Lithe and listen, gentlemen,
That be of freeborn blood;
I shall you tell of a good yeom-an,
His name was Robin Hood.
Robin was a proud outlaw,
Whil-es he walked on ground,
So curteyse an outlawe as he was one
Was never none yfound.
Robin stood in Barnysdale,
And leaned him to a tree,
And by h-im stood Little John,
A good yeom-an was he;
And also did good Scath-elock,
And Much the miller's son;
There was no inch of his bod-y,
But it was worth a groom.

Then bespake him Little John
All unto Robin Hood,
"Master, if ye would dine betime,
It would do you much good."

Then bespak-e good Rob-in,
"To dine I have no lust,
Till I have some bold bar-on,
Or some unketh gest,
That may pay for the best;
Or some knight or some squy-ere
That dwelleth here by west."

A good mann-er then had Robin
In land where that he were,
Every day ere he would dine
Three masses would he hear:
The one in the worship of the Father,
The other of the Holy Ghost,
The third was of our dear Lady,
That he loved of all other most.

Robin loved our dear Lad-y,
For dout of deadly sin;
Would he never do company harm
That any woman was in.

"Master," then said Little John,
"An we our board shall spread,
Tell us whither we shall gon,
And what life we shall lead;
Where we shall take, where we shall leave,
Where we shall bide behind,
Where we shall rob, where we shall reve,
Where we shall beat and bind."

"Thereof no force," then said Rob-in,
"We shall do well enow;
But look ye do no housbonde harm
That tilleth with his plow;
No more ye shall no good yeoman,
That walk'th by green wood shaw,
Ne no knight, ne no squy-er,
That would be a good fel-aw.
These bishops, and these archbishops,
Ye shall them beat and bind;
The high sheriff of Nottingham,
Him hold in your mind."

"This word shall be holde," said Little John,
"And this lesson shall we lere;
It is ferr-e days, God send us a geste,
That we were at our dinere!"

"Take thy good bow in thy hand," said Robin,
"Let Much wend-e with thee,
And so shall William Scath-elock,
And no man abide with me:
And walk up to the Sa-yl-es,
And so to Watling Street,
And wait after some unketh gest,
Up-chance ye mowe them meet.
Be he earl or any bar-on,
Abb-ot or any knight,
Bring him to lodge to me,
His dinner shall be dight."

They went unto the Sa-yl-es,
These yeomen all three,
They look-ed east, they look-ed west,
They might-e no man see.
But as they looked in Barnisdale,
By a dern-e street,
Then came th-ere a knight rid-ing,
Full soon they gan him meet.
All drear-y was his semblaunce,
And little was his pride,
His one foot in the stirrup stood,
That other waved beside.
His hood hanging over his eyen two,
He rode in simple array;
A sorrier man than he was one
Rode never in summer's day.

Little John was full curt-eyse,
And set him on his knee:
"Welcome be ye, gentle knight,
Welc-ome are ye to me,
Welcome be thou to green wood,
Hende knight and free;
My master hath abiden you fast-ing,
Sir, all these hour-es three."

"Who is your master?" said the knight.

John said, "Robin Hood."

"He is a good yeoman," said the knight,
"Of him I have heard much good.
I grant," he said, "with you to wend,
My brethren all in-fere;
My purpose was to have dined to-day
At Blyth or Doncastere."

Forth then went this gentle knight,
With a careful cheer,
The tears out of his eyen ran,
And fell down by his lere.
They brought him unto the lodge door,
When Robin gan him see,
Full curteysly he did off his hood,
And set him on his knee.

"Welc-ome, sir knight," then said Rob-in,
"Welc-ome thou art to me;
I have abiden you fasting, sir,
All these hour-es three."

Then answered the gentle knight,
With word-es fair and free,
"God thee sav-e, good Rob-in,
And all thy fair meyn-e."

