Robin Hood tooke his mantle from his back,

It was of the Lincolne greene,

And sent it by this lovely page,

For a present unto the queene.

In summer time, when leaves grow green,

It was a seemly sight to see,

How Robin Hood himselfe had drest,

And all his yeomandry.

He clothed his men in Lincolne green,
And himselfe in scarlet red;

Blacke hats, white feathers, all alike,
Now bold Robin Hood is rid.

And when he came at Londons court,

Hee fell downe on his knee.

"Thou art welcome, Locksly," said the queen,
"And all thy good yeomandree."

The king is into Finsbury field,*

Marching in battle ray,

And after follows bold Robin Hood,

And all his yeomen gay.

"Come hither, Tepus," said the king,
"Bow-bearer after me;

Come measure me out with this line,
How long our mark must be.

"What is the wager?" said the queene,
"That must I now know here:"
"Three hundred tun of Rhenish wine,
Three hundred tun of beere ;

"Three hundred of the fattest harts

That run on Dallom lee;

That's a princely wager," said the king,

"That needs must I tell thee."

*Now Finsbury Square, &c. in London, famous in old times for its archery ground.

With that bespake one Clifton then,

Full quickly and full soone;

"Measure no markes for us, most soveraigne liege,

Wee'l shoot at sun and moone."

"Ful fifteene score your marke shall be,

Ful fifteene score shall stand;" "I'll lay my bow," said Clifton then, "I'll cleave the willow wand."

With that the kings archers led about,
While it was three and none;
With that the ladies began to shout,
"Madam, your game is gone."

"A boone, a boone," queen Katherine cries,
"I crave it on my bare knee;

Is there any knight of your privy counsèl
Of queen Katherines part will be?

"Come hither to mee, sir Richard Lee,
Thou art a knight full good;

For I do knowe by thy pedigree
Thou sprung'st from Gowers blood.

"Come hither to me, thou bishop of Herefordshire,"

For a noble priest was hee;

"By my silver miter," said the Bishop then,

"Ile not bet one peny."

"The king hath archers of his own,

Full ready and full light,

And these be strangers every one,

No man knowes what they hight."

"What wilt thou bet," said Robin Hood,
"Thou seest our game the worst ?"
"By my silver miter," then said the bishop,
"All the money within my purse."

"What is in thy purse?" said Robin Hood,

"Throw it downe on the ground." "Fiftren score nobles," said the bishop; "It's neere an hundred pound."

Robin Hood took his bagge from his side, And threw it downe on the greene; William Scadlocke then went smiling away, "I know who this money must win."

With that the kings archers led about,
While it was three and three ;
With that the ladies gave a shout,
"Woodcock, beware thy knee!"

"It is three and three, now," said the king, "The next three pays for all :”

Robin Hood went and whisper'd the queen, "The kings part shall be but small."

Robin Hood hee led about,

Hee shot it under hand;

And Clifton, with a bearing arrow,
Hee clave the willow wand.

And little Midge, the millers son,
He shot not much the worse;
He shot within a finger of the prick:
"Now, bishop, beware thy purse!"

"A boone, a boone," queen Katherine cries, "I crave it on my bare knee,

That you will angry be with none
That are of my partie."

"They shall have forty daies to come,

And forty daies to goe,

And three times forty to sport and play;

Then welcome friend or foe."

"Thou art welcome, Robin Hood," said the queene,

"And so is Little John,

And so is Midge, the millers son;

Thrice welcome every one."

"Is this Robin Hood?" now said the king;

"For it was told to me

That he was slain in the palace gates,

So far in the north country."

"Is this Robin Hood!" quoth the bishop then,

"As I see well to be:

Had I knowne it had been that bold outlaw,

I would not have bet one peny.

"Hee tooke me late one Saturday at night,
And bound mee fast to a tree,

And made mee sing a masse, God wot,
To him and his yeomandree."

"What an if I did?" saies Robin Hood,
"Of that masse I was faine;
"For recompence of that," he saies,
"Here's halfe thy gold againe."

"Now nay, now nay," saies Little John,

66

Master, that shall not be;

We must give gifts to the kings officèrs;

That gold will serve thee and mee."