Fifteenth Century Prose and Verse

by Unknown

F I N I S.

Footnotes:

[9] 1st August 1415.

[10] 7th August 1415.

[11] It should be Clef de caus.

[12] 14th August 1415.

[13] 10th September 1415.

[14] It should be Sir Lionel Braquemont.

[15] 22nd September 1415.

[16] 22nd September 1415.

[17] It should be Sir Thomas Erpingham.

[18] It should be Sir Gilbert Umfreville.

[19] It should be Sir William Bourchier.

[20] ?8th October 1415.

[21] It should be Somme.

[22] 25th October 1415.

[23] 16th November 1415.

[24] 22nd November 1415.

[25] 23rd November 1415.

---

Thomas Occleve,

Clerk in the Office of the Privy Seal.

The Letter of Cupid.

[Old forms like serven, serve; wollen, will; tellen, tell; doin, done; and the Imperatives bethe, be; telleth, tell; occur in this Poem.]

T. Occleve. 1402.

upido, (unto whose commandèment
The gentle kindred of goddis on high
And people infernal be obedient;
And mortal folk all serven busily),
Of the goddess son Cythera only;
Unto all those that to our deity
Be subjects, heartly greeting, sendè we!
In general, we wollen that ye know
That Ladies of honour and reverence,
And other Gentlewomen havin sow
Such seed of complaint in our audience,
Of men that do them outrage and offence;
That it our earis grieveth for to hear,
So piteous is the effect of this matere.
Passing all landis, on the little isle
That cleped is Albion, they most complain,
They say that there is crop and root of guile:
So can those men dissimulen and feign,
With standing dropis in their eyen twain;
When that their heartis feeleth no distress,
To blinden women with their doubleness.

Their wordis, spoken be so sighingly,
With so piteous a cheer and countenance
That every wight that meaneth truèly
Deemeth that they in heart have such grievance.
They say, "So importable is their penance,
That but their lady lust to shew them grace
They, right anon, must starven in the place."
"Ah, Lady mine!" they say, "I you ensure
As doth me grace! and I shall ever be,
While that my life may laste and endure
To you as humble and low in each degree
As possible is, and keep all things secree
Right as yourselven listé that I do!
And elles must mine heartè burst in two."
Full hard it is, to know a manis heart
For outward may no man the truthè deem,
When word out of his mouth may none astert
But it by reason seemed a wight to queme,
So it is said of heart, as it would seem.
O faithful woman! full of innocence!
Thou art deceivèd by false appearance!
By process moveth oft woman's pity.
Weening all things were as these men ysay,
They grant them grace, of their benignity,
For that men shoulden not, for their sake die,
And with good hearte, set them in the way
Of blissful lové: keep it, if they con!
Thus, otherwhilé, women beth ywon.

And when this man the pan hath by the steel
And fully is in his possession;
With that woman keepeth he no more to deal
After, if he may finden in the town
Any woman, his blind affection
On to bestow. But evil mote he preve!
A man, for all his oaths, is hard to believe!
And for that every false Man hath a Make,
(As unto every wight is light to know)
When this traitor, this woman hath forsake,
He fast him speedeth unto his fellow.
Till he be there, his heart is on a low;
His false deceit ne may him not suffice,
But of his treason telleth all the wise.
Is this a fair avaunt? Is this honour?
A man himself accuse thus and defame!
Is it good to confess himself a traitor?
And bring a woman into slanderous name
And tell how he her body hath do shame?
No worship may he thus, to him conquer,
But great dislander unto him and her!
To her! Nay! Yet ywas it no reprefe;
For all for virtue was, that she ywrought!
But he that brewèd hath all this mischief,
That spake so fair, and falsely inward thought;
His be the slander! as it by reason ought
And unto her be thank perpetual
That, in such a neede helpen can so well.

Although through manis sleight and subtilty,
A silly simple and innocent woman
Betrayed is: no wonder! since the city
Of Troy, as that the story tellen can,
Betrayèd was, through the deceit of man,
And set on fire, and all down overthrow;
And finally destroyèd, as men know.
Betrayen not men cities great and kings?
What wight is it that can shape remedy
Against these falsely proposèd things?
Who can the craft such craftés to espy
But man? whose wit is e'er ready to apply
To thing that sowning is into falshede?
Woman! beth'ware of false men! I thee rede.
And, furthermore, have these men in usage
That where they not likely been to sped,
Such as they been with a double visage,
They procuren, for to pursue their need;
He prayeth him, in his causé to proceed,
And largely guerdoneth he his travail.
Little wot women, how men them assail!
Another wretch, unto his fellow saith,
"Thou fishest fair! She which that thee hath fired
Is false, inconstant, and she hath no faith.
She for the road of folk is so desired;
And, as an horse, from day to day she is hired!
That when thou twinnest from her company,
Cometh another; and bleared is thine eye!

Now prick on faste! and ride thy journey
While thou art there! For she, behind thy back,
So liberal is, she will nothing withsay,
But smartly of another take a smack.
And thus faren these women all the pack
Whoso them trusteth, hanged mote he be!
Ever they desire change and novelty."
Whereof proceedeth this, but of envy?
For that he himselve her ne winnen may.
He speaketh her reprefe and villainy;
As manis blabbing tongue is wont alway.
Thus divers men full often make assay.
For to disturben folk in sundry wise,
For they may not acheven their emprise.
Many one eke would speaken for no good,
That hath in love his timè spent and used.
Men wist, his Lady his asking withstood;
Ere that he were of her, plainly refused.
Or waste and vain were all that he had mused:
Wherefore he can none other remedy,
But on his Lady shapeth him to lie.
"Every woman," he saith, "is light to get,
Can none say, 'Nay!' if she be well ysought;
Whoso may leisure have with her to treat
Of his purpose ne shall be failen ought
But he on madness be so deep ybrought
That he shende all with open homeliness;
That loven women not, as that I guess."

To slaunder women thus, what may profit
To gentles? namely, that them armen should,
And in defence of women them delight
As that the Order of Gentilesse would?
If that a man list gentle to be held
He must all flee that thereto is contrary.
A slanderous tongue is his great adversary!
A foul vice is of tongue to be light.
For whoso mochil clappeth, gabbeth oft.
The Tongue of Man so swift is, and so wight
That when it is yraisèd up on loft,
Reason it sueth so slowly and soft,
That it him never overtaken may.
Lord! so these men been trusty in assay!
Albeit that men find one woman nice,
Inconstant, recheless, and variable,
Deignous and proud, full fillèd of malice,
Withouten faith or love, and deceivable,
Sly, quaint, false, in all untrust culpable,
Wicked or fierce, or full of cruelty:
Yet followeth not that such all women be!
When the high God angellis formèd had,
Among them alle formed were there none
That founden were malicious and bad?
Yes! all men wot that there were many one
That for their pridé fell from heaven anon.
Should we, forthy, give all angels proud name?
Nay, he that that sustaineth, is to blame!

Of twelve Apostles, one a traitor was;
The remenant yet good weren and true.
So if it happen men finden, percase,
A woman false; such good is to eschew:
And deemé not that they be all untrue.
I see well, that men's owné falseness
Them causeth woman for to trust the less.
O, every man ought have a hearté tender
Unto woman, and deem her honourable;
Whether her shape be thick, or else slender,
Or she be good or bad! It is no fable.
Every wight wot, that wit hath reasonable,
That of a woman, he descendèd is:
Then is it shame of her to speak amiss!
A wicked tree good fruit may none forth bring;
For such the fruit is aye as is the tree.
Take heed of whom thou took thy beginning!
Let thy mother be mirror unto thee!
Honour her, if thou wilt honoured be!
Despiseth her then not, in no manere!
Lest that thereby thy wickedness appear.
An old proverb there said is, in English,
That bird or fowl, soothly, is dishonest
What that he be, and holden full churlish
That useth to defoulen his own nest.
Men to say well of women, it is the best:
And naught for to despise them, ne deprave;
If that they will their honour keep or save.

