258. His son he did not nee. PERCY. ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE. This ballad was derived from the Percy Manuscript, and is printed in the _Reliques_, i. 84 (ed. 1794), with some alterations by the Editor. "As for Guy of Gisborne," says Ritson, "the only further memorial which has occurred concerning him is in an old satirical piece by William Dunbar, a celebrated Scottish poet of the fifteenth century, on one "Schir Thomas Nory," (MS. Maitland, p. 3, MMS. More, Ll. 5, 10,) where he is named along with our hero, Adam Bell, and other worthies, it is conjectured of a similar stamp, but whose merits have not, less fortunately, come to the knowledge of posterity. "Was nevir WEILD ROBEINE under bewch, Nor yitt Roger of Clekkislewch, So bauld a bairne as he; GY OF GYSBURNE, na Allane Bell, Na Simones sones of Quhynsell, Off thocht war nevir so slie." "Gisborne is a market town in the west riding of the county of York, on the borders of Lancashire." When shaws beene sheene, and shradds full fayre,[L1] And leaves both large and longe, Itt is merrye walkyng in the fayre forrèst, To heare the small birdes songe. The woodweele sang, and wold not cease, 5 Sitting upon the spraye, Soe lowde, he wakened Robìn Hood, In the greenwood where he lay. "Now, by my faye," sayd jollye Robìn, "A sweaven I had this night; 10 I dreamt me of tow wight yemèn,[L11] That fast with me can fight. "Methought they did mee beate and binde, And tooke my bowe mee froe; Iff I be Robin alive in this lande, 15 Ile be wroken on them towe." "Sweavens are swift, master," quoth John, "As the wind that blowes ore a hill; For iff itt be never so loude this night, To-morrow itt may be still." 20 "Buske yee, bowne yee, my merry men all, And John shall goe with mee, For Ile goe seeke yond wight yeomèn, In greenwood where they bee."[L24] Then they cast on their gownes of grene, 25 And tooke theyr bowes each one; And they away to the greene forrèst[L27] A shooting forth are gone; Until they came to the merry greenwood, Where they had gladdest bee; 30 There were they ware of a wight yeomàn,[L31] His body leaned to a tree. A sword and a dagger he wore by his side, Of manye a man the bane; And he was clad in his capull hyde, 35 Topp and tayll and mayne. "Stand you still, master," quoth Litle John, "Under this tree so grene, And I will go to yond wight yeomàn, To know what he doth meane." 40 "Ah! John, by me thou settest noe store, And that I farley finde: How offt send I my men beffore, And tarry my selfe behinde?