’Twas late from the smoke of the chimney I came On board of a guard-ship, the _Royal Billy_ by name, Where the first thing I heard when I came alongside, ‘Here’s a grasshopper coming,’ a hoarse fellow cry’d. The windows were crowded, I thought, by the rood, They’d have laughed till they cry’d at poor Robin Hood. I crawl’d up the side till I came to the top, When a fellow came to me, catch’d hold of my frock. He ask’d me to step to his house down below. Much kindness unto me I thought he did show; But soon to my cost all his kindness was prov’d, And I curst all such friendship for poor Robin Hood, His house on the one side was made of a sack, On the other a blanket near the colour of black. No sooner this place I did enter in Than another sings out, ‘Damme, Jack, dowse the glim!’ They rifled my pockets of all that was good, Then tore off my frock, so left poor Robin Hood. Then to an old fellow I did straightway repair, To ask him the place where the constables were. Up two pair of stairs with him I stept quick, When he shewed me a man with a whistle and stick. I told him my story, but that was no good, For he told me I ly’d, and left poor Robin Hood. I sat down on the deck to bemoan for a while, When a woman came to me, and began for to smile. She ask’d me my name, which soon I did tell, Also the disaster that had me befel. The best of ill language at them she did fling, Then ask’d me below, to accept of some gin. Then with her I consented directly to go, And straightway together we went down below, Where she call’d for a bottle of old English gin. I blest my good stars with such friend to fall in: But, to my vexation, I soon understood There was no one to pay it but poor Robin Hood. My shirt they stript off, the gin for to pay; My hat and my shoes both went the same way. I bawled out, ‘Murder!’ But that was their fun. I up a long ladder was forced to run To the officers then, in a terrible mood, Who all bursted with laughter at poor Robin Hood. They sent for a man who’d the look of a prig, And he took me away for the purser to rig. A huge pair of breeches he gave me, ’tis true, That reach’d from the top of my rump to my shoe. A coat he next gave me, too short by a rood; ’Twould not cover the backside of poor Robin Hood. The next thing I met was a man with a stick, Who bawl’d out, ‘All hands!’ and then gave me a lick. ‘You lubberly rascal! ’Tis what brought you here! Scud quick, or I’ll make you, and hoist up the beer.’ I gave him a look, which he well understood, For he bang’d me till tired, and so left Robin Hood.