‘Have at the prykë!’ ‘And Y cleuë the stykë.’ ‘Late vs castë the stone.’ ‘I grauntë well, be Seynt John.’ ‘Late vs castë the exaltre.’ ‘Have a foote be-forë the! Syr knyght, ye haue a falle.’ ‘And I the, Robyn, qwytë shall.’ ‘Owte on the! I blowë myn horne.’ ‘Hit warë better be vnborne.’ ‘Lat vs fyght at ottrauncë.’ ‘He that fleth, God gyfe hym myschauncë! Now I hauë the maystry herë, Off I smytë this sory swyrë. This knyghtys clothis wolle I werë, And in my hode his hede woll berë. Welle mete, felowë myn: What herst þ_o_u of gode Robyn?’ ‘Robyn Hode and his menye W_i_t_h_ the sheryff takyn be.’ ‘Sette on footë w_i_t_h_ gode wyll, And the sheryffë wull we kyll.’ ‘Beholde wele Ffrere Tukë, Howe he dothe his bowë plukë. Ȝeld yow, syrs, to the sheryff[ë], Or elles shall yo_u_r bowës clyffë.’ ‘Nowe we be bownden alle in samë; Frere [T]uke, þis is no gamë.’ ‘Co[m]e þ_o_u forth, þ_o_u fals outlawë: Þ_o_u shall b[e] hangyde and ydrawë.’ ‘Now, allas! what shall we doo! We [m]ostë to the prysone goo.’ ‘Opy[n] the yatis faste anon, An[d] [d]oo theis thevys ynnë gon.’[83] Ritson pointed out that Guy of Gisborne is named with “other worthies, it is conjectured of a similar stamp,” in a satirical piece of William Dunbar, ‘Of Sir Thomas Norray.’ Was never vyld Robeine wnder bewch, Nor ȝet Roger of Clekkinsklewch, So bauld a bairne as he; Gy of Gysburne, na Allan Bell, Nor Simones sonnes of Quhynfell, At schot war nevir so slie.[84] Ed. John Small, Part II, p. 193. Gisburne is in the West Riding of Yorkshire, on the borders of Lancashire, seven miles from Clitheroe. He that had neither beene a kithe nor kin Might haue seene a full fayre sight, 36^{1,2}, anticipates Byron:— By heaven, it is a splendid sight to see, For one who hath no friend, no brother, there. Childe Harold, I, 40^{1,2}. Translated, after Percy’s Reliques, by Bodmer, II, 128; La Motte Fouqué, in Büsching’s Erzählungen, p. 241; Doenniges, p. 174; Anastasius Grün, p. 103; Cesare Cantù, Documenti, etc., p. 799 (the first thirty-seven stanzas). 1 When shawes beene sheene, and shradds full fayre, And leeues both large and longe, Itt is merrry, walking in the fayre fforrest, To heare the small birds songe.