English and Scottish Ballads - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
6, shote, W.
10, he sleste, W.
19, thou wast, C. wast thou, Wh.
20, wane, Ch. & M. wan, R.
41. He, Ritson. Ge. W. f. G.o.d.
70, Ch. & M. open.
121, hyed, C.
150, whyle, W.
163, syght, W. sightes, C.
183, wo the worth, W.
232, ye, Ch. & M. the, R.
241, have, R. hathe, Ch. & M.
THE FOURTH FYTTE.
The sheryf dwelled in Notynghame, He was fayne that he was gone, And Robyn and his mery men Went to wode anone.
"Go we to dyner," sayd Lytell Johan; 5 Robyn Hode sayd, "Nay; For I drede our lady be wroth with me, For she sent me not my pay."
"Have no dout, mayster," sayd Lytell Johan, "Yet is not the sonne at rest; 10 For I dare saye, and saufly swere, The knyght is trewe and trust."
"Take thy bowe in thy hande," sayd Robyn, "Let Moche wende with the, And so shall Wyllyam Scathelock, 15 And no man abyde with me.
"And walk up into the Sayles, And to Watlynge-strete, And wayte after some unketh gest;[L19]
Up-chaunce ye may them mete. 20
"Whether he be messengere, Or a man that myrthes can, Or yf he be a pore man, Of my good he shall have some."
Forth then stert Lytel Johan, 25 Half in tray and tene, And gyrde hym with a full good swerde, Under a mantel of grene.
They went up to the Sayles, These yemen all thre; 30 They loked est, they loked west, They myght no man se.
But as he loked in Bernysdale, By the hye waye, Than were they ware of two blacke monkes, 35 Eche on a good palferay.
Then bespake Lytell Johan, To Much he gan say, "I dare lay my lyfe to wedde, That these monkes have brought our pay. 40
"Make glad chere," sayd Lytell Johan, "And frese our bowes of ewe, And loke your hertes be seker and sad, Your strynges trusty and trewe.
"The monke hath fifty two men, 45 And seven somers full stronge; There rydeth no bysshop in this londe So ryally, I understond.
"Brethern," sayd Lytell Johan, "Here are no more but we thre; 50 But we brynge them to dyner, Our mayster dare we not se.
"Bende your bowes," sayd Lytell Johan, "Make all yon prese to stonde;[L54]
The formost monke, his lyfe and his deth 55 Is closed in my honde.
"Abyde, chorle monke," sayd Lytell Johan, "No ferther that thou gone; Yf thou doost, by dere worthy G.o.d, Thy deth is in my honde. 60
"And evyll thryfte on thy hede," sayd Lytell Johan, "Ryght under thy hattes bonde, For thou hast made our mayster wroth, He is fastynge so longe."
"Who is your mayster?" sayd the monke; 65 Lytell Johan sayd "Robyn Hode;"
"He is a stronge thefe," sayd the monke, "Of hym herd I never good."
"Thou lyest," than sayd Lytell Johan, "And that shall rewe the; 70 He is a yeman of the forest, To dyne he hath bode the."
Much was redy with a bolte, Redly and anone, He set the monke to fore the brest, 75 To the grounde that he can gone.
Of fyfty two wyght yonge men[L77]
There abode not one, Saf a lytell page, and a grome, To lede the somers with Johan.[L80] 80
They brought the monke to the lodge dore, Whether he were loth or lefe, For to speke with Robyn Hode, Maugre in theyr tethe.
Robyn dyde adowne his hode, 85 The monke whan that he se; The monke was not so curteyse, His hode then let he be.
"He is a chorle, mayster, by dere worthy G.o.d,"
Than said Lytell Johan: 90 "Thereof no force," sayd Robyn, "For curteysy can he none.
"How many men," sayd Robyn, "Had this monke, Johan?"
"Fifty and two whan that we met, 95 But many of them be gone."
"Let blowe a horne," sayd Robyn, "That felaushyp may us knowe;"
Seven score of wyght yemen, Came pryckynge on a rowe. 100
And everych of them a good mantell Of scarlet and of raye; All they came to good Robyn, To wyte what he wolde say.
They made the monke to washe and wype, 105 And syt at his denere, Robyn Hode and Lytel Johan They served him bothe in fere.[L108]
"Do gladly, monke," sayd Robyn.
"Gramercy, syr," said he. 110 "Where is your abbay, whan ye are at home, And who is your avowe?"
"Saynt Mary abbay," sayd the monke, "Though I be symple here."
"In what offyce?" sayd Robyn: 115 "Syr, the hye selerer."
"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. 120
"But I have grete mervayle," sayd Robyn, "Of all this longe day; I drede our lady be wroth with me, She sent me not my pay."
"Have no doute, mayster," sayd Lytell Johan, 125 "Ye have no nede I saye; This monke it hath brought, I dare well swere, For he is of her abbay."
