOHN, "A courteous Knight is he; May ye get leave of him, the better may it be." The Sheriff got Little JOHN Twelve months of the Knight; Therefore he gave him right anon A good horse and a wight. Now is Little JOHN a Sheriff's man, God give us well to speed! But always thought Little JOHN To quite him well his meed. "Now, so God me help!" said Little JOHN, "And be my true lewte! I shall be the worst servant to him That ever yet had he!" It befel upon a Wednesday, The Sheriff on hunting was gone, And Little JOHN lay in his bed, and was forgot at home, Therefore he was fasting till it was past the noon. "Good Sir Steward, I pray thee, Give me to dine!" said Little JOHN. "It is long for GREENLEAF, fasting so long to be. Therefore I pray thee, Steward, my dinner give thou me!" "Shalt thou never eat nor drink," said the Steward, "Till my lord be come to town!" "I make my avow to God," said Little JOHN "I had lever to crack thy crown!" The Butler was full uncourteous, There he stood on floor; He started to the buttery, and shut fast the door. Little JOHN gave the Butler such a rap His back went nigh in two Though he lived an hundred winters, the worse he should go. He spurned the door with his foot, it went up well and fine! And there he made a large 'livery Both of ale and wine. "Sir, if ye will not dine," said Little JOHN, "I shall give you to drink! And though ye live an hundred winters, On Little JOHN ye shall think!" Little JOHN eat and little JOHN drank, the while he would. The Sheriff had in his kitchen a Cook, A stout man and a bold, "I make mine avow to God!" said the Cook, "Thou art a shrewd hind, In any household to dwell! for to ask thus to dine!" And there he lent Little JOHN Good strokes three. "I make mine avow," said Little JOHN, "These strokes liketh well. Thou art a bold man and a hardy, And so thinketh me! And ere I pass from this place Assayed better shalt thou be!" Little JOHN drew a good sword, The Cook took another in hand; They thought nothing for to flee, But stiffly for to stand. There they fought sore together, Two mile way and more; Might neither other harm do The maintenance of an hour. "I make mine avow to God," said Little JOHN, "And by my true lewte! Thou art one of the best swordsmen That ever yet saw I me, Couldst thou shoot as well in a bow, To green wood, thou shouldst with me! And two times in the year, thy clothing Ychanged should be! And every year of ROBIN HOOD, Twenty marks to thy fee!" "Put up thy sword," said the Cook, "And fellows will we be!" Then he fetch to Little JOHN, The nombles of a doe, Good bread, and full good wine. They eat and drank thereto. And when they had drunken well, Their troths together they plight, That they would be with ROBIN That ilk same night. They did them to the treasure house As fast as they might go; The locks that were good steel, They brake them everych one. They took away the silver vessels, And all that they might get; Piece, mazers, ne spoons, Would they none forget. Also they took the good pence, Three hundred pounds and more: And did them strait to ROBIN HOOD Under the green-wood hoar. "God thee save, my dear master! And CHRIST thee save and see!" And then said ROBIN to Little JOHN, "Welcome might thou be! And also that fair yeoman, Thou bringest there with thee! What tidings from Nottingham, Little JOHN? tell thou me!" "Well thee greeteth the proud Sheriff! And send thee here by me, His Cook and his silver vessels, And three hundred pounds and three!" "I make mine avow to God!" said ROBIN, "And to the Trinity! It was never by his good-will This good is come to me!" Little JOHN him there bethought On a shrewd wile. Five miles in the forest he ran. Him happed at his will! Then he met the proud Sheriff Hunting with hounds and horn. Little JOHN could his courtesy, And kneeled him beforne. "God thee save, my dear Master! And CHRIST thee save and see!" "REYNOLD GREENLEAF!" said the Sheriff, "Where hast