Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts
The three that remain'd call'd to Robin for quarter,
And pitiful John begg'd their lives; 170
When John's boon was granted, he gave them good counsel,
And sent them all home to their wives.
This battle was fought near to Titbury town,
When the bagpipes baited the bull;[L174]
I'm the king of the fidlers, and I swear 'tis truth, 175
And I call him that doubts it a gull:
For I saw them fighting, and fiddled the while,
And Clorinda sung "Hey derry down!
The bumkins are beaten, put up thy sword, Bob,
And now let's dance into the town." 180
Before we came in, we heard a strange shouting,
And all that were in it look'd madly;
For some were on bull-back, some dancing a morris,
And some singing _Arthur-a-Bradley_.
And there we see Thomas, our justices clerk, 185
And Mary, to whom he was kind;
For Tom rode before her, and call'd Mary madam,
And kiss'd her full sweetly behind:
And so may your worships. But we went to dinner,
With Thomas and Mary, and Nan; 190
They all drank a health to Clorinda and told her
Bold Robin Hood was a fine man.
When dinner was ended, sir Roger, the parson
Of Dubbridge, was sent for in haste:
He brought his mass-book, and he bad them take hands, 195
And joyn'd them in marriage full fast.
And then, as bold Robin Hood and his sweet bride
Went hand in hand to the green bower,
The birds sung with pleasure in merry Sherwood,
And 'twas a most joyful hour. 200
And when Robin came in sight of the bower,
"Where are my yeomen?" said he:
And Little John answer'd, "Lo, yonder they stand,
All under the green wood tree."
Then a garland they brought her by two and by two, 205
And plac'd them all on the bride's head:
The music struck up, and we all fell to dance,
'Till the bride and bridegroom were a-bed.
And what they did there must be counsel to me,
Because they lay long the next day; 210
And I had haste home, but I got a good piece
Of bride-cake, and so came away.
Now out, alas! I had forgotten to tell ye,
That marry'd they were with a ring;
And so will Nan Knight, or be buried a maiden, 215
And now let us pray for the king:
That he may get children, and they may get more,
To govern and do us some good:
And then I'll make ballads in Robin Hood's bower,
And sing 'em in merry Sherwood. 220
14, Clowdel le.
48, has.
104, a.
124, lease.
127, choose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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