The Ladies ever complainen them on Clerks
That they have made bookis of their defame;
In which they despise women and their works,
And speaken of them great reproof and shame:
And causèless give them a wicked name.
Thus they despisèd be, on every side,
Dislanderèd and blown upon full wide.
Those sorry bookes maken mention
How women betrayed in especial
Adam, David, Sampson, and Solomon,
And many one more; who may rehearse them all,
The treasons that they havé done, and shall?
The world their malice may not comprehend
(As Clerkis feign), for it ne hath none end.
Ovid, in his book called Remedy
Of Lovè, great reproof of woman writeth,
Wherein, I know that he did great folly;
And every wight who, in such case, him delighteth.
A Clerkis custom is, when he enditeth
Of women (be it prose, or rhyme, or verse)
Say, "They be wicked!" all know he the reverse.
And the book Scholars learned in their childhead
For they of women beware should in age,
And for to love them ever be in dread.
Sith to deceive is set all their courage,
They say peril to cast is advantage,
Namely, of such as men have in been wrapped:
For many a man, by woman hath mishapped.

No charge is what so that these Clerkis sain
Of all their writing I ne do no cure
All their labour and travail is in vain
For between me and my Lady Nature
Shall not be suffred, while the world may 'dure.
Thus these Clerkis, by their cruel tyranny,
On silly women kithen their mastery.
Whilom full many of them were in my chain
Ytied; and now, what for unwieldy age
And unlust, they may not to love attain:
And sain that "Love is but very dotage!"
Thus, for that they themself lacken courage,
They folk exciten by their wicked saws
For to rebell against me, and my laws!
But, maugre them that blamen women most,
Such is the force of mine impression
That, suddenly, I can fell all their boast,
And all their wrong imagination.
It shall not be in their election
The foulest slut in all the town to refuse;
If that me list, for all that they can muse:
But her in heart as brenningly desire
As though she were a Duchess, or a Queen;
So can I folkis heartis set on fire
And, as me list, them senden joy or teen.
They that to women ben ywhet so keen,
My sharpè piercing strokis, how they smite,
Shall feel and know, and how they kerve and bite!

Pardie! this Clerk, this subtle sly Ovid
And many another have deceived be
Of women, as it knowen is full wide.
What! no men more! and that is great dainty
So excellent a Clerk as was he!
And other more, that coulde full well preach
Betrapped were, for aught that they could teach!
And trusteth well, that it is no marvail!
For women knowen plainly their intent.
They wist how softily they could assail
Them; and what falsehood they in heartè meant:
And thus they Clerkis in their danger hent,
With one venom, another is destroyed!
And thus these Clerkis often were annoyed.
These Ladies, ne these gentles ne'ertheless,
Where none of those that wroughten in this wise;
But such women as weren vertueless
They quittin thus these old Clerkis wise.
To Clerkis muchil less ought to suffice
Than to dispraven women generally;
For worship shall they geten noon thereby.
If that these men, that lovers them pretend,
To women weren faithful, good, and true,
And dread them to deceive, or to offend;
Women, to love them wouldé not eschew.
But, every day hath man an harté new!
It upon one abiden can no while.
What force is it, such a wight to beguile?

Men bearen, eke, the women upon hand
That lightly, and withouten any pain
They wonnen be; they can no wight withstand
That his disease list to them to complain!
They be so frail, they may them not refrain!
But whoso liketh them may lightly have;
So be their heartis easy in to grave.
To Master Jean de Meun, as I suppose,
Then, it is a lewd occupation,
In making of the Romance of the Rose,
So many a sly imagination,
And perils for to rollen up and down,
So long process, so many a sly cautel
For to deceive a silly damosel!
Nought can I see, ne my wit comprehend,
That art, and pain, and subtilty should fail
For to conquer, and soon to make an end;
When men a feeble placé shall assail:
And soon, also, to vanquish a battle
Of which no wight shall maken resistance;
Ne heart hath none to stonden at defence.
Then mote it follow, of necessity,
Sith art asketh so great engine and pain
A woman to deceive, what so she be?
Of constancy be they not so barren
As that some of these subtle Clerkis feign;
But they be, as that women oughten be,
Sad, constant, and fulfilled of pity.

How friendly was Medea to Jason
In his Conquering of the Fleece of Gold!
How falsely quit he her true affection,
By whom victory he gat as he would!
How may this man, for shame, be so bold
To falsen her, that, from his death and shame
Him kept, and gat him so great a prize and name?
Of Troy also, the traitor Æneas,
The faithless wretch! how he himself forswor
To Dido, which that Queen of Carthage was
That him relievèd of his smartis sore!
What gentilessè might she have doon more
Than she, with heart unfeigned, to him kidde?
And what mischief to her thereof betid!
In my Legend of Martyrs may men find
(Whoso that liketh therein for to read)
That oathis ne behest may man not bind
Of reprovable shame have they no dread
In manis hearte truth ne hath no stead.
The soil is naught; there may be no trothè grow!
To women, namely, it is not unknown.
Clerkis feign also there is no malice
Like unto woman's wicked crabbedness.
O Woman! how shalt thou thyself chevice;
Sith men of thee so mochil harm witness?
Beth ware! O Woman! of their fickleness.
Kepeth thine ownè! what men clap or crake!
And some of them shall smart, I undertake!

Malice of women! What is it to dread?
They slay no man, destroyen no cities,
Ne oppress people, ne them overlead,
Betray Empires, Realmes, or Duchies,
Nor bereaven men their landis, ne their mees,
Empoison folk, ne houses set on fire,
Ne false contractis maken for no hire.
Trust, Perfect Love, and Entire Charity,
Fervent Will, and Entalented Courage,
All thewis good, as sitteth well to be,
Have women ay, of custom and usage.
And well they can a manis ire assuage,
With softè wordis, discreet and benign.
What they be inward, they show outward by sign.
Womanis heart unto no cruelty
Inclined is; but they be Charitable,
Piteous, Devout, Full of Humility,
Shamefastè, Debonaire, and Amiable,
Dread full, and of their wordis measurable:
What women, these have not, peradventure;
Followeth not the way of her nature.
Men sayen that our First Mother na'theless
Made all mankinde lose his liberty,
And nakid it of joyè, doubteless,
For Godis hestès disobeyed she,
When she presumed to taste of the tree,
That God forbade that she eat thereof should.
And ne had the Devil be, no more she would!

The envious swelling, that the Fiend our foe
Had unto man in heartè, for his wealth,
Sent a serpent, and made her for to go
To deceive Eve; and thus was manis health
Bereft him by the Fiend, right in a stealth,
The woman not knowing of the deceit,
God wot! Full far was it from her conceit!
Wherefore I say, that this good woman Eve
Our father Adam, ne deceived nought.
There may no man for a deceit it preve
Properly, but if that she, in heart and thought,
Had it compassed first, ere she it wrought.
And for such was not her impression,
Men may it call no Deceit, by reason.
Ne no wight deceiveth, but he purpose!
The fiend this deceit cast, and nothing she.
Then it is wrong to deemen or suppose
That of this harm she should the causè be.
Wytith the Fiend, and his be the maugree!
And all excusèd have her innocence,
Save only, that she brake obedience!
And touching this, full fewè men there be,
Unnethis any, dare I safely say!
From day to day, as men may all day see,
But that the hest of God they disobey.
Have this in mindè, siris! I you pray.
If that ye be discreet and reasonable;
Ye will her holdè the more excusable!

