[318] Robin Hood. [319] He had. [320] Robin Hood. [321] That could not. [322] Is. [323] Down a. [324] Oh save, oh save, oh sheriff he said, Oh save and you may see. [325] Me. [326] Wandring. [327] Till I blood letted be. [328] You blood shall letted be. [329] Get down. [330] Burnt. This stanza is omitted in one edition. [331] With verdant sods most neatly put, Sweet as the green wood tree. [332] This line is manifestly impertinent and corrupt. We might read: With a stone upon the sod. {341} [Illustration] APPENDIX. I. THE PLAYE OF ROBYN HODE is printed by Copland at the end of his edition of the “Mery Geste,” &c., inserted in the present volume. It seems to be composed, certainly with little improvement, partly from the ballad of “Robin Hood and the Curtall Frier” (see before, p. 209), or rather, perhaps, some still older piece on the same subject, and partly from the ancient poem of “Robin Hood and the Potter” (see p. 81). The whole title runs—“Here beginnethe the playe of Robyn Hoode, very proper to be played in Maye games.” It has here received a few corrections from White’s edition, 1634. ROBYN HODE. Now stand ye forth, my mery men all, And harke what I shall say ; Of an adventure I shal you tell, The which befell this other day. {342} As I went by the hygh way, With a stout frere I met, And a quarter-staffe in his hande, Lyghtely to me he lept, And styll he bade me stande ; There were strypes two or three, But I cannot tell who had the worse, But well I wote the horeson lept within me, And fro me he toke my purse. Is there any of my mery men all, That to that frere wyll go, And bryng him to me forth withall, Whether he wyll or no ? LYTELL JOHN. Yes, mayster, I make god avowe, To that frere wyll I go, And bring him to you, Whether he wyl or no. FRYER TUCKE. _Deus hic, deus hic_, god be here ! Is not this a holy worde for a frere ? God save all this company ! But am not I a jolly fryer ? For I can shote both farre and nere, And handle the sworde and bucklèr, And this quarter-staffe also. If I mete with a gentylman or yemàn, {343} I am not afrayde to loke hym upon, Nor boldly with him to carpe ; If he speake any wordes to me, He shall have strypes two or thre, That shal make his body smarte. But, maisters,[333] to shew you the matter, Wherefore and why I am come hither, In fayth I wyl not spare : I am come to seke a good yeman, In Bernisdale men sai is his habitacion, His name is Robyn Hode. And if that he be better man than I, His servaunt wyll I be, and serve him truely ; But if that I be better man than he, By my truth my knave shall he be, And leade these dogges all three. ROBYN HODE. Yelde the, fryer, in thy long cote. FRYER TUCKE. I beshrew thy hart, knave, thou hurtest my throt. ROBYN HODE.