Classic Poem

But how many merry monthes be in the yeere,
there are 13 in May,
the Midsum m er Moone is the Merryest of all
next to the merry month of May

In May when mayds beene fast weepand,
young men their hands done wringe

" Ile . . . . pe . . . .
over may noe man for villanie;
Ile never eate nor drinke " Ro bin Hood sa[id]
" till I that cutted friar see "

He builded his men in a brake of fearne
a litle from that Nunery,
sayes, " if you heare my litle horne blow,
then looke you come to me. "

When Robin came to fontaines abey
wheras that fryer lay,
he was ware of the fryer where he stood,
and to him thus can he say: —

A payre of blacke breeches the yeoman had on,
his coppe all shone of steele,
a fayre sword & a broad buckeler
beseemed him very weell: —

" I am a wet weary man, " said Robin Hood,
" good fellow, as thou may see,
wilt beare [me] over this wild water
ffor sweete S ain t Charity? "

The fryer bethought him of a good deed,
he had done none of long before,
he hent up Robin hood on his backe
and over he did him beare.

But when he came over tha t wild water,
a longe sword there he drew:
" beare me backe againe, bold outlawe,
or of this thou shalt have enoughe "

Then Robin Hood hent the fryar on his back,
and neither sayd good nor ill;
till he came ore that wild water,
they yeoman he walked still

Then Robin Hood wett his fayre greene eze[n?]
a span aboue his knee,
s[ay]s " beare me ore againe, thou cutted f[ryer] "
. . . . . . . . good bowmen
[C]ame raking all on a rowe.

" I beshrew thy head, " said the cutted ffriar,
" thou thinkes I shall be shente;
I thought thou had but a man or 2,
& thou hast whole com m ent

" I lett thee haue a blast on thy horne,
now giue me leaue to whistle another,
I cold not bidd thee noe better play
& thou wert my owne borne brother. "

" Now fate on, fute on, thou cutted fryar,
I pray god thou neere be still;
it is not the futing in a fryers fist
tha t can doe me any ill. "

The fryar sett his neave to his mouth,
a loud blast he did blow,
then halfe a 100 d good bandoggs
came raking all on a rowe.

" Euery dogg to a man, " said the cutted fryar,
" and I my selfe to Robin Hood. "

" Ever gods forbott, " said Robin Hood,
" tha t euer tha t soe shold bee;
I had rather be mached w i th 3 of the tikes
ere I wold be matched on thee.

" But stay thy tikes, thou fryar, " he said,
" and freindshipp Ile haue w i th thee;
but stay thy tikes thou fryar, " he said,
" and saue good yeomanry "

The fryar he sett his neave to his mouth,
a lowd blast he did blow,
they doggs the coucht downe euery one,
they couched downe on a rowe

" What is thy will, thou yeoman, " he said,
" haue done & tell it me. "
" if that thou will goe to Merry greenwood
. . . . . . . . . .