judge, the town gatekeeper; he is ready to slay as many more as like to come; and all this joyously, jovially, like an honest fellow who eats well, has a hard skin, lives in the open air, and revels in animal life. "In somer when the shawes be sheyne, And leves be large and long, Hit is fulle mery in feyre foreste To here the foulys song." That is how many ballads begin; and the fine weather, which makes the stags and oxen butt with their horns, inspires them with the thought of exchanging blows with sword or stick. Robin dreamed that two yeomen were thrashing him, and he wants to go and find them, angrily repelling Little John, who offers to go first: "Ah John, by me thou settest noe store, And that I farley finde: How offt send I my men before, And tarry myselfe behinde? "It is no cunnin a knave to ken, An a man but heare him speake; An it were not for bursting of my bowe, John, I thy head wold breake."[159]... He goes alone, and meets the robust yeoman, Guy of Gisborne, "He that had neyther beene kythe nor kin, Might have seen a full fayre fight, To see how together these yeomen went With blades both browne and bright, "To see how these yeomen together they fought Two howres of a summer's day; Yett neither Robin Hood nor sir Guy Them fettled to flye away."[160] You see Guy the yeoman is as brave as Robin Hood; he came to seek him in the wood, and drew the bow almost as well as he. This old popular poetry is not the praise of a single bandit, but of an entire class, the yeomanry. "God haffe mersy on Robin Hodys solle, and saffe all god yemanry." That is how many ballads end. The brave yeoman, inured to blows, a good archer, clever at sword and stick, is the favorite. There were also, redoubtable, armed townsfolk, accustomed to make use of their arms. Here they are at work: "'O that were a shame,' said jolly Robin, 'We being three, and thou but one,' The pinder[161] leapt back then thirty good foot, 'Twas thirty good foot and one. "He leaned his back fast unto a thorn, And his foot against a stone, And there he fought a long summer's day, A summer's day so long. "Till that their swords on their broad bucklers Were broke fast into their hands."[162] Often even Robin does not get the advantage: "'I pass not for length,' bold Arthur reply'd, 'My staff is of oke so free; Eight foot and a half, it will knock down a calf, And I hope it will knock down thee.' "Then Robin could no longer forbear, He gave him such a knock, Quickly and soon the blood came down Before it was ten a clock. "Then Arthur he soon recovered himself, And gave him such a knock on the crown, That from every side of bold Robin Hood's head The blood came trickling down. "Then Robin raged like a wild boar, As soon as he saw his own blood: Then Bland was in hast, he laid on so fast, As though he had been cleaving of wood.