Now the knight has said goodby

And gone along his way.

Robin Hood and his merry men

Lived there many a day.

 

Now listen up everybody,

And pay attention to what I say —

How the proud sheriff of Nottingham

Called for a day of play.

 

That all the best archers of the north

Should come on a certain day,

And he that shoots the best

Shall bear the prize away.

 

He that shoots the best,

The furthest and the truest,

At a pair of good targets

Under the greenwood forest,

 

A right good arrow he shall have,

The shaft of white silver,

The head and feathers of rich red gold,

In England there is none finer.

 

Then good Robin heard about this

Under his greenwood tree.

“Get ye ready, my strong young men,

That shooting I will see.

 

“Come on, my merry young men.

You shall all go, too.

And I will test the sheriff’s faith

And see if he is true.”

 

When they had their bows strung

And their arrows feathered free,

Seven score of strong young men

Stood by Robin’s knee.

                                               

When they came to Nottingham

The targets were good and long.

Many a bold archer was there

Whose bow was good and strong.

 

“Six of you shoot with me,

The others keep us covered,

And stand with good bows strung

In case we are discovered.”

 

The fourth outlaw bent his bow,

And that was Robin Hood.

And the proud sheriff saw it all

As by the mark he stood.

 

Three times Robin shot a bout,

And each time he slit the wand.

And so did good Gilbert

With the white hand.

 

Little John and good Scarlett

Were archers of the best.

Little Much and good Reynold

Were better than the rest.

           

When they had shot about,

These archers fair and good,

Every time the best one,

Indeed, was Robin Hood.

 

He was given the good arrow

For the worthiest was he.

He took the gift so courteously,

He would go to the greenwood tree.

 

They cried out on Robin Hood

And great horns began to blow.

“Woe to you, Treason,” said Robin.

“Full evil are you to know.

 

“And woe to you, you proud sheriff,

Thus to have your jest.

You promised me differently

Back in the wild forest.

 

“But if I had you in the greenwood

Under my greenwood tree,

You would leave me a better pledge

Than your true loyalty.”

 

Full many a bow there was bent

And arrows they let glide.

Many a jacket there was rent

And hurt many a side.

 

The outlaws’ shot was so strong

No man could drive them off.

And the proud sheriff’s men,

They fled away like chaff.

           

If Robin had known about this ambush,

In the greenwood he would be.

Many an arrow there was shot

Among that company.

 

Little John was hurt full sore

With an arrow through his knee.

That he could neither walk nor ride

Was a great pity to see.

 

“Master,” then said Little John,

“If you ever loved me,

And for that same Lord’s sake

That died upon a tree,

 

“And for all the good service

I gave you everyday,

Don’t let the proud sheriff

Find me alive this way.

 

“But take out your bright sword

And cut off my head

And give me wounds deep and wide

And leave me here dead.”

 

“I don’t want that,” said Robin,

“John, to have you slain,

Not for all the gold in merry England,

Though here in a pile it lay.”

 

“God forbid,” said little Much,

“That died on a tree,

That you, Little John,

Should part our company.”

           

He took him up on his back

And carried him over a mile.

Many a time he laid him down

And shot a little while.

 

Then there was a fair castle

A little ways in the woods,

Double-ditched all about

And walled strong and good.

 

And there lived that gentle knight,

Sir Richard at the Lea,

That Robin had lent his goods

Under the greenwood tree.

 

He took good Robin in

And all his company.

“Welcome, Robin Hood.

You’re welcome here to me.

 

“And I want to thank you for your comfort

And for your courtesy

And for your great kindness

Under the greenwood tree.

 

“I love no man in all the world

So much as I do thee.

For all the proud sheriff of Nottingham,

Right here you shall be.

 

“Shut the gates and draw the bridge

And let no man come in.

And arm ye well and make ye ready

And to the walls ye win.

           

“For one thing, Robin, I promised you,

I swear by Saint Quentin.

For forty days you’ll stay with me,

Eating and drinking.”

 

Boards were laid and cloths were spread,

As quick as they could do it.

Robin Hood and his merry men

Have all fallen to it.

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