[923] banis = bane, destruction. [924] craftily = skilfully. [925] springe = trap. _116. Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne_ I When shaws[926] beene sheene[927], and shradds[928] full fayre, And leves both large and longe, Itt is merrye walking in the fayre forrèst To heare the small birds’ songe. II The woodweele[929] sang, and wold not cease, [Sitting upon the spraye, Soe lowde, he wakened Robin Hood, In the grenewood where he lay. III ‘Now by my faye,’ sayd jollye Robìn, ‘A sweaven[930] I had this night; I dreamt me of two wight[931] yemen, That fast with me can fight.] IV ‘Methought they did mee beate and binde, And tooke my bow mee fro; If I be Robin alive in this lande, I’ll be wroken[932] on them towe.’ V ‘Sweavens are swift, Master,’ quoth John, ‘As the wind that blowes ore a hill; For if itt be never so loude this night, To-morrow itt may be still.’ VI ‘Buske[933] yee, bowne[934] yee, my merry men all, And John shall goe with mee, For I’le goe seeke yond wight yemen, In grenewood where they bee.’ VII They cast on them their gownes of grene, [And tooke theyr bowes each one; And all away to the grene forrèst] A shooting forth are gone; VIII Until they came to the merry grenewood, Where they had gladdest bee, There were they ware of a wight yemàn, His body lean’d to a tree. IX A sword and a dagger he wore by his side, Of manye a man the bane; And he was clad in his capull-hyde[935] Topp and tayll and mayne. X ‘Stand you still, Master,’ quoth Little John, ‘Under this trusty tree, And I will go to yond wight yeoman To know his meaning trulye.’ XI ‘A! John, by me thou settest noe store, And that’s a farley[936] finde. How offt send I my men beffore, And tarry my selfe behinde? XII ‘It is noe cunning a knave to ken, An a man but heare him speake; An itt were not for bursting of my bowe, John, I wold thy head breake.’ XIII As often wordes they breeden bale, So they parted Robin and John: And John is gone to Barnèsdale; The gates[937] he knoweth eche one. XIV But when he came to Barnèsdale, Great heavinesse there hee hadd, For he found two of his owne fellòwes Were slaine both in a slade[938]. XV And Scarlette à-foote he flyinge was Fast over stocke and stone, For the Sheriffe with seven score men Fast after him is gone. XVI ‘Yet one shoote I’le shoote,’ quoth Little John, ‘With Christ his might and mayne; I’le make yond fellow that flyes soe fast, To stopp he shall be fayne.’ XVII