King Richard, of that name the first, Sirnamed Cœur de Lyon, Went to defeat the Pagans curst, Who kept the coasts of Sion. The bishop of Ely, chancellor, Was left a vice-roy here, Who, like a potent emperor, Did proudly domineer. Our chronicles of him report, That commonly he rode With a thousand horse from court to court, Where he would make abode. {138} He, riding down towards the north, With his aforesaid train, Robin and his men did issue forth, Them all to entertain ; And with the gallant gray-goose wing They shew’d to them such play That made their horses kick and fling, And down their riders lay, Full glad and fain the bishop was, For all his thousand men, So seek what means he could to pass From out of Robins ken. Two hundred of his men were kill’d, And fourscore horses good, Thirty, who did as captives yield, Were carried to the green wood ; Which afterwards were ransomed, For twenty marks a man : The rest set spurs to horse and fled To th’ town of Warrington. The bishop, sore inraged, then Did, in king Richards name, Muster up a power of northern men, These outlaws bold to tame. {139} But Robin with his courtesie So won the meaner sort, That they were loath on him to try What rigour did import. So that bold Robin and his train Did live unhurt of them, Until king Richard came again From fair Jerusalem : And then the talk of Robin Hood His royal ears did fill ; His grace admir’d that i’ th’ green wood He was continued still. So that the country far and near Did give him great applause ; For none of them need stand in fear, But such as broke the laws. He wished well unto the king, And prayed still for his health, And never practis’d any thing Against the common-wealth. Only, because he was undone By th’ cruel clergy then, All means that he could think upon To vex such kind of men, {140} He enterpriz’d with hateful spleen ; For which he was to blame, For fault of some to wreak his teen On all that by him came. With wealth that he by roguery got Eight alms-houses he built, Thinking thereby to purge the blot Of blood which he had spilt. Such was their blind devotion then, Depending on their works ; Which if ’twere true, we Christian men Inferiour were to Turks. But, to speak true of Robin Hood, And wrong him not a jot, He never would shed any mans blood That him invaded not. Nor would he injure husbandmen, That toil at cart and plough ; For well he knew wer’t not for them To live no man knew how. The king in person, with some lords, To Nottingham did ride, To try what strength and skill affords To crush this outlaws pride. {141} And, as he once before had done, He did again proclaim, That whosoever would take upon To bring to Nottingham,