Part 18 (1/2)

Every Sunday throughout the year, Chang'd shall thy garments be, If thou wilt to fair Nottingham go, And there remain with me.

The curtal friar had kept Fountain Dale, Seven long years and more; There was neither knight, lord, nor earl, Could make him yield before.

FOOTNOTES:

[129] Fat hart.

[130] Whistle.

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLEN-A-DALE.

Come listen to me, you gallants so free, All you that love mirth for to hear, And I will tell you of a bold outlaw, That liv'd in Nottinghams.h.i.+re.

As Robin Hood in the forest stood, All under the greenwood tree, There was he aware of a brave young man, As fine as fine might be.

The youngster was clothed in scarlet red, In scarlet fine and gay; And he did frisk it o'er the plain, And chaunted a roundelay.

As Robin Hood next morning stood Amongst the leaves so gay, There did he 'spy the same young man Come drooping along the way.

The scarlet he wore the day before, It was cast clean away; And ev'ry step he fetch'd a sigh, Alack and well a day!

Then stepped forth brave Little John, And Midge the miller's son, Which made the young man bend his bow, When he did see them come.

Stand off, stand off, the young man said, What is your will with me?

You must come before our master straight, Under yonder greenwood tree.

And when he came bold Robin before, Robin asked him courteously, O hast thou any money to spare For my merry men and me?

I have no money, the young man said, But five s.h.i.+llings and a ring, And that I have kept these seven long years, To have it at my wedding.

Yesterday I should have married a maid, But from me she was ta'en, And chosen to be an old knight's delight, Whereby my poor heart is slain.

What is thy name then, said Robin Hood, Come, tell me without fail?

By the faith of my body, then said the young man, My name is Allen-a-Dale.

What wilt thou give me, said Robin Hood, In ready gold or fee, To help thee to thy true love again, And deliver her unto thee?

I have no money, then quoth the young man, No ready gold or fee, But I will swear upon a book, Thy true servant for to be.

How many miles is it to thy true love?

Come, tell me without any guile.

By the faith of my body, then said the young man, It is but five little mile.

Then Robin he hasted over the plain, And he did neither stint nor lin,[131]