And where men say, "In man is stedfastness;
And woman is of her courage unstable."
Who may of Adam bear such a witness?
Tellith me this! Was he not changeable?
They bothè werin in one case semblable.
Save that willing the Fiend deceived Eve;
And so did she not Adam, by your leave!
Yet was this sinnè happy to mankind,
The Fiend deceivèd was, for all his sleight;
For aught he could him in his sleightis wind,
God, to discharge man of the heavy weight
Of his trespass, came down from heaven on height
And flesh and blood he took of a Virgine,
And suffered death, him to deliver of pine.
And God, to whom there may nothing hid be,
If He in woman knowen had such malice,
As men record of them in generalty;
Of our Lady, of Life Reparatrice
Nold have been born: but for that she of vice
Was void, and full of virtue, well He wist,
Endowid! of her to be born Him list.
Her heapèd virtue hath such excellence
That all too lean is manis faculty
To declare it; and therefore in suspense
Her due praising put must needis be.
But this we witen, verily, that she,
Next God, the best friend is that to Man 'longeth.
The Key of Mercy by her girdle hangeth!

And of mercy hath every man such need,
That razing that, farewel the joy of man!
And of her power, now takith right good heed!
She mercy may well and purchasen can.
Depleasith her not! Honoureth that woman!
And other women honour for her sake!
And but ye do, your sorrow shall awake!
In any book also, where can ye find
That of the workis, or the death or life,
Of Jesu spelleth or maketh any mind,
That women Him forsook, for woe or strife?
Where was there any wight so ententife
Abouten Him as woman? Proved none!
The Apostles him forsooken everichone.
Woman forsook him not! For all the faith
Of holy church in woman left only!
These are no lies, for Holy Writ thus saith,
Look! and ye shall so find it hardily!
And therefore I may well proven thereby
That in woman reigneth stable constancy;
And in men is change and variancy.
Thou Precious Gem of martyrs, Margarite!
That of thy blood dreadest none effusion!
Thou Lover true! Thou Maiden mansuete!
Thou, constant Woman! in thy passion
Overcame the Fiendis temptation!
And many a wight convertid thy doctrine,
Unto the faith of God, holy Virgin!

But, understandeth this! I commend her nought,
By encheson of her virginity.
Trusteth, it came never into thought!
For ever werry against Chastity.
And ever shall. But, lo, this moveth me,
Her loving heart and constant to her lay
Drove out of my remembrance I ne may.

Now holdith this for firm, and for no lie!
That this true and just commendation
Of women tell I for no flattery;
Nor because of pride or elation:
But only, lo! for this intention
To give them courage of perseverance
In virtue, and their honour to advance.
The more the virtue, the less is the pride.
Virtue so digne is, and so noble in kind,
That Vice and he will not in fere abide.
He putteth vices clean out of his mind,
He flyeth from them, he leaveth them behind.
O, Woman! that of Virtue, art hostess;
Great is thy honour, and thy worthiness!

Then will I thus concluden and define.
We, you command! our ministers each one
That ready ye be our hestès to incline!
That of these falsè men, our rebell foon,
Ye do punishèment! and that, anon!
Void them our Court! and banish them for ever!
So that therein more comen may they never!

Fulfilled be it! Ceasing all delay,
Look that there be none excusation!
Written in the air, the lusty month of May,
In our Palace, where many a million
Of lovers true, have habitation;
In the year of grace, joyful and jocond,
A thousand and four hundred and second.

Thus endeth

The letter of Cupid.

---

The Ballad of

Robin Hood.

The first printed edition by

Wynkyn de Worde,

about 1510.

ithe and listen, Gentlemen
That be of free-born blood!
I shall you tell of a good yeoman:
His name was Robin Hood.
Robin was a proud outlaw,
Whiles he walked on ground,
So courteous an outlaw as he was one,
Was never none yfound.
Robin stood in Bernysdale,
And leaned him to a tree;
And by him stood Little John,
A good yeoman was he:
And also did good Scathelock,
And Much the miller's son,
There was no inch of his body
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 bespake good Robin,
"To dine I have no lust,
Till I have some bold Baron,
Or some unketh guest,
That may pay for the best,
Or some Knight or some Squire
That dwelleth here by West."
A good manner then had Robin,
In land where that he were,
Every day or 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, aldermost.
Robin loved our dear Lady;
For doubt of deadly sin,
Would he never do company harm
That any woman was in.
"Master!" then said Little John,
"And we our board shall spread,
Tell us, Whither we shall gone,
And what life we shall lead?
Where we shall take? Where we shall leave?
Where we shall abide behind?
Where shall we rob? where shall we 'reave?
Where we shall beat and bind?"
"Thereof no force!" said Robin,
"We shall do well enough!
But look, ye do no husband harm,
That tilleth with his plough!
No more ye shall no good yeoman
That walketh by green-wood shaw!
Ne no Knight, ne no Squire
That would be a good fellaw!
These Bishops and these Archbishops,
Ye shall them beat and bind!
The High Sheriff of Nottingham,
Him hold ye in your mind!"
"This word shall be held," saith Little John,
"And this lesson shall we lere!
It is far day, God send us a guest,
That we were at our dinnèr!"
"Take thy good 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 to the Sayles,
And so to Watling street,
And wait after some unketh guest,
Upchance, ye may them meet:
Be he Earl or any Baron,
Abbot or any Knight,
Bring him to lodge to me!
His dinner shall be dight!"
They went unto the Sayles,
These yeomen all three;
They looked East, they looked West,
They might no man see.
But as they looked in Bernysdale,
By a derne street,
Then came there a Knight riding:
Full soon they 'gan him meet.
All dreary then was his semblante,
And little was his pride,
His one foot in the stirrup stood,
That other waved beside.
His hood hanged in 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 curteys,
And set him on his knee,
"Welcome be ye, gentle Knight!
Welcome are ye to me!
Welcome be thou to green wood,
Hende Knight and free!
My master hath abiden you fasting,
Sir! all these hours 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 Doncaster."
Forth then went that gentle Knight,
With a careful cheer;
The tears out of his eyen ran,
And fell down by his leer.
They brought him unto the lodge door:
When Robin 'gan him see,
Full courteously did off his hood,
And set him on his knee.
"Welcome, Sir Knight!" then said Robin,
"Welcome thou art to me;
I have abide you fasting, Sir,
All these hours three!"
Then answered the gentle Knight
With words fair and free,
"God thee save, good Robin!
And all thy fair meiny!"
They washed together, and wiped both;
And set till their dinner:
Bread and wine they had enough,
And nombles of the deer;
Swans and pheasants they had full good,
And fowls of the rivèr.
There failed never so little a bird
That ever was bred on brere.
"Do gladly, Sir Knight!" said Robin.
"Grammercy, Sir!" said he,
"Such a dinner had I not
Of all these weekes three:
If I come again, Robin,
Here by this country,
As good a dinner, I shall thee make
As thou hast made to me!"
"Grammercy, Knight!" said Robin,
"My dinner when I have
I was never so greedy, by dear-worthy God!
My dinner for to crave:
But pay ere ye wend!" said Robin;
"Methinketh it is good right,
It was never the manner, by dear-worthy God!
A yeoman 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 Hood,
"Ne let not, for no blame,
Tell me truth!" said Robin,
"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 Robin,
"I will not one penny!
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,
Not one penny that I see!"
Little John spread down his mantle
Full fair upon the ground;
And there he found, in the Knight's coffer,
But even half a pound.
Little John let it lie full still,
And went to his master full low.
"What tidings, John?" said Robin.
"Sir, the Knight is true enow!"
"Fill of the best wine!" said Robin,
"The Knight shall begin!
Much wonder thinketh me
Thy clothing is so thin!
Tell me one word," said Robin,
"And counsel shall it be:
I trow thou wert made a Knight, of force,
Or else of yeomanry!
Or else thou hast been a sorry husband
And lived in stroke and strife,
And okerer or else a lecher," said Robin,
"With wrong hast thou led thy life!"
"I am none of them," said the Knight,
"By God that made me!
A hundred winters herebefore,
My ancestors Knights have be
But oft it hath befallen, Robin!
A man hath been disgrate,
But God that sitteth in heaven above,
May amend his state!
Within this two year, Robin!" he said,
"(My neighbours well it know!)
Four hundred pounds of good money
Full well then might I spend.
Now, have I no goods," said the Knight;
"God hath shapen such an end,—
But my children and my wife,
Till God it may amend!"
"In what manner," said Robin,
"Hast thou lost thy riches?"
"For my great folly," he said,
"And for my kindness!
I had a son, forsooth, Robin!
That should have been my heir:
When he was twenty winters old,
In field would joust full fair.
He slew a Knight of Lancashire
And a Squire bold.
For to save him in his right
My goods be set and sold,
My lands be set to wed, Robin!
Until a certain day
To a rich Abbot here besides,
Of Saint Mary's Abbey."
"What is the sum?" said Robin;
"Truth then tell thou me!"
"Sir," he said, "four hundred pounds,
The Abbot told it to me!"
"Now, and thou lose thy land!" said Robin,
"What shall 'fall of thee?"
"Hastily I will me busk," said the Knight,
"Over the salt sea,
And see where Christ was quick and dead
On the Mount of Calvary!
Farewell, friend! and have good day!
It may not better be!"
Tears fell out of his eyen two,
He would have gone his way.
"Farewell, friends, and have good day!
I ne have more to pay!"
"Where be thy friends?" said Robin.
"Sir! never one will know me!
While I was rich enough at home
Great boast then would they blow;
And now they run away from me
As beasts in a row,
They take no more heed of me
Than they me never saw!"
For ruth then wept Little John,
Scathelock and Much also.
"Fill of the best wine!" said Robin,
"For here is a simple cheer.
Hast thou any friends," said Robin,
"The borrows that will be?"
"I have none!" then said the Knight,
"But God that died on the tree!"
"Do way thy japes!" said Robin,
"Thereof will I right none!
Weenest thou I will have God to borrow,
Peter, Paul, or John?
Nay, by Him that me made,
And shaped both sun and moon!
Find a better borrow," 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 Lady
She failed me never or this day!"
"By dear worthy God!" said Robin,
"To seek all England through,
Yet found I never to my pay
A much better borrow!
Come now forth, Little John!
And go to my treasure!
And bring me four hundred pound,
And look that it well told be!"
Forth then went Little John
And Scathelock went before,
He told out four hundred pound
By eighteen [? eight and twenty] score.
"Is this well told?" say Little Much."
John said, "What grieveth thee?
It is alms to help a gentle Knight
That is fallen in poverty!"
"Master!" then said Little John,
"His clothing is full thin!
Ye must give the Knight a livery
To lap his body therein:
For ye have scarlet and green, Master!
And many a rich array;
There is no merchant in merry England
So rich, I dare well say."
"Take him three yards of every colour,
And look it well meeted be!"
Little John took none other measure
But his bow tree;
And of every handful that he met
He leaped over feet three.
"What devilkins draper!" said Little Much,
"Thinkst thou to be?"
Scathelock stood full still, and laughed,
And said "By God Almight!
John may give him the better measure,
For it cost him but light!"
"Master!" said Little John,
All unto Robin Hood,
"Ye must give the Knight an horse
To lead home all this good."
"Take him a grey courser!" said Robin,
"And a saddle new!
He is Our Lady's Messenger;
God leve that he be true!"
"And a good palfrey," said Little Much,
"To maintain him in his right!"
"And a pair of boots," said Scathelock,
"For he is a gentle Knight!"
"What shalt thou give him, Little John?" said Robin,
"Sir; a pair of gilt spurs clean,
To pray for all this company;
God bring him out of teen!"
"When shall my day be," said the Knight,
"Sir! and your will be?"
"This day twelvemonth!" said Robin,
"Under this green-wood tree.
It were great shame," said Robin,
"A Knight alone to ride;
Without Squire, yeoman, or page,
To walk by his side!
I shall thee lend, Little John, my man;
For he shall be thy knave!
In a yeoman's stead, he may thee stand,
If thou great need have!"

