Robin Hood Rescuing Three Squires
No: 140; variant: 140A
- . . . . . . . .
In faith thou shal[t] haue mine,
And twenty pound in thy purse,
To spend att ale and wine.’
- ‘Though your clothes are of light Lincolne green,
And mine gray russett and torne,
Yet it doth not you beseeme
To doe an old man scorne.’
- ‘I scorne thee not, old man,’ says Robin,
‘By the faith of my body;
Doe of thy clothes, thou shalt haue mine,
For it may noe better bee.’
- But Robin did on this old mans hose,
The were torne in the wrist;
‘When I looke on my leggs,’ said Robin,
‘Then for to laugh I list.’
- But Robin did on the old mans shooes,
And the were cliitt full cleane;
‘Now, by my faith,’ sayes Litle Iohn,
‘These are good for thornes keene.’
- But Robin did on the old mans cloake,
And it was torne in the necke;
‘Now, by my faith,’ said William Scarlett,
‘Heere shold be set a specke.’
- But Robin did on this old mans hood,
Itt gogled on his crowne;
‘When I come into Nottingham,’ said Robin,
‘My hood it will lightly downe.
- ‘But yonder is an outwood,’ said Robin,
‘An outwood all and a shade,
And thither I reede you, my merrymen all,
The ready way to take.
- ‘And when you heare my litle horne blow,
Come raking all on a rowte
. . . .
. . . .
- But Robin he lope, and Robin he threw,
He lope over stocke and stone;
But those that saw Robin Hood run
Said he was a liuer old man.
- [Then Robin set his] horne to his mowth,
A loud blast cold h[e] blow;
Ffull three hundred bold yeomen
Came rakinge all on a row.
- But Robin cast downe his baggs of bread,
Soe did he his staffe with a face,
And in a doublet of red veluett
This yeoman stood in his place.
- ‘But bend your bowes, and stroke your strings,
Set the gallow-tree aboute,
And Christs cursse on his heart,’ said Robin,
‘That spares the sheriffe and the sergiant!’
- When the sheriffe see gentle Robin wold shoote,
He held vp both his hands;
Sayes, Aske, good Robin, and thou shalt haue,
Whether it be house or land.
- ‘I will neither haue house nor land,’ said Robin,
‘Nor gold, nor none of thy ffee,
But I will haue those three squires
To the greene fforest with me.
- ‘Now marry, Gods forbott,’ said the sheriffe,
‘That euer that shold bee;
For why, they be the kings ffelons,
They are all condemned to dye.’
- ‘But grant me my askinge,’ said Robin,
‘Or by the faith of my body
Thou shalt be the first man
Shall flower this gallow-tree.’
- ‘But I wi[ll haue t]hose three squires
. . . .