O lang, lang, may the ladies stand
Wi' thair gold kems in their hair,
Waiting for thair ain deir lords,

For they'll se thame na mair.

Have owre, have owre to Aberdour,1
It's fiftie fadom deip:

And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence,
Wi' the Scots lords at his feit.2

VIII. ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE

We have here a ballad of Robin Hood (from the Editor's folio manuscript) which was never before printed, and carries marks of much greater antiquity than any of the common popular songs on this subject.

The severity of those tyrannical forest-laws, that were introduced by our Norman kings, and the great temptation of breaking them by such as lived near the royal forests, at a time when the yeomanry of this kingdom were every where trained up to the long-bow, and excelled all other nations in the art of shooting, must constantly have occasioned great numbers of outlaws, and especially of such as were the best marksmen. These naturally fled to the woods for shelter; and, forming into troops, endeavoured by their numbers to protect themselves from the dreadful penalties of their delinquency. The ancient punishment for killing the king's deer was loss of eyes and castration, a punishment far worse than death. This will easily account for the troops of banditti which lurked in the royal forests, and, from their superior skill in archery and knowledge of all the recesses of those unfrequented solitudes, found it no difficult matter to resist or elude the civil power.

Among all those, none was ever more famous than the hero of this ballad, whose chief residence was in Shirewood forest, in Nottinghamshire; and the heads of whose story, as collected by Stow, are briefly these:

"In this time [about the year 1190, in the reign of Richard I.] were many robbers, and outlawes, among the which Robin Hood, and Little John, renowned theeves, continued in woods, despoyling and robbing the goods of the rich. They killed none but such as would invade them, or by resistance for their own defence.

"The saide Robert entertained an hundred tall men and good archers with suche spoiles and thefts as he got, upon whom four hundred (were they ever so strong) durst not give the onset. He suffered no woman to be oppressed, violated, or otherwise molested: poore mens goods he spared, abundantlie relieving them with that which by theft he got from

1 A village lying upon the river Forth, the entrance to which is sometimes denominated "De mortuo mari."

2 An ingenious friend thinks the author of "Hardyknute" has borrowed several expressions and sentiments from the foregoing, and other old Scottish songs in this collection.

abbeys and the houses of rich old carles: whom Maior (the historian) blameth for his rapine and theft, but of all the theeves he affirmeth him to be the prince, and the most gentle theefe." Annals, p. 159.

The personal courage of this celebrated outlaw, his skill in archery, his humanity, and especially his levelling principle of taking from the rich and giving to the poor, have in all ages rendered him the favourite of the common people, who, not content to celebrate his memory by innumerable songs and stories, have erected him into the dignity of an earl. Indeed, it is not impossible, but our hero, to gain the more respect from his followers, or they to derive the more credit to their profession, may have given rise to such a report themselves: for we find it recorded in an epitaph, which, if genuine, must have been inscribed on his tombstone near the nunnery of Kirklees in Yorkshire; where (as the story goes) he was bled to death by a treacherous nun to whom he applied for phlebotomy:

1 bear undernead dis laitl stean
Laiz robert earl of buntingtun
nea arcir ver az bie sae geud
an pipl kavld im Robin beud
sick utlawz as bi an is men
vil England nivir si agen.

obiit 24 kal. dekembris, 1247.

This epitaph appears to me suspicious: however, a late antiquary has given a pedigree of Robin Hood, which, if genuine, shows that he had real pretensions to the earldom of Huntington, and that his true name was Robert Fitz-ooth. Yet the most ancient poems on Robin Hood make no mention of his earldom. He is expressly asserted to have been a yeoman in a very old legend in verse preserved in the archives of the public library at Cambridge, in eight Fyttes or Parts, printed in black letter, quarto, thus inscribed: "C Here begynneth a lytell geste of Robyn hode and his meyne, and of the proude sheryfe of Notyngham." The first lines are,

The printer's colophon is, "C Explicit Kinge Edwarde and Robin hode and Lyttel Johan. Enprented at London in Flete-strete at the sygne of the sone by Wynkin de Worde." In Mr. Garrick's collection 5 is a different edition of the same poem, C Imprinted at London upon the thre Crane wharfe by Wyllyam Copland," containing at the end a little dramatic piece on the subject of Robin Hood and the Friar, not found in the former copy, called, "A newe playe for to be played in Maye games very plesaunte and full of pastyme. C (..) D."

I shall conclude these preliminary remarks with observing, that the hero of this ballad was the favourite subject of popular songs so early as

1 See Thoresby's Ducat. Leod. p. 579. Biog. Brit. vi. 3933.
Stukeley, in his “Palæographia Britannica," No. II. 1746.

See also the following ballad, ver. 147:

4 Num. D. 5. 2.

5 Old Plays, 4to. K. vol. x.

the time of King Edward III. In the Visions of Pierce Plowman,
written in that reign, a monk says,

3 can rímes of Roben bod and Randal of Chester,
But of our Lorde and our Lady, 3 lerne notbing at all.
Fol. 26. ed. 1550.

