"A Gest of Robyn Hode" गीत

Lythe and listin, gentilmen,
That be of frebore blode;
I shall you tel of a gode yeman,
His name was Robyn Hode.

Robyn was a prude outlaw,
[Whyles he walked on grounde;
So curteyse an outlaws] as he was one
Was never non founde.

Robyn stode in Bernesdale,
And lenyd hym to a tre;
And bi hym stode Litell John,
A gode yeman was he.

And alsoo dyd gode Scarlok,
And Much, the miller's son;
There was none ynch of his bodi
But it was worth a grome.

Than bespake Lytell Johnn
All vntoo Robyn Hode:
To dyne haue I noo lust,
Till that I haue som bolde baron,
Or som vnkouth gest.

That may pay for the best,
Or som knyght or [som] squyer,
That dwelleth here bi west.'

A gode maner than had Robyn;
In londe where that he were,
Euery day or he weld dyne
Thre messis wolde he here.

The one in the worship of the Fader,
And another of the Holy Gost,
The thirde of Our dere Lady,
That he loued allther moste.

Robyn loued Oure derë Lady;
For dout of dydly synne,
Wolde he neuer do compani harme
That any woman was in

Where we shall take, where we shall leue,
Where we shall abide behynde;
Where we shall robbe, where we shal reue,
Where we shal bete and bynde.

We shall do well inowe;
But loke ye do no husbonde harme,
That tilleth with his ploughe.

These bisshoppes and these archebishhoppes,
Ye shall them bete and bynde;
The hyë sherif of Notyingham,
Hym holde ye in your mynde.

And this lesson we shall lere;
It is fer dayes; God sende vs a gest,
That we were at oure dynere!

Late Much wende with the;
And so shal Willyam Scarlo[k],
And no man abyde with me.

Be he erle, or ani baron,
Abbot, or ani knyght,
Bringhe hym to lodge to me;
His dyner shall be dight.'

They wente vp to the Saylis
These yeman all thre;
They loked est, they loke[d] weest;
They myght no man see.

But as they loked in to Bernysdale,
Bi a dernë strete,
Than came a knyght ridinghe;
Full sone they gan hym mete.

All dreri was his semblaunce,
And lytell was his pryde;
His one fote in the styrop stode,
That othere wauyd beside.

His hode hanged in his iyn two;
He rode in symple aray;
A soriar man than he was one
Rode neuer in somer day.

Litell Johnn was full curteyes,
And sette hym on his kne:
Welcom be ye, gentyll knyght,
Welcom ar ye to me.

Who is thy maister? ' sayde the knyght
Johnn sayde, Robyn Hode;
He is [a] gode yoman,' sayde the knyght,
Of hym I haue herde moche gode.

My bretherne, all in fere;
My purpos was to haue dyned to day
At Blith or Dancastere.'

Furth than went this gentyl knight,
With a carefull chere;
The teris oute of his iyen ran,
And fell downe by his lere.

They brought hym to the lodgë-dore;
Whan Robyn hym gan see,
Full curtesly dyd of his hode
And sette hym on his knee.

Welcome art thou to me;
I haue abyden you fastinge, sir,
All these ouris thre.'

Than answered the gentyll knight,
With word&eml;s fayre and fre;
God the saue, goode Robyn,
And all thy fayre meyn&eml;.

They wasshed togeder and wyped bothe,
And sette to theyr dynere;
Brede and wyne they had right ynoughe,
And noumbles of the dere.

Swannes and fessauntes they had full gode,
And foules of the ryuere;
There fayled none so litell a birde
That euer was bred on bryre.

If I come ageyne, Robyn,
Here by thys contr&emul;,
As gode a dyner I shall the make
As that thou haest made to me.'

My dyner whan that I it haue,
I was neuer so gredy, bi dere worthy God,
My dyner for to craue.

Me thynketh it is gode ryght;
It was neuer the maner, by dere worthi God,
A yoman to pay for a knyhht.'

That I may profer for shame:'
Ne let nat for no blame.
So God haue parte of the
I haue no more but ten shelynges, sayde the knyght,
So God haue parte of me.'

I woll nat one peny;
And yf thou haue nede of any more,
More shall I lend the.

Fyll of the best wine,' sayde Robyn
Tell me [one] worde,' sayde Robyn,
And counsel shal it be;
I trowe thou warte made a knyght of force,
Or ellys of yemanry.

I am none of those,' sayde the knyght,
By God that madë me;
An hundred wynter here before
Myn auncetres knyghtes haue be.

Withyn this two yere, Robyne,' he sayde,
Nowe haue I no gode,' saide the knyght,
In what maner,' than sayde Robyn,
For My greatë foly,' he sayde,

I hade a sone, forsoth, Robyn,
That shulde hau[e] ben myn ayre,
Whanne he was twenty wynter olde,
In felde wolde iust fall fayre.

My londes beth sette to wedde, Robyn,
Vntyll a certayn day,
To a ryche abbot here besyde
Of Seynt Mari Abbey.'

Trouth than tell thou me;'
Nowe and thou lese thy lond,' sayde Robyn,
Hastely I wol me buske,' sayd the knyght,
Ouer the saltë see,

I ne haue no more to pay.
Syr, neuer one wol me knowe;
While I was ryche ynowe at home
Great boste than wolde they blowe.

Fyl of the best wyne,' sayde Robyn,
Hast thou any frende,' sayde Robin
I haue none, than sayde the knyght,
But God that dyed on tree.'

Thereof wol I right none;
Wenest thou I wolde haue God to borowe,
Peter, Poule, or Johnn?'

Fynde me a better borow ' sayde Robyn,
I haue none other,' sayde the knyght,
By dere worthy God,' sayde Robyn,

Come nowe furth, Litell Johnn,
And go to my tresourë,
And bringe me foure hundered pound,
And loke well tolde it be.'

Furth than went Litell Johnn,
And Scarlok went before;
He tolde oute foure hundred pounde
By eight and twenty score.

For ye haue scarlet and grene, mayster,
And man[y] a riche aray;
Ther is no marchaunt in mery Englond
So ryche, I dare well say.'

What deuyllës drapar,' sayid litell Muche,
Thynkest thou for to be? '

Scarlok stode full stil and loughe,
And sayd,
Mayster,' than said Litell Johnn
To gentill Robyn Hode,

Take hym a gray coursar,' sayde Robyn,
To mayntene hym in his right;'
For he is a gentyll knight.'

Sir, a peyre of gilt sporis clene,
To pray for all this company;
God bringe hym oute of tene.'

Sir, and your wyll be?'
Vnder this grenë-wode tre.
A knight alone to ryde,
Withoutë squyre, yoman, or page,
To walkë by his syde.

I shall the lende Litell John, my man,
For he shalbe thy knaue;
In a yema[n]'s stede he may the stande,
If thou greate nedë haue.'