Classic Poem

Lithe and listen, gentlemen,
That be of freeborn blood;
I shall you tell of a good yeomán,
His name was Robin Hood.
Robin was a proud outlaw,
Whilés 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 hím stood Little John,
A good yeomán was he;
And also did good Scathélock,
And Much the miller's son;
There was no inch of his bodý,
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 bespaké good Robín,
“To dine I have no lust,
Till I have some bold barón,
Or some unketh gest,
That may pay for the best;
Or some knight or some squyére
That dwelleth here by west.”

A good mannér 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 Ladý,
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 Robín,
“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 squyér,
That would be a good feláw.
These bishops, and these archbishops,
Ye shall them beat and bind;
The high sheríff of Nottingham,
Him hold in your mind.”

“This word shall be holde,” said Little John,
“And this lesson shall we lere;
It is ferré days, God send us a geste.
That we were at our dinere!”

“Take thy good bow in thy hand,” said Robin,
“Let Much wendé with thee,
And so shall William Scathélock,
And no man abide with me:
And walk up to the Saÿlés,
And so to Watling Street,
And wait after some unketh gest,
Up-chance ye mowe them meet.
Be he earl or any barón,
Abbót or any knight,
Bring him to lodge to me,
His dinner shall be dight.

They went unto the Saÿlés,
These yeomen all three,
They lookéd east, they lookéd west,
They mighté no man see.
But as they looked in Barnisdale,
By a derné street,
Then came thére a knight ridíng,
Full soon they gan him meet.
All drearý 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 curtéyse,
And set him on his knee:
“Welcome be ye, gentle knight,
Welcóme are ye to me,
Welcome be thou to green wood,
Hende knight and free;
My master hath abiden you fastíng,
Sir, all these hourés 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.

“Welcóme, sir knight,” then said Robin,
“Welcóme thou art to me;
I have abiden you fasting, sir,
All these hourés three.”

Then answered the gentle knight,
With wordés fair and free,
“God thee savé, good Robín,
And all thy fair meyné.”

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

“Do gladly, sir knight,” said Robín.

“Gramércy, sir,” said he,
“Such a dinner had I not
Of all these weekés three;
If I come again, Robín,
Here bý this countré,
As good a dinner I shall thee make,
As thou hast made to me.”

“Gramercý, knight,” said Robín,
“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 Robín,
“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 Robín,
“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 Robín,
“I will not one penný;
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 coffér
But even half a pound.
Little John let it lie full still,
And went to his master full low.

“What tidingé, John?” said Robín.

“Sir, the knight is true enow.”

“Fill of the best wine,” said Robín,
“The knight shall begin;
Much wonder thinketh me
Thy clothing is so thin.
Tell me one word,” said Robín,
“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 Robín,
“With wrong hast thou led thy life.”

“I am none of them,” said the knight,
“By him that madé me;
An hundred winter here before,
Mine aunsetters knights have be.
But oft it hath befal, Robín,
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 monéy
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 Robín,
“Hast thou lore thy richésse?”

“For my great folly,” he said,
“And for my kindénesse.
I had a son, for sooth, Robín,
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, Robín,
Until a certain day,
To a rich abbot here beside,
Of Saint Marý abbay.”

“What is the summé?” said Robín,
“Truth then tell thou me.”

“Sir,” he said, “four hundred pound,
The abbót 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 salté sea,
And see where Christ was quick and dead,
On the mount of Calvarý.
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 Robín.

“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 beastés on a row;
They take no more heed of me
Than they me never saw.”

For ruthé then wept Little John,
Seathelocke and Much also.
“Fill of the best wine,” said Robín,
“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 japés!” said Robín,
“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 Ladý,
She failed me ne'er ere this day.”

“By dere-worthy God,” then said Robín,
“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 treasurý,
And bring me foür hundred pound,
And look that it well told be.”

Forth then went Little John,
And Seathelock went before,
He told out foür hundred pound,
By eighteené 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 povertý
Master,” then said Little John,
“His clothing is full thin,
Ye must give the knight a liveráy,
To wrap his bodý therein.

For ye have scarlét and green, mastér,
And many a rich array,
There is no merchánt in merry Englánd
So rich, I dare well say.”

“Take him three yards of every coloúr,
And look that well mete it be.”

Little John took none other measúre
But his bowé tree,
And of every handfull that he met
He leapt ouer footés 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 measúre,
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 coursér,” said Robin,
“And a saddle new;
He is our Lady's messengere,
God lend that he be true!”

“And a good palfréy,” said Little Much,
“To maintain him in his right.”

“And a pair of boots,” said Scathélock,
“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 Robín,
“Under this green wood tree.
“It were great shamé,” said Robín,
“A knight alone to ride,
Without squyér, yeoman or page,
To walké 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.”