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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. — 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.

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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.

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

“That Harold, being Goodwin’s sonne of Kent,[47]
  Hunted for pleasure once within this wood,
  And singled out a faire and stately stagge,
  Which, foote to foote, the king in running caught;
  And sure this was the stagge.

  _King._ It was no doubt.

  _Chester._ But some, my lord, affirme,
 That Julius Cæsar, many years before,
 Tooke such a stagge, and such a poesie writ.”[48] {lxii}

Upon which his majesty very sagaciously remarks,

 “It should not be in Julius Cæsar’s time:
  There was no English used in this land
  Untill the Saxons came, and this is writ
  In Saxon characters.”

The next quotation may be of service to Dr. Percy, who {lxiii}
has been pleased to question our hero’s nobility, because “the
most ancient poems make no mention of this earldom,” and the old
legend expressly asserts him “to have been a yeoman.” It is very
true; and we shall here not only find his title established, but
also discover the secret of his not being usually distinguished or
designed by it.

 “_Enter Roben Hoode._

 _King._ How now, earle Robert!

 _Fri._ A forfet, a forfet, my liege lord,
 My master’s lawes are on record,
 The court-roll here your grace may see.

 _King._ I pray thee, frier, read them mee.

 _Fri._ One shall suffice, and this is hee.
 No man that commeth in this wod,
 To feast or dwell with Robin Hood,
 Shall call him earle, lord, knight, or squire,
 He no such titles doth desire,
 But Robin Hood, plain Robin Hoode,
 That honest yoeman, stout and good,
 On paine of forfetting a marke,
 That must be paid to mee his clarke.
 My liege, my liege, this lawe you broke,
 Almost in the last word you spoke;
 That crime may not acquitted bee,
 Till Frier Tuck receive his fee.”

Now, the reason that “the most ancient poems make no mention
of this earldom,” and the old legend expressly asserts him “to
have been a yeoman,” appears, plainly enough, to be, that as,
pursuant to his own injunction, he was never called, either by his
followers, or in the vicinity, by any other name than Robin Hood,
so particularly the minstrels, who were always, no doubt, welcome
to Sherwood,[49] {lxiv} and liberally entertained by him and his
yeomanry, would take special care never to offend against the above
law: which puts an end to the dispute.—Q. E. D.

Our hero is, at length, poisoned by a drink which Doncaster and the
prior, his uncle, had prepared for him to give to the king. His
departing scene and last dying speech are beautiful and pathetic.

 “_Rob._ Inough, inough, Fitzwater, take your child.
 My dying frost, which no sunnes heat can thawe,
 Closes the powers of all my outward parts;
 My freezing blood runnes back into my heart,
 Where it assists death, which it would resist:
 Only my love a little hinders death,
 For he beholds her eyes, and cannot smite.

        *       *       *       *       *

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.

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