thou now be?" "I have been in this forest; A fair sight can I see; It was one of the fairest sights That ever yet saw I me! Yonder I see a right fair hart, His colour is of green! Seven score of deer upon a herd, Be with him all bedeen, His tynde are so sharp, Master, Of sixty and well mo, That I durst not shoot for dread, Lest they would me slo!" "I make mine avow to God!" said the Sheriff, "That sight would I fain see!" "Busk you thitherward, my dear Master Anon, and wend with me!" The Sheriff rode, and Little JOHN, Of foot he was full smart; And when they came afore ROBIN, "Lo, here is the master Hart!" Still stood the proud Sheriff: A sorry man was he! "Woe the worth, REYNOLD GREENLEAF, Thou hast betrayed me!" "I make mine avow to God," said Little JOHN, "Master, ye be to blame! I was mis-served of my dinner, When I was with you at home!" Soon he was to supper set, And served with silver white: And when the Sheriff saw his vessel, For sorrow, he might not eat! "Make good cheer," said ROBIN HOOD, "Sheriff! for charity! And for the love of Little JOHN Thy life is granted to thee!" When they had supped well, The day was all agone, ROBIN commanded Little JOHN To draw off his hosen and his shoon, His kirtle and his courtepy, That was furred well fine; And took him a green mantle, To lap his body therein. ROBIN commanded his wight young men, Under the green-wood tree, They shall lay in that same suit, That the Sheriff might them see. All night lay that proud Sheriff, In his breech and in his shirt: No wonder it was in green wood Though his sides do smart. "Make glad cheer," said ROBIN HOOD, "Sheriff, for charity! For this is our order, I-wis, Under the green-wood tree!" "This is harder order," said the Sheriff, "Than any Anchor or Frere! For all the gold in merry England, I would not long dwell here!" "All these twelve months," said ROBIN, "Thou shalt dwell with me! I shall thee teach, proud Sheriff, An outlaw for to be!" "Ere I here another night lie," said the Sheriff, "ROBIN, now I pray thee! Smite off my head, rather to-morn, And I forgive it thee! Let me go then," said the Sheriff, "For saint charity! And I will be thy best friend, That yet had ye!" "Thou shalt swear me an oath!" said ROBIN, "On my bright brand, Thou shalt never await me scathe! By water ne by land! And if thou find any of my men, By night, or by day, Upon thine oath, thou shalt swear To help them that thou may!" Now has the Sheriff ysworn this oath, And home he began to gone; He was as full of green wood, As ever was heap of stone.

+¶ The fourth fytte.+

The Sheriff dwelled in Nottingham, He was fain that he was gone, And ROBIN and his merry men Went to wood anon. "Go we to dinner?" said Little JOHN. ROBIN HOOD said, "Nay! For I dread our Lady be wroth with me; For she [has] sent me not my pay!" "Have no doubt, Master!" said Little JOHN. "Yet is not the sun not at rest: For I dare say and safely swear The Knight is true and trust!" "Take thy bow in thy hand!" said ROBIN. "Let MUCH wend with thee! And so shall WILLIAM SCATHELOCK; And no man abide with me! And walk up under the Sayles, And to Watling Street; And wait after such unketh guest, Upchance ye may them meet. Whether he be messenger, Or a man that mirths can; Of my good, he shall have some If he be a poor man!" Forth then started Little JOHN, Half in tray or teen, And girded him with a full good sword Under a mantle of green. They went up to the Sayles, These yeomen all three, They looked East, they looked West, They might no man see. But as they looked in Bernysdale, By the highway Then were they 'ware of two black monks, Each on a good palfrey. Then bespake Little JOHN, To MUCH he 'gan say: "I dare lay my life to wed These monks have brought our pay!" "Make glad cheer," said Little JOHN, "And frese our bows of yew! And look your hearts be sicker and sad, Your strings trusty and true!" The monk had fifty and two [men] And seven somers full