1

See also in Bishop Latimer's Sermons 1 a very curious and characteristical story, which shows what respect was shown to the memory of our archer in the time of that prelate.

The curious reader will find many other particulars relating to this celebrated outlaw, in Sir John Hawkins's Hist. of Music, vol. iii. p. 410, 4to.

For the catastrophe of Little John, who, it seems, was executed for a robbery on Arbor-hill, Dublin (with some curious particulars relating to his skill in archery), see Mr. J. C. Walker's ingenious "Memoir on the Armour and Weapons of the Irish," p. 129, annexed to his "Historical Essay on the Dress of the Ancient and Modern Irish." Dublin, 1788, 4to.

Some liberties were, by the Editor, taken with this ballad; which, in this edition, hath been brought nearer to the folio manuscript.

WHEN Shaws 2 beene sheene, and shradds full fayre,
And leaves both large and longe,

Itt is merrye walking in the fayre forrèst
To heare the small birdes songe.

The woodweele sang, and wold not cease,
Sitting upon the spraye,

Soe lowde, he wakened Robin Hood,
In the greenwood where he lay.

Now by my faye, sayd jollye Robin,.
A sweaven I had this night;
I dreamt me of tow wighty yemen,
That fast with me can fight.

Methought they did mee beate and binde,
And tooke my bow mee froe;
If I be Robin alive in this lande,
Ile be wroken on them towe.

Sweavens are swift, Master, quoth John,
As the wind that blowes ore a hill;
For if itt be never so loude this night,
To-morrow itt may be still.

1 Ser. 6th before K. Ed. Apr. 12. fol. 75. Gilpin's Life of Lat. p. 122.

2 For "shaws" the MS. has "shales: and "shradds should perhaps be "swards:" i. e. the surface of the ground: viz. "when the fields are in their beauty:" or perhaps "shades."

HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY - WIDENER LIDIAN Y

Buske yee, bowne yee, my merry men all,
And John shall goe with mee,
For Ile goe seeke yond wight yeomen,
In greenwood where the bee.

Then the cast on their gownes of grene,
And tooke theyr bowes each one;
And they away to the greene forrèst
A shooting forth are gone;

Until they came to the merry greenwood,
Where they had gladdest bee,

There were the ware of a wight yeoman,
His body leaned to a tree.

A sword and a dagger he wore by his side,
Of manye a man the bane;

And he was clad in his capuli hyde
Topp and tayll and mayne.

Stand you still, master, quoth Litle John,
Under this tree so grene,

And I will go to yond wight yeoman
To know what he doth meane.

Ah! John, by me thou settest noe store,
And that I farley finde:

How offt send I my men beffore
And tarry my selfe behinde?

It is no cunning a knave to ken,

And a man but heare him speake ;
And itt were not for bursting of my bowe,
John, I thy head wold breake.

As often wordes they breeden bale,
So they parted Robin and John;
And John is gone to Barnesdale;
The gates 1 he knoweth eche one.

But when he came to Barnesdale,

Great heavinesse there hee hadd,
For he found tow of his owne fellowes
Were slaine both in a slade.

1 i. e. ways, passes, paths, ridings.

"way."

"Gate" is a common word in the north for

And Scarlette he was flyinge a foote

Fast over stocke and stone,

For the sheriffe with seven score men
Fast after him is gone.

One shoote now I will shoote, quoth John,
With Christ his might and mayne:
Ile make yond fellow that flyes soe fast,
To stopp he shall be fayne.

Then John bent up his long bende-bowe,
And fetteled him to shoote:

The bow was made of a tender boughe,
And fell down to his foote.

Woe worth, woe worth thee, wicked wood,
That ere thou grew on a tree;

For now this day thou art my bale,
My boote when thou shold bee.

His shoote it was but loosely shott,
Yet flewe not the arrowe in vaine,
For itt mett one of the sheriffes men,
Good William a Trent was slaine.

It had bene better of William a Trent
To have bene abed with sorrowe,
Than to be that day in the green wood slade
To meet with Little Johns arrowe.

But as it is said, when men be mett
Fyve can doe more than three,
The sheriffe hath taken little John,
And bound him fast to a tree.

Thou shalt be drawen by dale and downe,
And hanged hye on a hill.

But thou mayst fayle of thy purpose, quoth John,
If itt be Christ his will.

Let us leave talking of Little John,
And thinke of Robin Hood,
How he is gone to the wight yeoman,
Where under the leaves he stood.

Good morrowe, good fellowe, sayd Robin so fayre,
Good morrowe, good fellow, quoth he:

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