William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Restoration Verse. 1910.
Robin Hood and Little JohnAnonymous
W
With a hey down, down, and down;
He happen’d to meet Little John,
A jolly brisk blade, right fit for the trade,
For he was a lusty young man.
And his stature was seven foot high;
Wherever he came, they quak’d at his name,
For soon he would make them to fly.
If you would but listen awhile;
For this very jest, amongst all the rest,
I think it may cause you to smile.
‘Pray tarry you here in this grove;
And see that you all observe well my call,
While thorough the forest I rove.
Therefore now abroad will I go;
Now should I be beat, and cannot retreat,
My horn I will presently blow.’
And bid them at present good-by:
Then, as near a brook his journey he took,
A stranger he chanced to espy.
And neither of them would give way;
Quoth bold Robin Hood, and sturdily stood,
‘I’ll shew you right Nottingham-play’.
A broad arrow with a goose-wing.
The stranger reply’d, ‘I’ll liquor thy hide.
If thou offerest to touch the string.’
For were I to bend but my bow,
I could send a dart, quite thro’ thy proud heart,
Before thou couldst strike me one blow.’
‘Well arm’d with a long bow you stand,
To shoot at my breast, while I, I protest,
Have nought but a staff in my hand.’
Wherefore my long bow I’ll lay by,
And now, for thy sake, a staff will I take,
The truth of thy manhood to try.’
And choose him a staff of ground oak;
Now this being done, away he did run
To the stranger, and merrily spoke:
Now here on the bridge we will play;
Whoever falls in, the other shall win,
The battle, and so we’ll away.’
‘I scorn in the least to give out;’
This said, they fell to’t without more dispute,
And their staffs they did flourish about.
So hard that it made his bones ring:
The stranger he said, ‘This must be repaid,
I’ll give you as good as you bring.
To die in your debt, friend, I scorn.’
Then to it each goes, and followed their blows,
As if they’d been threshing of corn.
Which caused the blood to appear;
Then Robin, enraged, more fiercely engaged,
And followed his blows more severe.
With a passionate fury and ire;
At every stroke, he made him to smoke,
As if he had been all on fire.
And gave him a damnable look,
And with it a blow, that laid him full low,
And tumbled him into the brook.
The stranger, in laughter, he cried;
Quoth bold Robin Hood, ‘Good faith, in the flood,
And floating along with the tide.
With thee I’ll no longer contend;
For needs must I say, thou has got the day,
Our battle shall be at an end.’
And pulled himself out by a thorn;
Which done, at the last, he blowed a loud blast
Straightway on his fine bugle-horn:
At which his stout bowmen appeared,
All clothed in green, most gay to be seen,
So up to their master they steered.
‘Good master you are wet to the skin.’
‘No matter,’ quoth he, ‘the lad which you see
In fighting, hath tumbled me in.’
So straight they were seizing him there.
To duck him likewise: but Robin Hood cries,
‘He is a stout fellow, forbear.
These bowmen upon me do wait;
There’s three score and nine; if thou wilt be mine,
Thou shalt have my livery straight.
Speak up, jolly blade, never fear:
I’ll teach you also the use of the bow,
To shoot at the fat fallow-deer.’
‘I’ll serve you with all my whole heart;
My name is John Little, a man of good mettle;
Ne’er doubt me, for I’ll play my part.’
‘And I will his godfather be:
Prepare then a feast, and none of the least,
For we will be merry,’ quoth he.
With humming strong liquor likewise;
They loved what was good; so, in the green wood,
This pretty sweet babe they baptize.
And, may be, an ell in the waist;
A pretty sweet lad; much feasting they had;
Bold Robin the christening graced,
And were of the Nottingham breed;
Brave Stutely comes then, with seven yeomen,
And did in this manner proceed:
‘Which name shall be changed anon:
The words we’ll transpose; so wherever he goes,
His name shall be called Little John.’
So soon as the office was o’er,
To feasting they went, with true merriment,
And tippled strong liquor gillore.
And clothed him from top to the toe
In garments of green, most gay to be seen,
And gave him a curious long bow.
And range in the greenwood with us;
Where we’ll not want gold nor silver, behold,
While bishops have ought in their purse.
Without e’er a foot of free land;
We feast on good cheer, with wine, ale, and beer,
And everything at our command.’
At length, when the sun waxed low,
Then all the whole train the grove did refrain,
And unto their caves they did go.
Although he was proper and tall,
Yet, nevertheless, the truth to express,
Still Little John they did him call.