strong, There rideth no Bishop in this land So royally I understand. "Brethren," said Little JOHN, "Here are no more but we three; But we bring them to dinner, Our Master, dare we not see!" "Bend your bows!" said Little JOHN, "Make all yon press to stand! The foremost monk, his life and his death, Are closed in my hand. Abide, churl Monk!" said Little JOHN, "No further that thou go, If thou dost, by dear-worthy God! Thy death is in my hand! And evil thrift on thy head!" said Little JOHN, "Right under thy hat's band: For thou hast made our Master wroth, He is fasting so long!" "Who is your Master?" said the Monk. Little JOHN said, "ROBIN HOOD!" "He is a strong thief!" said the Monk; "Of him heard I never good!" "Thou liest then!" said Little JOHN, "And that shall rue thee! He is a yeoman of the forest; To dine, he hath bidden thee!" MUCH was ready with a bolt, Readily and anon, He set the Monk tofore the breast To the ground that he can gone. Of fifty-two wight young yeomen There abode not one; Save a little page and a groom To lead the somers with Little JOHN. They brought the Monk to the lodge door, Whether he were loth or lief, For to speak with ROBIN HOOD, Maugre in their teeth. ROBIN did adown his hood, The Monk when that he see, The Monk who was not so courteous His hood then let he be. "He is a churl, Master! by dear-worthy God!" Then said Little JOHN. "Thereof no force!" said ROBIN, "For courtesy can he none! How many men," said ROBIN, "Had this Monk, JOHN?" "Fifty and two when that we met; But many of them be gone." "Let blow a horn!" said ROBIN, "That fellowship may us know!" Seven score of wight yeomen Came pricking on a row, And everych of them a good mantle Of scarlet and of ray, All they came to good ROBIN To wit what he would say. They made the Monk to wash and wipe, And sit at his dinner, ROBIN HOOD and Little JOHN They served him both in-fere. "Do gladly, Monk!" said ROBIN. "Grammercy, Sir!" said he. "Where is your Abbey, when ye are at home; And who is your avow?" "St. Mary's Abbey," said the Monk, "Though I be simple here." "In what office?" said ROBIN. "Sir! the High Cellarer." "Ye be the more welcome," said ROBIN. "So ever might I thee." "Fill of the best wine!" said ROBIN, "This Monk shall drink to me! But I have great marvel," said ROBIN, "Of all this long day, I dread our Lady be wroth with me, She sent me not my pay!" "Have no doubt, Master!" said Little JOHN, "Ye have no need, I say: This Monk, it hath brought, I dare well swear! For he is of her Abbey." "And She was a borrow," said ROBIN, "Between a Knight and me, Of a little money that I him lent Under the green-wood tree; And if thou hast that silver ybrought, I pray thee let me see, And I shall help thee eftsoons If thou have need to me!" The Monk swore a full great oath, With a sorry cheer, "Of the borrowhood thou speakest to me Heard I never ere!" "I make mine avow to God!" said ROBIN, "Monk, thou art to blame! For God is held a righteous man, And so is his dame. Thou toldest with thine own tongue Thou mayst not say 'Nay!' How thou art her servant, And servest her every day: And thou art made her messenger, My money for to pay. Therefore I can the more thanks, Thou art come to thy day! What is in your coffers?" said ROBIN; "True, then, tell thou me?" "Sir!" he said, "twenty marks! Also might I thee!" "If there be no more," said ROBIN, "I will not one penny. If thou hast myster of any more, Sir, more I shall lend to thee! And if I find more," said ROBIN, "Iwis, thou shalt it forgo; For of thy spending silver, Monk! Thereof will I right none." "Go now forth, Little JOHN, And the truth, tell thou me! If there be no more but twenty marks No penny [of] that I see!" Little JOHN spread his mantle down, As he had done before, And he told out of the Monk's mail Eight hundred pound and more. Little JOHN let it lie full still, And went to his Master in haste; "Sir!" he said, "the Monk is true enough; Our