The second fytte.

ow is the Knight went on his way,
This game him thought full good,
When he looked on Bernysdale,
He blessèd Robin Hood:
And when he bethought on Bernysdale,
On Scathelock, Much, and John;
He blessed them for the best company
That ever he in come.
Then spake that gentle Knight,
To Little John 'gan he say,
"To-morrow, I must to York town,
To Saint Mary's Abbey,
And to the Abbot of that place
Four hundred pound I must pay:
And but I be there upon this night
My land is lost for aye!"
The Abbot said to his Convent,
There he stood on ground:
"This day twelve months came there a Knight,
And borrowed four hundred pound.
[He borrowed four hundred pound]
Upon his land and fee;
But he come this ilk day
Disherited shall he be!"
"It is full early!" said the Prior,
"The day is not yet far gone!
I had lever to pay an hundred pound
And lay [it] down anon.
The Knight is far beyond the sea
In England is his right,
And suffereth hunger and cold
And many a sorry night:
It were great pity," said the Prior,
"So to have his land:
And ye be so light of your conscience
Ye do to him much wrong!"
"Thou art ever in my beard," said the Abbot;
"By God and Saint Richard!"
With that came in, a fat-headed monk,
The High Cellarer.
"He is dead or hanged!" said the Monk,
"By God that bought me dear!
And we shall have to spend in this place,
Four hundred pounds by year!"
The Abbot and High Cellarer
Start forth full bold:
The Justice of England,
The Abbot there did hold.
The High Justice, and many mo,
Had taken into their hand
Wholly all the Knight's debt,
To put that Knight to wrong.
They deemed the Knight wonder sore
The Abbot and his meiny,
But he come this ilk day
Disherited shall he be.
"He will not come yet," said the Justice,
"I dare well undertake!"
But in sorrow time for them all,
The Knight came to the gate.
Then bespake that gentle Knight
Until his meiny,
"Now, put on your simple weeds
That ye brought from the sea!"
[They put on their simple weeds,]
They came to the gates anon,
The Porter was ready himself,
And welcomed them everych one.
"Welcome, Sir Knight!" said the Porter;
"My Lord, to meat is he;
And so is many a gentleman
For the love of thee!"
The Porter swore a full great oath
"By God that made me!
Here be the best coresed horse
That ever yet saw I me!
Lead them into the stable!" he said,
"That easèd might they be!"
"They shall not come therein!" said the Knight,
"By God that died on a tree!"
Lords were to meat yset
In that Abbot's hall:
The Knight went forth, and kneeled down,
And salued them, great and small.
"Do gladly, Sir Abbot!" said the Knight,
"I am come to hold my day!"
The first word the Abbot spake,
"Hast thou brought my pay?"
"Not one penny!" said the Knight,
"By God that makèd me!"
"Thou art a shrewd debtor!" said the Abbot;
"Sir Justice, drink to me!
What doest thou here," said the Abbot,
"But thou hadst brought thy pay?"
"For God!" then said the Knight,
"To pray of a longer day!"
"Thy day is broke!" said the Justice;
"Land gettest thou none!"
"Now, good Sir Justice! be my friend!
And fend me of my fone!"
"I am hold with the Abbot!" said the Justice,
"Both with cloth and fee!"
"Now, good Sir Sheriff! be my friend!"
"Nay, for God!" said he.
"Now, good Sir Abbot! be my friend!
For thy courtesy;
And hold my lands in thy hand
Till I have made thee gree:
And I will be thy true servant
And truly serve thee
Till ye have four hundred pounds
Of money good and free."
The Abbot sware a full great oath,
"By God that died on a tree!
Get thee land where thou mayest;
For thou gettest none of me!"
"By dear worthy God," then said the Knight,
"That all this world wrought!
But I have my land again,
Full dear it shall be bought!
God that was of Maiden born,
Leave us well to speed!
For it is good to assay a friend
Or that a man have need!"
The Abbot loathly on him 'gan call:
And villainously him 'gan look:
"Out," he said, "thou false Knight!
Speed thee out of my hall!"
"Thou liest!" then said the gentle Knight,
"Abbot in thy hall!
False Knight was I never,
By God that made us all!"
Up then stood that gentle Knight:
To the Abbot, said he,
"To suffer a Knight to kneel so long,
Thou canst no courtesy!
In jousts and in tournament
Full far then have I be;
And put myself as far in press
As any that ever I see."
"What will ye give more," said the Justice,
"And the Knight shall make a release?
And else I dare safely swear
Ye hold never your land in peace!"
"An hundred pounds!" said the Abbot.
The Justice said, "Give him two!"
"Nay, by God!" said the Knight,
"Yet get ye it not so!
Though ye would give a thousand more,
Yet wert thou never the near!
Shalt there never be mine heir,
Abbot! Justice! ne Friar!"
He started him to a board anon,
Till a table round,
And there he shook out of a bag
Even four hundred pound.
"Have here thy gold, Sir Abbot!" said the Knight,
"Which that thou lentest me!
Hadst thou been courteous at my coming,
Rewarded shouldst thou have be!"
The Abbot sat still, and eat no more,
For all his royal fare:
He cast his head on his shoulder,
And fast began to stare.
"Take me my gold again!" said the Abbot,
"Sir Justice, that I took thee!"
"Not a penny!" said the Justice,
"By God that died on the tree!"
"Sir Abbot, and ye Men of Law!
Now have I held my day!
Now shall I have my land again
For ought that you can say!"
The Knight started out of the door,
Away was all his care!
And on he put his good clothing,
The other he left there.
He went him forth full merry singing
As men have told in tale,
His Lady met him at the gate
At home in Verysdale.
"Welcome, my Lord!" said his Lady,
"Sir, lost is all your good?"
"Be merry, Dame!" said the Knight,
"And pray for Robin Hood!
That ever his soul be in bliss;
He helped me out of my teen.
Ne had not been his kindness,
Beggars had we been!
The Abbot and I accorded be;
He is served of his pay!
The good yeoman lent it me,
As I came by the way."
This Knight then dwelled fair at home,
The sooth for to say,
Till he had got four hundred pounds
All ready for to pay.
He purveyed him an hundred bows,
The strings well dight;
An hundred sheafs of arrows good,
The heads burnished full bright:
And every arrow an ell long
With peacock well ydight;
Ynocked all with white silver,
It was a seemly sight.
He purveyed him an hundred men,
Well harnessed in that stead,
And himself in that same set
And clothed in white and red.
He bare a lancegay in his hand,
And a man led his mail,
And riden with a light song
Unto Bernysdale.
But at Wentbridge there was a wrestling,
And there tarried was he:
And there was all the best yeomen
Of all the West country.
A full fair game there was up set;
A white bull up i-pight;
A great courser, with saddle and bridle
With gold burnished full bright;
A pair of gloves, a red gold ring,
A pipe of wine, in fay:
What man beareth him best, Iwis
The prize shall bear away.
There was a yeoman in that place,
And best worthy was he.
And for he was far and fremd bestead
Yslain he should have be.
The Knight had ruth of his yeoman
In place where that he stood:
He said, "The yeoman should have no harm,
For love of Robin Hood!"
The Knight pressed into the place,
An hundred followed him free,
With bows bent and arrows sharp
For to shend that company.
They shouldered all and made him room
To wit what he would say;
He took the yeoman by the hand
And gave him all the play;
He gave him five marks for his wine,
There it laid on the mould:
And bade it should be set abroach,
Drink who so would!
Thus long tarried this gentle Knight
Till that play was done:
So long abode Robin fasting,
Three hours after the noon.

