XII ‘Ho[651] shal yeve the ferste schote?’ Seyde Gandeleyn. ‘And I shul yeve[652] the on be-forn,’ Seyde Wrennok ageyn. XIII Wrennok schette a ful good schote, And he schet not to hye; Throw the sanchothis[653] of his bryk[654]; It towcyhd neyther thye. XIV ‘Now hast thu yovyn me on[655] be-forn,’ Al thus to Wrennok seyde he, ‘And throw the myyt of our lady A bettere I shal yeve the.’ XV Gandeleyn bent his goode bowe, And set ther-in a flo; He schet throw his grene certyl[656], His herte he clef on too. XVI ‘Now shall thu never yelpe[657], Wrennok, At ale ne at wyn, That thu hast slawe goode Robyn, And his knave Gandeleyn. XVII ‘Now shalt thu never yelpe, Wrennok, At wyn ne at ale, That thu hast slawe goode Robyn, And Gandeleyn his knave.’ _Robyn lyth in grene wode bowndyn._ FOOTNOTES: [636] carpyng = talking, tale. [637] hende = gracious, courteous. [638] He = they. [639] ageyn evyn = towards evening. [640] He comyn ayon = came over against them, in their path. [641] on = one. [642] flo = arrow. [643] a to = in two. [644] i-flawe = flayed. [645] schrewde = sharp. [646] He clepyn = whom they call. [647] Trusyd = trussed, bound up. [648] thrumme = end of a warp. [649] gyst = gettest. [650] Mysaunter = misadventure. [651] Ho = who. [652] yeve = give. [653] sanchothis = fork. [654] bryk = breeches. [655] yovyn me on = given me one. [656] certyl = kirtle. [657] yelpe = brag. _113. The Birth of Robin Hood_ I O Willie’s large o’ limb and lith[658], And come o’ high degree, And he is gane to Earl Richard, To serve for meat and fee. II Earl Richard had but ae daughter, Fair as a lily-flower, And they made up their love-contract Like proper paramour. III It fell upon a simmer’s nicht, Whan the leaves were fair and green, That Willie met his gay ladie Intil the wood alane. IV ‘O narrow is my gown, Willie, That wont to be sae wide; And gane is a’ my fair colour, That wont to be my pride. V ‘But gin my father should get word What’s past between us twa, Before that he should eat or drink, He’d hang you o’er that wa’. VI ‘But ye’ll come to my bower, Willie, Just as the sun gaes down, And kep[659] me in your arms twa, And latna me fa’ down.’ VII O whan the sun was now gane down, He’s doen him till her bower, And there, by the lee licht o’ the moon, Her window she lookit o’er. VIII Intill a robe o’ red scarlèt She lap, fearless o’ harm; And Willie was large o’ lith and limb, And keppit her in his arm. IX And they’ve gane to the gude green-wood, And, ere the night was deen, She’s born to him a bonny young son, Amang the leaves sae green. X