"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, But give me my bent bow in my hand, And where this arrow is taken up, "Lay me a green sod under my head, And lay my bent bow by my side, And make my grave of gravel and green, "Let me have length and breadth enough, These words they readily granted him, And there they buried bold Robin Hood, 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: 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, The chylde may rue that ys unborn, The dryvars thorowe the woodes went, with ther browd aros cleare. Then the wylds thorowe the woodes went, Greahondes thorowe the grevis1o glent,11 This begane in Chyviat the hyls abone, Be that it drewe to the oware off none, He sayd, "It was the Duglas promys, But I wyste he wolde faylle, verament;" 14 with. At the laste a squyar off Northomberlonde He was war a the doughetie Doglas commynge, 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, The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde, "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, "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, "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, I dar met him on18 man for on." Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde, "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, But whylle I may my weppone welde, 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, 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, Thrughe our Yngglyshe archery The Ynglyshe men let ther boys be, bryght swordes on basnites lyght. Thorowe ryche male and myneyeple,23 At last the Duglas and the Persë met, 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. |