The mother of Robin said to her husbànd, My honey, my love, and my dear, Let Robin and I ride this morning to Gamwel, To taste of my brother’s good cheer. And he said, I grant thee thy boon, gentle Joan, Take one of my horses, I pray : The sun is arising, and therefore make haste, For to-morrow is Christmas-day. Then Robin Hood’s father’s grey gelding was brought, And sadled and bridled was he ; God-wot a blue bonnet, his new suit of cloaths, And a cloak that did reach to his knee. She got on her holyday kirtle and gown, They were of a light Lincoln green ; The cloath was homespun, but for colour and make It might ‘have beseemed’[282] our queen. And then Robin got on his basket-hilt sword, And his dagger on his tother side ; And said, My dear mother, let’s haste to be gone, We have forty long miles to ride. {153} When Robin had mounted his gelding so grey, His father, without any trouble, Set her up behind him, and bad her not fear, For his gelding ‘had’ oft carried double. And when she was[283] settled, they rode to their neighbours, And drank and shook hands with them all ; And then Robin gallopt, and never gave o’re, Till they lighted at Gamwel-hall. And now you may think the right worshipful squire Was joyful his sister to see ; For he kist her, and kist her, and swore a great oath, Thou art welcome, kind sister, to me. To-morrow, when mass had been said at the chappel, Six tables were covered in the hall, And in comes the squire, and makes a short speech, It was, Neighbours, you’re welcome all. But not a man here shall taste my March beer, Till a Christmas carrol he does sing. Then all clapt their hands, and theys houted and sung, Till the hall and the parlour did ring. Now mustard and brawn, roast beef and plumb pies Were set upon every table ; And noble George Gamwel said, Eat and be merry, And drink too as long as you’re able. {154} When dinner was ended, his chaplain said grace, And, Be merry, my friends, said the squire ; It rains and it blows, but call for more ale, And lay some more wood on the fire. And now call ye Little John hither to me, For Little John is a fine lad, At gambols and juggling, and twenty such tricks, As shall make you both merry and glad. When Little John came, to gambols they went, Both gentlemen, yeomen, and clown ; And what do you think ? Why, as true as I live, Bold Robin Hood put them all down. And now you may think the right worshipful squire Was joyful this sight for to see ; For he said, Cousin Robin, thou’st go no more home, But tarry and dwell here with me : Thou shalt have my land when I die, and till then, Thou shalt be the staff of my age. Then grant me my boon, dear uncle, said Robin, That Little John may be my page.