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Robin Hood: A collection of all the ancient poems, songs, and ballads, now extant, relative to that celebrated English outlaw. To which are prefixed historical anecdotes of his life.

General

Robin Hood: A collection of all the ancient poems, songs, and ballads, now extant, relative to that celebrated English outlaw. To which are prefixed historical anecdotes of his life.

Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Outlaws -- Poetry; Robin Hood (Legendary character) -- Poetry; Songs, English -- England -- Texts

Here is a huckle duckle, an inch above the buckle ; {348}
 She is a trul of trust,[338] to serve a frier at his lust,
 A prycker, a pauncer, a terer of shetes,[339]
 A wagger of buttockes[340] when other men slepes.
 Go home, ye knaves, and lay crabbes in the fyre,
 For my lady and I wil daunce in the myre, for veri pure joye.

ROBYN HODE.

 Lysten to [me], my mery men all,
 And harke what I shall say ;
 Of an adventure I shall you tell,
 That befell this other daye.
 With a proude potter I met,
 And a rose garlande on his head,[341] {349}

 The floures of it shone marvaylous freshe ;
 This seven yere and more he hath used this waye,
 Yet was he never so curteyse a potter,
 As one peny passage to paye.
 Is there any of my mery men all
 That dare be so bolde
 To make the potter paie passage,
 Either silver or golde ?

LYTELL JOHN.

 Not I, master, for twenty pound redy tolde,
 For there is not among us al one
 That dare medle with that potter man for man.
 I felt his handles not long agone,
 But I had lever have ben here by the,
 Therefore I knowe what he is.
 Mete him when ye wil, or mete him whan ye shal,
 He is as propre a man as ever you medle withal. {350}

ROBYN HODE.

 I will lai with the, Litel John, twenti pound so read,
 If I wyth that potter mete,
 I wil make him pay passage, maugre his head.

LYTELL JOHN.

 I consente therto, so eate I bread,
 If he pay passage maugre his head,
 Twenti pound shall ye have of me for your mede.

THE POTTERS BOYE JACKE.

 Out alas, that ever I sawe this daye !
 For I am clene out of my waye
 From Notyngham towne ;
 If I hye me not the faster,
 Or I come there the market[342] wel be done.

ROBYN HODE.

 Let me se, are thy[343] pottes hole and sounde ?

JACKE.

 Yea, meister, but they will not breake the ground.

ROBYN HODE.

 I wil them breke, for the cuckold thi maisters sake ;
 And if they will not breake the grounde,
 Thou shalt have thre pence for a pound.[344] {351}

JACKE.

 Out alas ! what have ye done ?
 If my maister come, he will breke your crown.

THE POTTER.

 Why, thou horeson, art thou here yet ?
 Thou shouldest have bene at markèt.

JACKE.

 I met with Robin Hode, a good yemàn,
 He hath broken my pottes,
 And called you kuckolde by your name.

THE POTTER.

 Thou mayst be a gentylman, so god me save,
 But thou semest a noughty knave.
 Thou callest me cuckolde by my name,
 And I swere by god and saynt John
 Wyfe had I never none.
 This cannot I denye,
 But if thou be a good felowe,
 I wil sel mi horse, mi harneis, pottes and paniers to,
 Thou shalt have the one halfe and I will have the other ;
 If thou be not so content,
 Thou shalt have stripes if thou were my brother.

ROBYN HODE.

 Harke, potter, what I shall say :
 This seven yere and more thou hast used this way, {352}
 Yet were thou never so curteous to me,
 As one penny passage to paye.

THE POTTER.

 Why should I paye passage to thee ?

ROBYN HODE.

 For I am Robyn Hode, chiefe governoure
 Under the grene woode tree.

THE POTTER.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

General

Robin Hood: A collection of all the ancient poems, songs, and ballads, now extant, relative to that celebrated English outlaw. To which are prefixed historical anecdotes of his life.

Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Outlaws -- Poetry; Robin Hood (Legendary character) -- Poetry; Songs, English -- England -- Texts

Here is a huckle duckle, an inch above the buckle ; {348}
 She is a trul of trust,[338] to serve a frier at his lust,
 A prycker, a pauncer, a terer of shetes,[339]
 A wagger of buttockes[340] when other men slepes.
 Go home, ye knaves, and lay crabbes in the fyre,
 For my lady and I wil daunce in the myre, for veri pure joye.

ROBYN HODE.

 Lysten to [me], my mery men all,
 And harke what I shall say ;
 Of an adventure I shall you tell,
 That befell this other daye.
 With a proude potter I met,
 And a rose garlande on his head,[341] {349}

 The floures of it shone marvaylous freshe ;
 This seven yere and more he hath used this waye,
 Yet was he never so curteyse a potter,
 As one peny passage to paye.
 Is there any of my mery men all
 That dare be so bolde
 To make the potter paie passage,
 Either silver or golde ?

LYTELL JOHN.

 Not I, master, for twenty pound redy tolde,
 For there is not among us al one
 That dare medle with that potter man for man.
 I felt his handles not long agone,
 But I had lever have ben here by the,
 Therefore I knowe what he is.
 Mete him when ye wil, or mete him whan ye shal,
 He is as propre a man as ever you medle withal. {350}

ROBYN HODE.

 I will lai with the, Litel John, twenti pound so read,
 If I wyth that potter mete,
 I wil make him pay passage, maugre his head.

LYTELL JOHN.

 I consente therto, so eate I bread,
 If he pay passage maugre his head,
 Twenti pound shall ye have of me for your mede.

THE POTTERS BOYE JACKE.

 Out alas, that ever I sawe this daye !
 For I am clene out of my waye
 From Notyngham towne ;
 If I hye me not the faster,
 Or I come there the market[342] wel be done.

ROBYN HODE.

 Let me se, are thy[343] pottes hole and sounde ?

JACKE.

 Yea, meister, but they will not breake the ground.

ROBYN HODE.

 I wil them breke, for the cuckold thi maisters sake ;
 And if they will not breake the grounde,
 Thou shalt have thre pence for a pound.[344] {351}

JACKE.

 Out alas ! what have ye done ?
 If my maister come, he will breke your crown.

THE POTTER.

 Why, thou horeson, art thou here yet ?
 Thou shouldest have bene at markèt.

JACKE.

 I met with Robin Hode, a good yemàn,
 He hath broken my pottes,
 And called you kuckolde by your name.

THE POTTER.

 Thou mayst be a gentylman, so god me save,
 But thou semest a noughty knave.
 Thou callest me cuckolde by my name,
 And I swere by god and saynt John
 Wyfe had I never none.
 This cannot I denye,
 But if thou be a good felowe,
 I wil sel mi horse, mi harneis, pottes and paniers to,
 Thou shalt have the one halfe and I will have the other ;
 If thou be not so content,
 Thou shalt have stripes if thou were my brother.

ROBYN HODE.

 Harke, potter, what I shall say :
 This seven yere and more thou hast used this way, {352}
 Yet were thou never so curteous to me,
 As one penny passage to paye.

THE POTTER.

 Why should I paye passage to thee ?

ROBYN HODE.

 For I am Robyn Hode, chiefe governoure
 Under the grene woode tree.

THE POTTER.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Robin Hood: A collection of all the ancient poems, songs, and ballads, now extant, relative to that celebrated English outlaw. To which are prefixed historical anecdotes of his life.

Robin Hood: A collection of all the ancient poems, songs, and ballads, now extant, relative to that celebrated English outlaw. To which are prefixed historical anecdotes of his life.

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