The third fytte.

ithe 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.

he 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.

ow 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.

ithe and listen, Gentlemen!
And hearken unto your song!
How the proud Sheriff of Nottingham
And men of armès strong
Full fast came to the High Sheriff
The country up to rout,
And they beset the Knight's Castle,
The walls all about.
The proud Sheriff loud 'gan cry
And said, "Thou traitor Knight!
Thou keepest here the King's enemy!
Against the laws and right!"
"Sir, I will avow that I have done
The deeds that here be dight,
Upon all the lands that I have,
As I am a true Knight,
Wend forth, Sirs, on your way;
And do no more to me,
Till ye wit our King's will
What he will say to thee!"
The Sheriff thus, had his answer
Without any leasing.
Forth he yode to London town,
All for to tell the King.
There he told them of that Knight,
And eke of Robin Hood;
And also of the bold archers,
That noble were and good.
He would avow that he had done
To maintain the outlaws strong;
He would be Lord, and set you at nought
In all the North land.
"I will be at Nottingham," said the King,
"Within this fortnight!
And take I will, Robin Hood;
And so I will that Knight!
Go now home, Sheriff," said the King,
"And do as I thee bid.
And ordain good archers ynow
Of all the wide country!"
The Sheriff had his leave ytake;
And went him on his way.
And Robin Hood to green wood,
Upon a certain day,
And Little John was whole of the arrow
That shot was in his knee;
And did him straight to Robin Hood
Under the green-wood tree.
Robin Hood walked in the forest
Under the leavès green,
The proud Sheriff of Nottingham,
Thereof he had great teen.
The Sheriff there failed of Robin Hood
He might not have his prey.
Then he awaited this gentle Knight,
Both by night and by day.
Ever he awaited that gentle Knight,
Sir Richard at the Lee,
As he went on hawking by the river side
And let his hawks flee;
Took he there, this gentle Knight,
With men of armès strong,
And led him home to Nottingham ward
Ybound both foot and hand.
The Sheriff swore a full great oath,
By Him that died on rood,
He had lever than a hundred pound
That he had Robin Hood.
This heard the Knight's wife
A fair Lady and free,
She set her on a good palfrey;
To green wood anon rode she.
When she came to the forest,
Under the green-wood tree,
Found she there Robin Hood
And all his fair meiny.
"God [save] thee, good Robin!
And all thy company,
For our dear Lady's love
A boon, grant thou me!
Let thou never my wedded Lord
Shamely yslain be!
He is fast ybound to Nottingham ward.
For the love of thee!"
Anon then said good Robin,
To that Lady free:
"What man hath your Lord ytake?"
"For sooth, as I thee say,
He is not yet three miles
Passèd on your way."
Up then started good Robin,
As a man that had been wood;
"Busk you, my merry young men,
For Him that died on a rood!
And he that this sorrow forsaketh,
By Him that died on a tree!
Shall he never in green wood be,
Nor longer dwell with me!"
Soon there were good bows ybent,
Mo than seven score;
Hedge ne ditch spare they none
That were them before.
"I make mine avow to God," said Robin,
"The Knight would I fain see;
And if I may him take,
Yquit then shall it be!"
And when they came to Nottingham
They walkèd in the street,
And with the proud Sheriff ywis
Soon gan they meet.
"Abide, thou proud Sheriff!" he said,
"Abide, and speak with me!
Of some tidings of our King
I would fain hear of thee!
This seven year, by dear-worthy God!
Ne yede I so fast on foot;
I make mine avow to God, thou proud Sheriff!
That it is not for thy good."
Robin bent a good bow,
An arrow he drew at his will;
He hit so the proud Sheriff,
Upon the ground he lay full still:
And or he might up arise,
On his feet to stand;
He smote off the Sheriff's head,
With his bright brand.
"Lie thou there, thou proud Sheriff!
Evil might thou thrive!
There might no man to thee trust,
The whiles thou wert alive!"
His men drew out their bright swords,
That were so sharp and keen,
And laid on the Sheriff's men
And drived them down bydene.
Robin started to that Knight,
And cut a two his bond;
And took him in his hand a bow,
And bade him by him stand.
"Leave thy horse thee behind,
And learn for to run!
Thou shalt with me to green wood
Through mire, moss, and fen!
Thou shalt with me to green wood
Without any leasing,
Till that I have got us grace
Of Edward, our comely King."