Lady hath doubled your cast!" "I make mine avow to God!" said ROBIN, "Monk, what told I thee! Our Lady is the truest woman That ever yet found I me! By dear worthy God!" said ROBIN, "To seek all England through; Yet found I never to my pay, A much better borrow. Fill of the best wine, and do him drink!" said ROBIN; "And greet well thy Lady hend; And if she have need to ROBIN HOOD, A friend she shall him find: And if she needeth any more silver, Come thou again to me! And, by this token she hath me sent, She shall have such three!" The Monk was going to London ward, There to hold great Mote, The Knight that rode so high on horse To bring him under foot. "Whither be ye away?" said ROBIN. "Sir, to manors in this land, To reckon with our Reeves That have done much wrong." "Come now forth, Little JOHN! And hearken to my tale! A better yeoman, I know none To seek a Monk's mail. How much is in yonder other corser?" said ROBIN, "The sooth must we see!" "By our Lady!" then said the Monk, "That were no courtesy; To bid a man to dinner, And sith him beat and bind!" "It is our old manner!" said ROBIN, "To leave but little behind." The Monk took the horse with spur, No longer would he abide! "Ask to drink!" then said ROBIN, "Or that ye further ride?" "Nay, for God!" said the Monk, "Me rueth I came so near! For better cheap, I might have dined In Blyth or in Doncaster!" "Greet well, your Abbot!" said ROBIN, "And your Prior, I you pray! And bid him send me such a Monk To dinner every day!"

Now let we that Monk be still; And speak we of the Knight! Yet he came to hold his day While that it was light. He did him strait to Bernysdale, Under the green-wood tree. And he found there ROBIN HOOD And all his merry meiny. The Knight light down off his good palfrey. ROBIN when he 'gan see; So courteously he did adown his hood And set him on his knee. "God thee save, ROBIN HOOD, And all this company!" "Welcome, be thou, gentle Knight! And right welcome to me!" Then bespake him ROBIN HOOD, To that Knight so free, "What need driveth thee to green wood? I pray thee, Sir Knight, tell me! And welcome be, thou gentle Knight! Why hast thou been so long?" "For the Abbot and high Justice Would have had my land?" "Hast thou thy land again?" said ROBIN, "Truth then tell thou me!" "Yea, for God!" said the Knight, "And that I thank God and thee! But take not a grief," said the Knight, "That I have been so long, I came by a wrestling, And there I helped a poor yeoman, Who with wrong was put behind." "Nay, for God!" said ROBIN, "Sir Knight, that thank I thee! What man that helpeth a good yeoman, His friend then will I be." "Have here four hundred pounds!" then said the Knight "The which ye lent me, And here is also twenty marks for your courtesy!" "Nay, for God!" then said ROBIN, "Thou brook it well for aye; For our Lady, by her Cellarer, Hath sent to me my pay! And if I took it twice, A shame it were to me! But truly, gentle Knight, Welcome art thou to me!" When ROBIN had told his tale, He laughed and had good cheer, "By my troth!" then said the Knight, "Your money is ready here!" "Brook it well!" said ROBIN, "Thou gentle Knight so free! And welcome be thou, gentle Knight, Under my trystel tree! But what shall these bows do?" said ROBIN, "And these arrows yfeathered free?" "By God!" then said the Knight, "A poor present to thee!" "Come now forth, Little JOHN, And go to my treasure, And bring me there four hundred pounds The Monk overtold it me. Have here four hundred pounds, Thou gentle Knight and true! And buy horse and harness good, And gilt thy spurs all new! And if thou fail any spending, Come to ROBIN HOOD! And, by my troth, thou shalt none fail The whiles I have any good; And brook well thy four hundred pounds Which I lent to thee! And make thyself no more so bare; By the counsel of me."

Thus then helped him, good ROBIN, The Knight all of his care: God that sits in heaven high Grant us well to fare!

