Hearken, hearken, said the sheriff,
I hear now tidings good,
For yonder I hear sir Guy's horn blow,
And he hath slain Robin Hood.
Yonder I hear sir Guy's horn blow,
It blows so well in tide,
And yonder comes that wighty yeoman,
Clad in his capull hide.
Come hither, come hither, thou good sir Guy,
Ask what thou wilt of me.
O I will none of thy gold, said Robin,
Nor I will none of thy fee.
But now I have slain the master, he says,
Let me go strike the knave;
For this is all the reward I ask;
Nor no other will I have.
Thou art a madman, said the sheriff,
Thou shouldst have had a knight's fee:
But seeing thy asking hath been so bad,
Well granted it shall be.
When Little John heard his master speak,
Well knew he it was his steven:[24]
Now shall I be loosed, quoth Little John,
With Christe his might in heaven.
Fast Robin he hied him to Little John,
He thought to loose him belive;[25]
The sheriff and all his company
Fast after him did drive.
Stand back, stand back, said Robin;
Why draw you me so near?
It was never the use in our country,
One's shrift another should hear.
But Robin pull'd forth an Irish knife,
And loosed John hand and foot,
And gave him sir Guy's bow into his hand,
And bade it be his boote.
Then John he took Guy's bow in his hand,
His bolts and arrows each one:
When the sheriff saw Little John bend his bow,
He fettled him to be gone.