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"Now nay, now nay," quoth Robin Hood, "That boon I'll not grant thee;

I never hurt woman in all my

life,

Nor men in woman's company.

"I never hurt fair maid in all my time,
Nor at mine end shall it be;

But give me my bent bow in my hand,
And a broad arrow I'll let flee,

And where this arrow is taken up,
There shall my grave digg'd be.

"Lay me a green sod under my head,
And another at my feet;

And lay my bent bow by my side,
Which was my music sweet;

And make my grave of gravel and green,
Which is most right and meet.

"Let me have length and breadth enough,
With a green sod under my head;
That they may say, when I am dead,
Here lies bold Robin Hood."

These words they readily granted him,
Which did bold Robin please:

And there they buried bold Robin Hood,
Within the fair Kirkleys.

THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT

THE Perse owt off Northombarlonde, and avowe to God mayd he

That he wold hunte in the mowntayns off Chyviat within days thre,

In the magger1 of doughte Dogles, and all that ever with him be.

1 spite.

The fattiste hartes in all Cheviat

he sayd he wold kyll, and cary them away:
"Be my feth," sayd the dougheti Doglas agayn,
"I wyll let that hontyng yf that I may."

Then the Persë owt off Banborowe cam,

with him a myghtee meany,3 3

With fifteen hondrith archares bold off blood and bone;

the wear chosen owt of shyars thre.

This begane on a Monday at morn,
in Cheviat the hillys so he;5

The chylde may rue that ys unborn,
it wos the more pitte.

The dryvars thorowe the woodes went,
for to reas the dear;
Bomen byckarte" uppone the bent'

with ther browd aros cleare.

Then the wylds thorowe the woodes went,
on every syde shear;9

Greahondes thorowe the grevis1o glent,11
for to kyll thear dear.

This begane in Chyviat the hyls abone,
yerly on a Monnyn-day;

Be that it drewe to the oware off none,
a hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay.

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He sayd, "It was the Duglas promys,
this day to met me hear;

But I wyste he wolde faylle, verament;"
a great oth the Persë swear.

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14 with.

At the laste a squyar off Northomberlonde
lokyde at his hand full ny;

He was war a the doughetie Doglas commynge,
with him a myghtte meany.

Both with spear, bylle, and brande,

yt was a myghtti sight to se;

Hardyar men, both off hart nor hande,

wear not in Cristiante.

The wear twenti hondrith spear-men good,
withoute any feale;

The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde,
yth14 bowndes of Tividale.

"Leave of the brytlyng of the dear," he sayd,

"and to your boys15 lock ye tayk good hede; For never sithe ye wear on your mothars borne had ye never so mickle nede."

The dougheti Dogglas on a stede,
he rode alle his men beforne;
His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;16
a boldar barne was never born.

"Tell me whos men ye ar," he says,

"or whos men that ye be:

Who gave youe leave to hunte in this Chyviat chays,

in the spyt of myn and of me."

The first mane that ever him an answear mayd,

yt was the good lord Persë:

"We wyll not tell the whoys men we ar," he says,

"nor whos men that we be;

But we wyll hounte hear in this chays,
in the spyt of thyne and of the.

"The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat,

we have kyld, and cast to carry them away. "Be my troth," sayd the doughete Dogglas agayn, "therfor the ton17 of us shall de this day."

15 bows.

16 glowing coal.

17 one.

Then sayd the doughte Doglas unto the lord Perse:

"To kyll alle these giltles men, alas, it wear great pittie!

"But, Persë, thowe art a lord of lande,

I am a yerle callyd within my contre; Let all our men uppone a parti stande, and do the battell off the and of me."

"Nowe Cristes cors on his crowne," sayd the lord Persë,

"who-so-ever ther-to says nay;

Be my troth, doughtte Doglas," he says, "thow shalt never se that day,

"Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France,
nor for no man of a woman born,
But, and fortune be my chance,

I dar met him on18 man for on."

Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde,
Richard Wytharyngton was his nam:

"It shall never be told in Sothe-Ynglonde," he says, "to Kyng Herry the Fourth for sham.

"I wat youe byn great lordes twaw,

I

am a poor squyar of lande:

I wylle never se my captayne fyght on a fylde,
and stande my selffe and loocke on,

But whylle I may my weppone welde,
I wylle not fayle both hart and hande."

That day, that day, that dredfull day! the first fit here I fynde;

And youe wyll here any mor a the hountyng a the Chyviat,

yet ys ther mor behynde.

18 one.

The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent,
ther hartes wer good yenoughe;

The first off arros that the shote off,

seven skore spear-men the sloughe.19

Yet byddys the yerle Doglas uppon the bent,

a captayne good yenoughe,

And that was sene verament,

for he wrought hom both woo and wouche.20

The Dogglas partyd his ost in thre,
lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde;
With suar21 spears off myghtte tre,
the cum in on every syde:

Thrughe our Yngglyshe archery
gave many a wounde fulle wyde;
Many a doughete the garde22 to dy,
which ganyde them no pryde.

The Ynglyshe men let ther boys be,
and pulde owt brandes that wer brighte;
It was a hevy syght to se

bryght swordes on basnites lyght.

Thorowe ryche male and myneyeple,23
many sterne the strocke done streght;
Many a freyke24 that was fulle fre,
ther undar foot dyd lyght.

At last the Duglas and the Persë met,
lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne;
The swapte togethar tylle the both swat,
with swordes that wear of fyn myllan.

Thes worthe freckys for to fyght,

ther-to the wear fulle fayne,

Tylle the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente

as ever dyd heal or rayn.

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