+The fifth fytte.+

Now hath the Knight his leave ytake, And went him on his way. ROBIN HOOD and his merry men Dwelled still full many a day. Lithe and listen, Gentlemen! And hearken what I shall say, How the proud Sheriff of NOTTINGHAM Did cry a full fair Play, That all the best archers of the North Should come upon a day; And he that shooteth alder best, The game shall bear away! He that shooteth alder best Furthest, fair, and low, At a pair of finely butts, Under the green-wood shaw, A right good arrow he shall have, The shaft of silver white, The head and feathers of rich red gold, In England is none like. This then heard good ROBIN, Under his trystel tree. "Make you ready, ye wight young men, That shooting will I see! Busk you, my merry young men, Ye shall go with me! And I will wit the Sheriff's faith; True and if be he!" When they had their bows ybent, Their tackles feathered free, Seven score of wight young men Stood by ROBIN's knee. When they came to Nottingham, The butts were fair and long, Many were the bold archers That shooted with bowès strong. "There shall but six shoot with me, The others shall keep my head, And stand with good bows bent That I be not deceived." The fourth outlaw, his bow 'gan bend, And that was ROBIN HOOD: And that beheld the proud Sheriff, All by the butt he stood. Thrice ROBIN shot about, And always sliced the wand; And so did good "GILBERT With the white hand." Little JOHN and good SCATHELOCK Were archers good and free: Little MUCH and good REYNOLD The worst would they not be! When they had shot about, These archers fair and good: Ever more was the best, Forsooth, ROBIN HOOD. Him was delivered the good arrow, For best worthy was he: He took the gift so courteously; To green wood would he! They cried out on ROBIN HOOD, And great horns 'gan they blow! "Woe worth the treason!" said ROBIN; "Full evil thou art to know! And woe be thou, thou proud Sheriff! Thus gladding thy guest, Otherwise thou behote me In yonder wild forest, But had I thee in green wood, Under my trystel tree, Thou shouldst leave me a better wed, Than thy true lewte." Full many a bow there was bent, And arrows let they glide! Many a kirtle there was rent, And hurt many a side! The outlaws' shot was so strong That no man might them drive, And the proud Sheriff's men They fled away full blyve. ROBIN saw the [am]bushment to broke, In green wood he would have been; Many an arrow there was shot Among that company. Little JOHN was hurt full sore, With an arrow in his knee, That he might neither go nor ride: It was full great pity! "Master!" then said Little JOHN, "If ever thou lovest me; And for that ilk Lord's love That died upon a tree! And for the meeds of my service, That I have servèd thee: Let never the proud Sheriff Alive now find me! But take out thy brown sword And smite all off my head! And give me wounds dead and wide, No life on me be left!" "I would not that," said ROBIN, "JOHN! that thou be slo, For all the gold in merry England, Though it lay now on a row!" "God forbid!" said Little MUCH, "That dièd on a tree! That thou shouldst, Little JOHN! 'Part our company!" Up he took him on his back, And bare him well nigh a mile: Many a time, he laid him down, And shot another while. Then was there a fair Castle A little within the wood; Double ditched it was about, And wallèd, by the rood: And there dwelt that gentle Knight, Sir RICHARD AT THE LEE, That ROBIN had lent his good Under the green-wood tree. In he took good ROBIN And all his company. "Welcome be thou, ROBIN HOOD! Welcome art thou, to me! And much thank thee of thy comfort And of thy courtesy, And of thy great kindness Under the green-wood tree! I love no man, in all this world So much as I do thee! For all the proud Sheriff of NOTTINGHAM; Right here shalt thou be! Shut the gates, and draw the bridge; And let no man come in! And arm you well, and make you ready! And to the wall ye win! For one thing, ROBIN! I thee behote I swear by St. Quintin! These twelve days thou wonest with me, To sup, eat, and dine!" Boards were laid and cloths spread Readily and anon: ROBIN HOOD and his merry men To meat 'gan they gone.

+¶ The sixth fytte.+