The seventh fytte.

he King came to Nottingham
With Knights in great array
For to take that gentle Knight
And Robin Hood, if he may.
He asked men of that country
After Robin Hood,
And after that gentle Knight
That was so bold and stout.
When they had told him the case,
Our King understood their tale
And seizèd in his hand
The Knight's land all.
All the pass of Lancashire
He went both far and near;
Till he came to Plom[p]ton Park
He failed many of his deer.
There our King was wont to see
Herdès many a one,
He could unneath find one deer
That bare any good horn.
The King was wondrous wroth withal,
And swore, "By the Trinity!
I would I had Robin Hood!
With eyen I might him see!
And he that would smite off the Knight's head,
And bring it to me;
He shall have the Knight's lands
Sir Richard at the Lee.
I give it him with my charter,
And seal it [with] my hand,
To have and hold for evermore
In all merry England."
Then bespake a fair old Knight,
That was true in his fay,
"O my liege Lord the King,
One word I shall you say!
There is no man in this country
May have the Knight's lands
While Robin Hood may ride or gone
And bear a bow in his hands,
That he ne shall lose his head,
That is the best ball in his hood:
Give it to no man, my Lord the King!
That ye will any good!"
Half a year dwelled our comely King
In Nottingham, and well more,
Could he not hear of Robin Hood,
In what country that he were:
But always went good Robin
By halke and eke by hill,
And always slew the King's deer
And welt them at his will.
Then bespake a proud for'ster
That stood by our King's knee,
"If ye will see good Robin
Ye must do after me!
Take five of the best Knights
That be in your lead,
And walk down by yon Abbey
And get you monks' weed!
And I will be your leadsman
And lead you the way!
And or ye come to Nottingham,
Mine head then dare I lay!
That ye shall meet with good Robin,
In life if that he be:
Or ye come to Nottingham
With eyen ye shall him see!"
Full hastily our King was dight,
So were his Knightès five,
Everych of them in monks' weed,
And hasted them thither blithe.
Our King was great above his cowl,
A broad hat on his crown.
Right as he were Abbot like,
They rode up into the town.
Stiff boots our King had on,
For sooth as I you say,
He rode singing to green wood,
The convent was clothed in grey.
His mail horse and his great somers
Followed our King behind,
Till they came to green wood
A mile under the lynde.
There they met with good Robin
Standing on the way,
And so did many a bold archer,
For sooth as I you say.
Robin took the King's horse,
Hastily in that stead:
And said, "Sir Abbot! by your leave;
A while ye must abide!
We be yeoman of this forest,
Under the green-wood tree,
We live by our King's deer,
Under the green-wood tree;
And ye have churches and rents both,
And gold full great plenty:
Give us some of your spending,
For saint charity!"
Then bespake our comely King,
Anon then said he,
"I brought no more to green wood.
But forty pounds with me.
I have lain at Nottingham,
This fortnight with our King;
And spent I have full much good
On many a great Lording:
And I have but forty pounds,
No more than have I me.
But if I had a hundred pounds,
I would give it to thee!"
Robin took the forty pounds,
And departed it in two parts:
Halfendell he gave his merry men,
And bade them merry to be.
Full courteously Robin 'gan say,
"Sir, have this for your spending!
We shall meet another day."
"Grammercy!" then said our King.
"But well thee greeteth Edward our King,
And sent to thee his seal;
And biddeth thee come to Nottingham,
Both to meat and meal!"
He took out the broad targe
And soon he let him see.
Robin could his courtesy,
And set him on his knee.
"I love no man in all the world
So well as I do my King!
Welcome is my Lord's seal!
And monk for thy tiding,
Sir Abbot, for thy tidings,
To-day, thou shalt dine with me!
For the love of my King,
Under my trystel tree."
Forth he led our comely King
Full fair by the hand;
Many a deer there was slain,
And full fast dightand.
Robin took a full great horn,
And loud he 'gan blow,
Seven score of wight young men
Came ready on a row.
All they kneeled on their knee
Full fair before Robin.
The King said, himself until,
And swore, "By Saint Austin!
Here is a wondrous seemly sight!
Methinketh, by God's pine!
His men are more at his bidding
Than my men be at mine."
Full hastily was their dinner ydight,
And thereto 'gan they gone;
They served our King with all their might,
Both Robin and Little John.
Anon before our King was set
The fat venison,
The good white bread, the good red wine,
And thereto the fine ale brown.
"Make good cheer!" said Robin,
"Abbot, for charity!
And for this ilk tiding
Blessèd might thou be!
Now shalt thou see what life we lead,
Or thou hence wend,
That thou may inform our King
When ye together lend."
Up they start all in haste,
Their bows were smartly bent:
Our King was never so sore aghast;
He wended to have been shent!
Two yards there were up set
Thereto 'gan they gang.
"By fifty paces," our King said,
"The marks were too long!"
On every side a rose garland,
They shot under the line.
"Whoso faileth of the rose garland," saith Robin,
"His tackle he shall tine,
And yield it to his Master,
Be it never so fine!
(For no man will I spare,
So drink I ale or wine!)
And bear a buffet on his head
Iwis right all bare."
And all that fell in Robin's lot,
He smote them wondrous sore.
Twice Robin shot about,
And ever he cleaved the wand;
And so did good "Gilbert,
With the good white hand."
Little John and good Scathelock,
For nothing would they spare.
When they failed of the garland
Robin smote them full sore.
At the last shot, that Robin shot
For all his friends' fare;
Yet he failed of the garland
Three fingers and more.
Then bespake good Gilbert,
And thus he 'gan say,
"Master," he said, "your tackle is lost,
Stand forth and take your pay!"
"If it be so," said Robin,
"That may no better be;
Sir Abbot, I deliver thee mine arrow!
I pray thee, Sir, serve thou me!"
"It falleth not for mine order," said our King,
"Robin, by thy leave,
For to smite no good yeoman,
For doubt I should him grieve."
"Smite on boldly," said Robin,
"I give thee large leave!"
Anon our King, with that word,
He folded up his sleeve,
And such a buffet he gave Robin,
To ground he yede full near.
"I make mine avow to God," said Robin,
"Thou art a stalwart frere!
There is pith in thine arm," said Robin,
"I trow thou canst well shoot."
Thus our King and Robin Hood,
Together then they met.
Robin beheld our comely King,
Wistly in the face:
So did Sir Richard at the Lee,
And kneeled down in that place.
And so did all the wild outlaws,
When they see them kneel.
"My Lord, the King of England,
Now I know you well."
"Mercy, then, Robin," said our King,
"Under your trystel tree,
Of thy goodness and thy grace,
For my men and me!"
"Yes, for God!" said Robin,
"and also God me save!
I ask mercy, my Lord the King,
And for my men I crave!"
"Yes, for God!" then said our King,
"And thereto 'sent I me;
With that thou leave the green wood,
And all thy company;
And come home, Sir, to my Court,
And there dwell with me."
"I make mine avow to God!" said Robin,
"And right so shall it be,
I will come to your Court,
Your service for to see!
And bring with me, of my men,
Seven score and three.
But me like well your service,
I come again full soon;
And shoot at the dun deer
As I wont to done."

