Since graves may not their dead containe, Nor in their peacefull sleepes remaine, But triumphes and great showes must use them, And we unable to refuse them; It joyes me that earle Robert Hood, Fetcht from the forrest of merrie Shirwood, With these my yeomen tight and tall, Brave huntsmen and good archers all, Must in this joviall day partake, Prepared for your honour’s sake. No sooner was i raysde from rest, And of my former state possest As while i liv’d, but being alone, And of my yeomen seeing not one, I with my bugle gave a call, Made all the woods to ring withall. Immediately came little John, And Scathlock followed him anon, With Much the honest miller’s sonne; And ere ought else could be done, The frollicke frier came tripping in, His heart upon a merrie pinne. Master (quoth he) in yonder brake, A deere is hid for Marian’s sake, Bid Scathlock, John, or honest Brand, That hath the happy hitting hand, Shoote right and have him: and see, my lord, The deed performed with the word. For Robin and his bow-men bold, Religiously did ever holde, Not emptie-handed to be seene, Were’t but at feasting on a greene; {lxviii} Much more then, when so high a day Calls our attendance: all we may Is all too little, tis your grace To winke at weakenesse in this case: So, fearing to be over-long, End all with our old hunting song. * * * * * The song of Robin Hood and his huntes-men. Now wend we together, my merry men all, Unto the forrest side a; And there to strike a buck or a doae, Let our cunning all be tried a. Then goe we merrily, merrily on, To the green-wood to take up our stand [a], Where we will lye in waite for our game, With our best bowes all in our hand [a]. What life is there like to bold Robin Hood? It is so pleasant a thing a: In merry Shirwood he spends his dayes, As pleasantly as a king a. No man may compare with bold Robin Hood, With Robin Hood, Scathlocke and John [a]: Their like was never, nor never will be, If in case that they were gone [a]. They will not away from merry Shirwood, In any place else to dwell [a]: For there is neither city nor towne, That likes them half so well [a]. Our lives are wholly given to hunt, And haunt the merry greene-wood [a]; Where our best service is daily spent, For our master Robin Hood [a].” 6. “Robin Hood and his pastoral May games.” 1624. 7. “Robin Hood and his crew of soldiers.” 1627.