Part 9 (1/2)
The Abbot sat still, and eat no more, For all his royal fare: He cast his head on his shoulder, And fast began to stare.
”Take me my gold again!” said the Abbot, ”Sir Justice, that I took thee!”
”Not a penny!” said the Justice, ”By G.o.d that died on the tree!”
”Sir Abbot, and ye Men of Law!
Now have I held my day!
Now shall I have my land again For ought that you can say!”
The Knight started out of the door, Away was all his care!
And on he put his good clothing, The other he left there.
He went him forth full merry singing As men have told in tale, His Lady met him at the gate At home in Verysdale.
”Welcome, my Lord!” said his Lady, ”Sir, lost is all your good?”
”Be merry, Dame!” said the Knight, ”And pray for ROBIN HOOD!
That ever his soul be in bliss; He helped me out of my teen.
Ne had not been his kindness, Beggars had we been!
The Abbot and I accorded be; He is served of his pay!
The good yeoman lent it me, As I came by the way.”
This Knight then dwelled fair at home, The sooth for to say, Till he had got four hundred pounds All ready for to pay.
He purveyed him an hundred bows, The strings well dight; An hundred sheafs of arrows good, The heads burnished full bright: And every arrow an ell long With peac.o.c.k well ydight; Ynocked all with white silver, It was a seemly sight.
He purveyed him an hundred men, Well harnessed in that stead, And himself in that same set And clothed in white and red.
He bare a lancegay in his hand, And a man led his mail, And riden with a light song Unto Bernysdale.
But at Wentbridge there was a wrestling, And there tarried was he: And there was all the best yeomen Of all the West country.
A full fair game there was up set; A white bull up i-pight; A great courser, with saddle and bridle With gold burnished full bright; A pair of gloves, a red gold ring, A pipe of wine, in fay: What man beareth him best, Iwis The prize shall bear away.
There was a yeoman in that place, And best worthy was he.
And for he was far and fremd bestead Yslain he should have be.
The Knight had ruth of his yeoman In place where that he stood: He said, ”The yeoman should have no harm, For love of ROBIN HOOD!”
The Knight pressed into the place, An hundred followed him free, With bows bent and arrows sharp For to shend that company.
They shouldered all and made him room To wit what he would say; He took the yeoman by the hand And gave him all the play; He gave him five marks for his wine, There it laid on the mould: And bade it should be set abroach, Drink who so would!
Thus long tarried this gentle Knight Till that play was done: So long abode ROBIN fasting, Three hours after the noon.
+The third fytte.+
Lithe and listen, Gentlemen!
All that now be here, Of Little JOHN, that was the Knight's man, Good mirth ye shall hear.
It was upon a merry day That young men would go shoot, Little JOHN fetched his bow anon And said he ”would them meet.”
Three times, Little JOHN shot about, And always he sleste [_slit_] the wand: The proud Sheriff of NOTTINGHAM By the Marks 'gan stand.
The Sheriff swore a full great oath, ”By Him that died on the tree!
This man is the best archer That yet saw I me!
Say me now, wight young man!
What is now thy name?
In what country wert thou born?
And where is thy woning wane?”
”In Holderness, I was born, I-wis, all of my dame: Men call me REYNOLD GREENLEAF, When I am at home.”
”Say me, REYNOLD GREENLEAF!
Wilt thou dwell with me?
And every year, I will thee give Twenty marks to thy fee!”
”I have a Master,” said Little JOHN, ”A courteous Knight is he; May ye get leave of him, the better may it be.”
The Sheriff got Little JOHN Twelve months of the Knight; Therefore he gave him right anon A good horse and a wight.
Now is Little JOHN a Sheriff's man, G.o.d give us well to speed!
But always thought Little JOHN To quite him well his meed.
”Now, so G.o.d me help!” said Little JOHN, ”And be my true lewte!
I shall be the worst servant to him That ever yet had he!”