The eighth fytte.

ast thou any green cloth," said our King,
"That thou wilt sell now to me?"
"Yea, for God!" said Robin,
"Thirty yards and three."
"Robin," said our King,
"Now pray I thee!
Sell me some of that cloth
To me and my meiny."
"Yes, for God!" then said Robin,
"Or else I were a fool!
Another day ye will me clothe,
I trow against the yule."
The King cast off his cowl then,
A green garment he did on,
And every knight also, i-wis,
Another had full soon.
When they were clothed in Lincoln green,
They cast away their gray.
"Now we shall to Nottingham!
All thus," our King 'gan say.
Their bows bent, and forth they went,
Shooting all in-fere
Toward the town of Nottingham,
Outlaws as they were.
Our King and Robin rode together,
For sooth as I you say,
And they shot Pluck-buffet,
As they went by the way.
And many a buffet our King won
Of Robin Hood that day;
And nothing spared good Robin
Our King in his pay.
"So God me help!" said our King,
"Thy game is nought to lere;
I should not get a shot of thee,
Though I shoot all this year!"
All the people of Nottingham,
They stood and beheld,
They saw nothing but mantles of green
That covered all the field:
Then every man to other 'gan say,
"I dread our King be slone;
Come Robin Hood to the town, ywis
In life he left never one!"
Full hastily they began to flee,
Both yeomen and knaves,
And old wives that might evil go
They hippèd on their staves.
The King laughed full fast,
And commanded them again:
When they see our comely King
I-wis they were full fain.
They eat and drank and made them glad,
And sang with notès high.
Then bespake our comely King
To Sir Richard at the Lee:
He gave him there his land again;
A good man he bade him be.
Robin thanked our comely King
And set him on his knee.
Had Robin dwelled in the King's Court
But twelve months and three;
That he had spent an hundred pound,
And all his men's fee.
In every place where Robin came,
Evermore he laid down,
Both for Knights and for Squires
To get him great renown.
By then the year was all agone
He had no man but twain,
Little John and good Scathelock
With him all for to gone.
Robin saw young men shoot
Full far upon a day.
"Alas," then said good Robin,
"My wealth is went away!
Sometime I was an archer good,
A stiff, and eke a strong,
I was counted the best archèr
That was in merry England.
Alas," then said good Robin,
"Alas, and well a wo!
If I dwell longer with the King,
Sorrow will me slo!"
Forth then went Robin Hood,
Till he came to our King:
"My Lord the King of England,
Grant me mine asking!
I made a chapel in Bernysdale,
That seemly is to see:
It is of Mary Magdalene;
And thereto would I be!
I might never in this seven night
No time to sleep ne wink;
Neither all these seven days
Neither eat ne drink:
Me longeth sore to Bernysdale.
I may not be therefro,
Barefoot and woolward I have hight
Thither for to go."
"If it be so," then said our King,
"It may no better be!
Seven nights I give thee leave,
No longer, to dwell from me."
"Grammercy, Lord!" then said Robin,
And set him on his knee.
He took his leave full courteously
To green wood then went he.
When he came to green wood
In a merry morning,
There he heard the notès small
Of birds, merry singing.
"It is far gone," said Robin,
"That I was last here.
Me list a little for to shoot
At the dun deer."
Robin slew a full great hart,
His horn then 'gan he blow,
That all the outlaws of that forest,
That horn could they know.
And gathered them together
In a little throw,
Seven score of wight young men
Came ready on a row,
And fair did off their hoods
And set them on their knee.
"Welcome!" they said, "our Master!
Under this green-wood tree!"
Robin dwelled in green wood
Twenty years and two;
For all dread of Edward our King
Again would he not go.
Yet was he beguiled i-wis
Through a wicked woman,
The Prioress of Kirkesley.
That nigh was of his kin,
For the love of a Knight,
Sir Roger of Donkesley.
That was her own special
(Full evil might they thee!)
They took together their counsel
Robin Hood for to slee,
And how they might best do that deed
His banes for to be.
Then bespake good Robin,
In place where as he stood,
"To-morrow, I must to Kirkesley
Craftily to be let blood!"
Sir Roger of Doncaster,
By the Prioress he lay:
And there they betrayed good Robin Hood
Through their false play.
Christ have mercy on his soul!
(That died on the rood)
For he was a good outlaw,
And did poor men much good.

---

English Carols.

[From a Manuscript at Balliol College, Oxford.]

c. 1540

Mater, ora filium,
ut post hoc exilium
nobis donet gaudium
beatorum omnium!

air maiden, who is this bairn
That thou bearest in thine arm?
Sir it is a Kinges Son,
That in Heaven above doth wone.
Mater, ora, etc.
Man to father he hath none,
But Himself God alone!
Of a maiden He would be born,
To save mankind that was forlorn!
Mater, ora, etc.
The Kings brought him presents,
Gold, myrrh, and frankincense
To my Son full of might,
King of Kings and Lord of right!
Mater, ora, etc.
Fair maiden pray for us
Unto thy Son, sweet Jesus,
That He will send us of His grace
In heaven on high to have a place!
Mater, ora, etc.

Ave Maria, now say we so,
Maid and mother were never no mo!

aude Maria! Christes mother,
Mary mild of thee I mean;
Thou bare my Lord, thou bare my brother,
Thou bare a lovely child and clean!
Thou stoodest full still without blin
When in thy ear that errand was done so,
Tho gracious God thee light within.
Gabrielis nuncio!
Gaude Maria! [preva]lent with grace
When Jesus thy Son on thee was bore,
Full nigh thy breast thou gan Him brace,
He sucked, He sighed, He wept full sore.
Thou fed'st the flower that never shall fade
With maiden's milk, and sung thereto
Lullay, my sweet! I bare thee, babe!
Cum pudoris lilio.
Gaude Maria! thy mirth was away,
When Christ on cross, thy Son, gan die,
Full dolefully on Good Friday,
That many a mother's son it sy.
His blood us brought from care and strife
His watery wound us washed from woe,
The third day from death to life
Fulget resurrectio.
Gaude Maria! thou bird so bright,
Brighter than blossom that bloweth on hill!
Joyfull thou were to see that sight,
When the Apostles, so sweet of will,
All and some did shriek full shrill
When the fairest of shape went you fro,
From earth to heaven he styed full still,
Motu quod fertur proprio.

Gaude Maria! thou rose of Ryse!
Maiden and mother both gentle and free,
Precious princess, peerless of price,
Thy bower is next the Trinity!
Thy Son as law asketh a right,
In body and soul thee took Him to,
Thou reignes with Him right as we find.
In coeli palatio.
Now, blessed bird, we pray thee a boon,
Before thy Son for us thou fall,
And pray Him, as He was on the rood done
And for us drank eisell and gall,
That we may wone within that wall
Wherever is well without woe,
And grant that grace unto us all.
In perenni gaudio.

Of a rose, a lovely rose
And of a rose I sing a song!

earken to me both old and young,
How a rose began to spring,
A fairer rose to my liking
Sprung there never in Kinges land.
Six branches are on that rose beme,
They be both bright and sheen.
The rose is called Mary, heaven queen,
Of her bosom a blossom sprung.
The first branch was of great might,
That sprung on Christmas night!
The star shone over Bethlehem bright,
That men might see both broad and long.

The second branch was of great honour,
It was sent from heaven tower!
Blessed be that fair flower,
Break it shall the fiendes bonds!
The third branch wide spread,
There Mary lay in her bed,
The bright stream three Kings led
To Bethlem there that branch they found.
The fourth branch sprung into hell,
The fiendes boast for to fell,
There might no soul therein dwell,
Blessed be that time that branch gan spring!
The fifth branch was fair in foot,
That sprung to heaven, top and root,
There to dwell and be our bote,
And yet is seen in priestes hands.
The sixth branch by and by,
It is the five joys of mild Mary!
Now Christ save all this company,
And send us good life and long!

Make me merry both more and less,
For now is the time of Christymas!

et no man come into this hall,
Groom, page, nor yet marshall,
But that some sport he bring withal!
For now is the time of Christmas!
If that he say, he can not sing,
Some other sport then let him bring!
That it may please at this feasting!
For now is the time of Christmas!

If he say he can naught do,
Then for my love ask him no mo!
But to the stocks then let him go!
For now is the time of Christmas!

Can I not sing but Hoy!
The jolly shepherd made so much joy!

he shepherd upon a hill he sat,
He had on him his tabard and his hat,
His tarbox, his pipe, and his flagat,
His name was called Jolly, Jolly Wat!
For he was a good herds-boy,
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Can I not sing but hoy.
The shepherd upon a hill was laid,
His dog to his girdle was tayd,
He had not slept but a little braid
But "gloria in excelsis" was to him said
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
The shepherd on a hill he stood,
Round about him his sheep they yode,
He put his hand under his hood,
He saw a star as red as blood.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Can I not sing, etc.
Now farewell Mall, and also Will,
For my love go ye all still,
Unto I come again you till,
And ever more will ring well thy bell.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.

