"What stirs the sodden headed knave
To make his pastime here?"
Cried Peverel, "and thus dare to brave
Him whom the king doth fear?
Ride down the villains, horse and man;
Would we were armed to-day,
No Saxon chine should bear its head
Forth from the bloody fray."
Up spoke his frere, Payne Peverel, then,
Of Whittington lord was he,
And said, "Fair Sir, for ruth and grace
This slaughter may not be.
The Saxon's lands are widely spread,
And he holds them in capité,
And claims three days with hawk and hound
To wind his bugle free."
"Beshrew his horn, and beshrew his heart,
In my forest he may not ride:
If he kills a deer, by the Conqueror's bow
By forest law he shall bide.
Ride on, Sir Payne, and tell the churl
He must cease his hunting cheer,
And come to the knee of his suzerain lord
Awaiting his presence here.
Ride with him, sirs, some two or three,
And bring him hither straight:
'Twere best for him to come at once
Than cause his lord to wait.
There are trees in the forest strong enow
To bear the madman's corse,
And he shall hang on the highest bough
If hither he comes perforce."
Sir Payne rode swiftly cross the dale,
Followed by gentles three,
Nor stayed his horse 'till he had reached
The hunter's company:
And then he said, "Fair sirs, ye ride
And drive our deer as free
As if the land were all your own
And not in forestry.
Lord Peverel yonder waits your ease,
To know how this may be;
Since he is lord of the forest wide,
And will no trespass see.
He bids you, as your suzerain lord,
Forthwith to come to his knee,
And as his liegeman humbly stand,
And answer him truthfully."
"No man of his," cried the Franklin, "then
Am I, as he knows full well,
Though within the bounds of his forest walk
It likes me sooth to dwell.
My manor of Bowdon, I hold in chief
From good King Harry I trow;
And to him alone will I homage pay
And make my fealty vow."
"Beware, Sir Franklin," cried Sir Payne,
"Beware how thou play the fool!
To brave the ire of thy suzerain lord
Will lead to direful dule.
Come on with me, and make thy peace,
Better do that than worse;
He'll hang thee on the forest tree
If we take thee hence perforce."
"Take me you can't while I have thews,
And these have bows and spears,"
Cried the brave Franklin. "Threaten him
Who the Lord Peverel fears.
We've broke no forest law to-day;
Our hunting here's my right;
And only ye can force me hence
If strongest in the fight."
Each hunter then upraised his spear,
Or twanged his good yew bow,
While cloth yard shafts from every sheaf
Glinted a threatening shew.
And back Payne Peverel reined his horse,
And, as he rode away,
Cried, "Fare ye well, this day of sport
Will breed a bloody day."