They washed together and wip-ed both,
And set to their dinere;
Bread and wine they had enough,
And numbles of the deer;
Swans and pheasants they had full good,
And fowls of the rivere;
There fail-ed never so little a bird,
That ever was bred on brere.

"Do gladly, sir knight," said Rob-in.

"Gram-ercy, sir," said he,
"Such a dinner had I not
Of all these week-es three;
If I come again, Rob-in,
Here b-y this countr-e,
As good a dinner I shall thee make,
As thou hast made to me."

"Gramerc-y, knight," said Rob-in,
"My dinner when I have;
I was never so greedy, by dere-worthy God,
My dinner for to crave.
But pay ere ye wend," said Rob-in,
"Me thinketh it is good right;
It was never the manner, by dere-worthy God,
A yeoman to pay for a knight."

"I have nought in my coffers," said the knight,
"That I may proffer for shame."

"Little John, go look," said Robin,
"Ne let not for no blame.
Tell me truth," then said Rob-in,
"So God have part of thee."

"I have no more but ten shillings," said the knight,
"So God have part of me!"

"If thou have no more," said Rob-in,
"I will not one penn-y;
And if thou have need of any more,
More shall I lend thee.
Go now forth, Little John,
The truth tell thou me,
If there be no more but ten shillings
No penny of that I see."

Little John spread down his mantle
Full fair upon the ground,
And there he found in the knight's coff-er
But even half a pound.
Little John let it lie full still,
And went to his master full low.

"What tiding-e, John?" said Rob-in.

"Sir, the knight is true enow."

"Fill of the best wine," said Rob-in,
"The knight shall begin;
Much wonder thinketh me
Thy clothing is so thin.
Tell me one word," said Rob-in,
"And counsel shall it be;
I trow thou were made a knight of force,
Or else of yeomanry;
Or else thou hast been a sorry housband
And lived in stroke and strife;
An okerer, or lechour," said Rob-in,
"With wrong hast thou led thy life."

"I am none of them," said the knight,
"By him that mad-e me;
An hundred winter here before,
Mine aunsetters knights have be.
But oft it hath befal, Rob-in,
A man hath be disgrate;
But God that sitteth in heaven above
May amend his state.
Within two or three year, Robin," he said,
"My neighbours well it kend,
Four hundred pound of good mon-ey
Full well then might I spend.
Now have I no good," said the knight,
"But my children and my wife;
God hath shapen such an end,
Till he it may amend."

"In what manner," said Rob-in,
"Hast thou lore thy rich-esse?"

"For my great folly," he said,
"And for my kind-enesse.
I had a son, for sooth, Rob-in,
That should have been my heir,
When he was twenty winter old,
In field would joust full fair;
He slew a knight of Lancashire,
And a squyer bold;
For to save him in his right
My goods beth set and sold;
My lands beth set to wed, Rob-in,
Until a certain day,
To a rich abbot here beside,
Of Saint Mar-y abbay."

"What is the summ-e?" said Rob-in,
"Truth then tell thou me."

"Sir," he said, "four hundred pound,
The abb-ot told it to me."

"Now, an thou lose thy land," said Robin,
"What shall fall of thee?"

"Hastily I will me busk," said the knight,
"Over the salt-e sea,
And see where Christ was quick and dead,
On the mount of Calvar-y.
Fare well, friend, and have good day,
It may no better be"—

Tears fell out of his eyen two,
He would have gone his way—
"Fare well, friends, and have good day,
I ne have more to pay."

"Where be thy friends?" said Rob-in.

"Sir, never one will me know;
While I was rich enow at home
Great boast then would they blow,
And now they run away from me,
As beast-es on a row;
They take no more heed of me
Than they me never saw."

For ruth-e then wept Little John,
Scathelocke and Much also.
"Fill of the best wine," said Rob-in,
"For here is a simple cheer.
Hast thou any friends," said Robin,
"Thy borowes that will be?"

"I have none," then sa