Now must I go there Christ was born,
Farewell! I come again to-morn,
Dog, keep well my sheep fro the corn!
And warn well Warroke when I blow my horn!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
When Wat to Bethlehem come was,
He sweat, he had gone faster than a pace,
He found Jesus in a simple place,
Between an ox and an ass.
Ut hoy!
For in [his] pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
The shepherd said anon right:
I will go see yon farly sight,
Where as the angel singeth on height,
And the star that shineth so bright!
Ut hoy!
For in [his] pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
Jesus, I offer to thee here my pipe,
My skirt, my tarbox and my scrip,
Home to my fellows now will I skip,
And also look unto my sheep!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
Now farewell, mine own herds-man Wat!
Yea, fore God, Lady, even so I hat!
Lull well Jesus in thy lap,
And farewell Joseph, with thy round cap!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.

Now may I well both hope and sing,
For I have been at Christ's bearing,
Home to my fellows now will I fling,
Christ of heaven to His bliss us bring!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.

Now have good day, now have good day!
I am Christmas, and now I go my way!

ere have I dwelt with more and less,
From Hallow-tide till Candlemas!
And now must I from you hence pass,
Now have good day!
I take my leave of King and Knight,
And Earl, Baron, and lady bright!
To wilderness I must me dight!
Now have good day!
And at the good lord of this hall,
I take my leave, and of guestes all!
Methinks I hear Lent doth call,
Now have good day!
And at every worthy officer,
Marshall, panter, and butler,
I take my leave as for this year,
Now have good day!
Another year I trust I shall
Make merry in this hall!
If rest and peace in England may fall!
Now have good day!

But often times I have heard say,
That he is loth to part away,
That often biddeth "have good day!"
Now have good day!
Now fare ye well all in-fere!
Now fare ye well for all this year,
Yet for my sake make ye good cheer!
Now have good day!

Now sing we with angels
Gloria in excelsis!

Babe is born to bliss us bring;
I heard a maid lullay and sing;
She said "dear Son, leave thy weeping,
Thy Father is the King of bliss."
Now sing we, etc.
"Lullay," she said and sang also,
"Mine own dear Son, why art thou woe?
Have I not done as I should do?
Thy grievance tell me what it is."
Now sing we, etc.
"Nay, dear mother, for thee weep I nought,
But for the woe that shall be wrought
To me, or I mankind have bought,
Was never sorrow like it, i-wis."
Now sing we, etc.
"Peace, dear Son, tell me not so!
Thou art my child, I have no mo!
Should I see men mine own Son slo?
Alas, my dear Son, what means this?"
Now sing we, etc.

"My hands, mother, that ye may see,
Shall be nailed unto a tree!
My feet also fast shall be;
Men shall weep that shall see this!"
Now sing we, etc.
"Ah, dear Son, hard is my hap!
See my child that sucked my pap,
His hands, his feet that I did wrap
Be so nailed, that never did amiss!"
Now sing we, etc.
"Ah, dear mother, yet shall a spear
My heart in sunder all to-tear;
No wonder if I carefull were,
And weep full sore to think on this!"
Now sing we, etc.
"Ah, dear Son, shall I see this?
Thou art my child and I thy mother, i-wis!
When Gabriel called me, full of grace,
He told me nothing of this!"
Now sing we, etc.
"Ah, dear mother, through my hair
To thrust in thorns they will not spare!
Alas, mother, I am full of care
That ye shall see this heaviness!"
Now sing we, etc.
"Ah dear Son, leave thy weeping!
Thou bringst my heart in great mourning;
A careful song now may I sing,
This tidings hard to me it is!"
Now sing we, etc.
"Ah, peace, dear mother, I thee pray!
And comfort me all that ye may,
And sing 'by by, lullay lullay,'
To put away all heaviness."
Now sing we, etc.

Caput apri refero
Resonens laudes domino.

he boar's head in hands I bring,
With garlands gay and birds singing!
I pray you all help me to sing,
Qui estis in convivio!
The boar's head I understand,
Is chief service in all this land,
Wheresoever it may be found,
Servitur cum sinapio!
The boar's head I dare well say,
Anon after the twelfth day,
He taketh his leave and goeth away!
Exivit tunc de patria!

I pray you be merry and sing with me,
In worship of Christ's Nativity!

nto this world this day did come
Jesus Christ, both God and man,
Lord and servant in one person,
Born of the blessed Virgin Mary!
I pray, etc.
He that was rich without any need
Appeared in this world in right poor weed,
To make us, that were poor indeed,
Rich without any need truly!
I pray, etc.
A stable was his chamber, a crach was his bed,
He had not a pillow to lay under His head,
With maiden's milk that babe was fed,
In poor clothes was lapped the Lord Almighty!
I pray, etc.

A noble lesson here is us taught,
To set all worldly riches at nought!
But pray we that we may be thither brought
Where riches is everlastingly!
I pray, etc.
Explicit.

Noël, noël, noël, noël!
This is the salutation of Gabriel!

idings true
There be come new,
Sent from the Trinity,
By Gabriel from Nazareth
A city of Galilee!
A clean maiden,
A pure virgin,
By her humility
Hath born the Person
Second in divinity!
Noël!
When that He presented was
Before her fair visage,
In most demure and goodly wise
He did to her homage!
"I am sent, Lady,
From heaven so high,
That Lord's heritage,
For He of thee
Now born will be,
I am sent on the message!"
Noël!
"Hail, Virgin celestial!
The meekest that ever was
Hail, temple of the Deity
Hail, Virgin pure!
I thee ensure,
Within a little space
Thou shalt conceive,
And Him receive
That shall bring great solace."
Noël!
Then bespake the Virgin again,
And answered womanly,
"Whatsoever my Lord commandeth me
I will obey truly!
Ecce, sum humillima
Ancilla domini,
Secundum verbum tuum
fiat mihi!
Noël!

Man, move thy mind and joy this feast,
Veritas de terra orta est!

s I came by the way
I saw a sight seemly to see,
Three shepherds ranging in a kay,
Upon the field keeping their fee.
A star, they said, they did espy,
Casting the beams out of the east,
And angels making melody
Veritas de terra orta est!
Upon that sight they were aghast,
Saying these words, as I say thee:
"To Bethlehem shortly let us haste,
And there we shall the truthe see!"
The angel said unto them all three,
To their comfort or ever be ceased,
"Consolamini and merry be,
Veritas de terra orta est!"

From heaven, out of the highest see,
Righteousness hath taken the way,
With mercy meddled plenteously,
And so conceived in a may,
Miranda res this is in fay!
So saith the prophet in his gest;
Now is He born, scripture doth say:
Veritas de terra orta est!
Then passed the shepherds from that place,
And followed by the starres beam,
That was so bright afore their face,
It brought them straight unto Bethlem.
So bright it shone, on all the realm
Till they came there they would not rest,
To Jewry and Jerusalem!
Veritas de terra orta est!

All this time this song is best:
Verbum caro factum est!

his night there is a child born
That sprang out of Jesse's thorn;
We must sing and say thereforn
Verbum caro factum est!
Jesus is the child's name,
And Mary mild is his dame;
All our sorrow shall turn to game,
Verbum caro factum est!
It fell upon high midnight,
The stars shone both fair and bright,
The angels sang with all their might
Verbum caro factum est!
Now kneel we down on our knee,
And pray we to the Trinity,
Our help, our succour for to be!
Verbum caro factum est!

Now sing we, sing we,
Gloria tibi domine!

hrist keep us all, as he well can,
A solis ortus cardine!
For He is both God and man,
Qui natus est de virgine!
Sing we, etc.
As He is Lord both day and night,
Venter puellae baiulat,
So is Mary mother of might,
Secreta quae non noverat.
Sing we, etc.
The holy breast of chastity,
verbo concepit filium,
So brought before the Trinity,
Ut castitatis lilium!
Sing we, etc.
Between an ox and an ass
enixa est puerpera;
In poor clothing clothed He was
[Qui] regnat super aethera!
Sing we, etc.
Explicit.

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[Text of Image]

W. Tindale. 1530.