In line 1319-"Ever he awaited "-there are two contractions, ever into e'er, and awaited into await. In line 1321, the v in river is slipped over, like the e in ever, over, &c., and "the river" runs into a monosyllable. So again, in line 1343, never was pronounced ne'er.

1 This lady, Aveline, Countess of Lancaster, daughter of the Earl of Albemarle and Holdernesse, died in 1267, and represents the costume of the time to which the poem is assigned by the introduction of King Edward I. among its characters. The wimple, wrapped two or three times round the neck, was called a "gorget," and Jean de Meung, when he satirised this fashion in his part of the "Roman de la Rose" (written between 1270 and 1282), said that he often thought the ladies nailed their neckcloths to their chin, or pinned them to their flesh. 2 Wode, mad.

3 Rode, cross.

And laid on the sheriffis men,

Robin stert to that knight,

And cut atwo his band,
And took him in his hand a bow,
And bade him by him stand.
"Leavé thy horse thee behind,

And learn for to ren ;7

Thou shalt with me to green wood, Through mire, moss, and fen;

S

Thou shalt with me to green wood,
Without aný leasing,
Till that I have get us grace,
Of Edward our comely king."

THE SEVENTH FYTTE.

The king came to Nottingham,
With knights in great array,
For to take that gentle knight,
And Robin Hood, if he may.
He asked men of that countré,
After Robin Hood,

And after that gentle knight,
That was so bold and stout.

4 Iquit, requited.

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5 Br-ight brand. Observe also how often the broadly pronounced

When they had told him the case, Our king understood their tale, And seised in his hand

The knightés landes all, All the pass of Lancashire,

He went both far and near, Till he came to Plompton park, He failed many of his deer. Where our king was wont to see

Herdés many one

He could unneth' find one deer,

That ye shall meet with good Robin,

Alive if that he be,

Ere ye come to Nottingham,

With eyen ye shall him see."

Full hastily our king was dight,
So were his knightés five,
Each of them in monkés weed,

And hasted them thither blithe.
Our king was great above his cowl,
A broad hat on his crown,
Right as he were abbot-like,
They rode up in-to the town.
Stiff boots our king had on,

Forsooth as I you say,

He rode singing to green wood,

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Followed our king behind,

Till they came to greené wood, A mile under the lind: 7

Then bespake a fair old knight,
That was true in his fay,2
"Ah, my liegé lord the king,
One word I shall you say:
There is no man in this country
May have the knightés lands,

While Robin Hood may ride or gon,
And bear a bow in his hands,

That he ne shall lose his head,

That is the best ball in his hood: Give it no man, my lord the king, That ye will any good!"

Half a year dwelled our comely king,
In Nottingham, and well more,

Could he not hear of Robin Hood,
In what country that he were;

But alway went good Robin

By halk and eke by hill,

Unneth, not easily. First English "eathe," easily.

2 Fay (French "foi"), faith.

3 Country, division of the land (French "contrée," from Latin con" and "terra"). Countries are lands lying together or adjacent. Our counties were once commonly called countries, and are still called so in some provincial dialects.

♦ Halk, enclosure (?). Jamieson, in his "Scottish Dictionary," a book often very useful to the student of Old English, suggests that halk-hens may have been hens cooped in, from Old Swedish "haekle." Halkard, as a name for a low fellow, may thus have meant one of the herd.

5 Welt them (First English "wæltan," . roll or tumble), tumbled

them over.

Robin took the forty pound,

And departed it in two partye, Halfendell he gave his merry men,

And bade them merrý to be.

Full hastily was their dinner idight,

And therto gan they gon,

They served our king with all their might,

Both Robin and Little John.

Anon before our king was set

The fatté venison,

The good white bread, the good red wine,

And therto the fine ale brown.

"Maké good cheer," said Robin,

"Abbót, for charity;

And for this ilké tidingé,

Blesséd mote thou be.

Now shalt thou see what life we lead,

Or thou hennés wend,

Then thou may inform our king,

When ye together lend."

Up they stert all in haste,
Their bows were smartly bent,
Our king was never so sore agast,
He weened to have be shent.7
Two yardés there were up set,
Thereto gan they gang;
But fifty pace, our king said,
The markés were too long.
On every side a rose garland,
They shot under the line.

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"Whoso faileth of the rose garland," said Robin,

He took out the broad tarpe,1

And soon he let him see;

Robin coud his courtesy,

And set him on his knee:

"I love no man in all the world So well as I do my king,

Welcome is my lordés seal;

And, monk, for thy tiding,

Sir abbot, for thy tidingés,

For the love of my king,

Under my trystell tree."

Forth he led our comely king,

Full fair by the hand,

Many a deer there was slain,

With the lily white hand;

Little John and good Scathélock,
For nothing would they spare,
When they failed of the garland,
Robin smote them fall sair.
At the last shot that Robin shot,
For all his friends fair,
Yet he failed of the garland,

Thy name is nought to lere,

I sholde not get a shote of the,

Though I shote all this yere."

All the people of Notyngham

They stode and behelde,

They sawe nothynge but mantels of grene

They covered all the felde;

Than every man to other gan say,

I drede our kynge be slone;

Come Robyn Hode to the towne, i-wys,

On lyve he leveth not one.

Full hastly they began to fle,

Both yemen and knaves,

And olde wyves that myght evyll goo,

They hypped on theyr staves.

The kynge loughe full fast,

And commanded theym agayne; When they se our comly kynge,

I-wys they were full fayne.

They ete and dranke, and made them glad,

And sange with notes hye.

Than bespake our comly kynge

To syr Rycharde at the Lee:

He gave hym there his londe agayne,

A good man he bad hym be.

Robyn thanked our comly kynge,

And set hym on his kne.

Had Robyn dwelled in the kynges courte

But twelve monethes and thre,

That he had spent an hondred pounde,
And all his mennes fe.

In every place where Robyn came,

Ever more he layde downe,

Both for knyghtes and squyres,
To gete hym grete renowne.
By than the yere was all agone,
He had no man but twayne
Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke,
Wyth hym all for to gone.

8 To lere, to learn.